Hm. It appears I was mistaken in my Party Palace post — les flics did nab the young man in question (he was hiding in the attic, says the legitimate tenant of the actual house on the property). Now, instead of squatting in a refurbished garage with a motley collection of drug-addled evildoers he is enjoying three hots and a cot at taxpayer expense.

His mother, who owns the property, is in no hurry to get Sonny sprung, which suits the neighborhood just fine. Two of his pals who remained at large popped round twice on Tuesday, looking for Christ knows what (perhaps a mislaid debit card that’s now in Mom’s hands). I have photos of both and a license-plate number, and so do the cops.

Meanwhile, today we have enjoyed our first scumbag-free day in many a moon. I should have a case of beer delivered to the squadroom.