‘Utter rubbish, my love? Aren’t you forgetting something? Only a week ago you ran out of the house after thinking you saw someone upstairs – smoking a cigar!’ He looked at Jason and Emily. ‘She was out in the cold, freezing.’

‘I don’t want to talk about it,’ Claudette said. ‘Let’s talk about something more cheerful. What are you both doing on New Year’s Eve? Perhaps we could celebrate together?’

Jason shot a warning glance at Emily. ‘I’m afraid we are already committed.’

‘My love, I don’t think we should ignore the issue of something strange going on,’ Maurice said. He looked, quizzically, at Jason, then Emily.

‘The only thing I’ve noticed is some people, from time to time, in the house next door to you. Number thirty-four,’ Jason replied.

‘Oh, we’ve seen them too,’ Claudette said. ‘The sister and brother-in-law of the couple who were so tragically killed. Maurice and I have chatted with them, such a lovely family. They’re executors of the estate, sorting everything out.’

‘Ah, right,’ Jason said, feeling mightily relieved. ‘I’m afraid I’ve not seen Mr Cigar Man close up.’

‘Of course you haven’t.’ She turned and glared at her husband. ‘I’m afraid, my love, your little lie’s been caught out.’

‘He’s there every evening,’ her husband said, defensively.

‘Of course he is. How convenient, he’s there just so you can smoke your cigarette, and don’t tell me you don’t have any; I’ve checked your coat pocket every day, and every day there is one cigarette less in the packet.’

She turned, sweetly, to the Daneses. ‘Oh dear, your glasses look almost empty. Some more bubbles?’

Jason looked down and saw, to his surprise, that both his and Emily’s glasses were drained. Emily was still staring, distracted, at something on the far side of the room. Before they had a chance to refuse, they were topped up to the brim, and Claudette bustled out of the room to fetch another bottle.

‘He is there,’ Maurice said. ‘Every time I go out, I see him across the road, standing beneath a street light. But when I try to chat to him, he buggers off. Are you sure you haven’t seen him?’

Jason shook his head.

‘Claudette is convinced I’m making him up, but I’m not.’ He shrugged. ‘Damned queer fellow, that’s all I can say. Downright rude; I instantly thought he must be from one of those affordable houses somewhere else on the estate, but of course they haven’t been built yet.’

Jason raised his glass, awkwardly. ‘Well, cheers, Happy Christmas!’

‘Happy Christmas to our famous neighbours!’ Claudette said, coming back in with a freshly opened bottle. ‘I think we’re going to be really good friends. Maurice and I were only just saying how lucky we are to have such wonderful neighbours.’

‘I’ll drink to that,’ Jason said, politely, raising his glass, and realizing it was empty. As was Emily’s.

Once again, they were topped up.

Emily pointed across the room. ‘Such a lovely piece, that!’