In the days following the extraordinary confession of a life-long paedophile, I was repeatedly asked why Jim McCafferty chose me to confess to.
The answer is simple: It was time.
This monster had spent more than 50 years abusing boys and young men, forcing them to weigh up the choice between his brutal attention and the risk of losing their dream of a career in football.
Read more: Pervert ex-Celtic FC youth coach has died in jail after six years behind bars
Many managed to stay out of his way, others were not so fortunate and today some of those young men are dead too.
McCafferty’s was an extraordinary interview.
Across two meetings lasting more than four hours, he chose to underplay the seriousness of his crimes. He repeatedly described touching, fondling and other unconscionable physical abuse of his victims, and the mental torture it triggered, as “a bit of hilarity”.
Jim McCafferty met me at the lift of his South Belfast apartment building on December 6, 2016, and walked me slowly into his neat little home.
I was there with the hope of hearing a confession from him, a confession of child sex abuse.
It didn’t seem likely from the outset.
Who would admit something so vile to a complete stranger on their doorstep?
But McCafferty, fat, frail and barely able to walk, invited me inside and politely invited me to sit down.
As I scanned the flat, I spotted a neat pile of Daily Record newspapers beside McCafferty’s armchair. They were well worn, their pages turned and returned as he had read the paper - from front to back, not back to front like most sports fanatics read their papers.
What had he been looking for?
In that moment I was hit by a sense that McCafferty would confess to me, I felt in my heart he was guilty as sin and his obsessive searches through the news pages of his local paper had been for mentions of himself, clues of another knock on the door, a precursor to his inevitable time in jail.
He had already faced three police investigations, several probes by media outlets but had managed to squirm out of each one.
In the end his confessor was me, a stranger in Belfast. It was finally over. With the evidence he offered, he knew he would spend the rest of his life in jail, having enjoyed the luxury of warmth, food, shelter and medical care all at the taxpayers expense.
I had approached McCafferty that evening and explained I wanted to discuss safe-guarding issues in youth football.
He appeared to listen intently, head almost bowed, staring at a batch of Christmas cards he had intended to post the next day. Alongside them was a stack of red £50 notes to accompany his messages of seasonal cheer.
But McCafferty’s plan to make his way to the post office was interrupted by his confession to child sex abuse.
The former Celtic youth coach and kitman took less than one hour to explain perverted activities he had participated in, claiming they were merely a matter of “a bit of hilarity”, fun of their day, no harm done.
But he later said he knew in his heart his time was up, his freedom was coming to an end.
McCafferty was anxious about his personal safety, asking if his confession would appear in my paper the following day, worried that he would have to leave his home, and knowing the conversation was leading only one way - straight to a police station for questioning and jail.
I had approached him to ask specific questions about claims of child sex abuse after a reader called the newsroom of sister paper in Scotland, The Daily Record.
Within 54 minutes of ringing McCafferty’s door bell, he had given me enough information to enable me not to only publish the claims but, incredibly, his confession.
When I left the flat in a building that once housed Belfast’s famous Curzon cinema, I made my way to a cafe on Ormeau Road to try to work out what exactly had just happened .. and to wait.
Exactly 17 minutes later, the happy noise coming from a neighbouring table of kids was interrupted by a phone call.
It was McCafferty. He simply said: “Jilly, I haven’t been entirely honest with you. Can you come back?”
And over the next three hours Jim McCafferty confirmed he was a paedophile and admitted he had expected a knock at the door one day.
His mood was almost jovial, and he said “You’ve been excellent. I’m glad it was you. In fact I’m delighted.”
With a solicitor secured, I told McCafferty his next move would be a visit to the PSNI where his confession would take matters on to a legal footing - and from there there would be no turning back.
I helped him pack a little overnight back with medication, a prescription, pressure socks and a few changes of clothing, I packed the thousands of pounds he had sitting in the kitchen into a jar and hid it in his freezer, then I drove him to Musgrave PSNI station in Belfast city centre.
Once outside the station he agreed to be recorded on video. He said: “I want to do this. I want to say I’m sorry and I want to show people that I mean it. I am feeling very down, very nervous about the future but I know I have to do this.
“I suspect the anxiety I am feeling tonight is nothing compared to what the people I hurt have been feeling over the years and it’s time to stand up and say sorry.
“I have been bad to people who didn’t deserve it and I want to apologise. I hope in time the people I hurt will find a way to forgive me although I will understand if they don’t.
“But I also want to say that I hope anyone who was bad to the youth players in any team in any club around Scotland, Ireland and England will come forward and admit what they did.
“If I can do it and face time in jail, then the rest of them can too. I wasn’t innocent, I was not the worst but I wasn’t the best either but it was all wrong and people who were hurt deserve to be recognised.
“They shouldn’t have to face a lengthy court case to get justice. I don’t want to be a part of that. I’ve done enough hurt. I’m drawing a line here. I hope others follow.”
Inside the police station, subdued and contrite, he was met by a solicitor and agreed to make a statement to police.
His morose self pity soon lifted when, too unsteady to stand for long, he slumped down in the public waiting area beside two young teenagers.
By the time I had walked the few feet from the reception desk to McCafferty, he already had their names, where they lived and their ages.
THIS was McCafferty the paedophile.
THIS was the opportunist who had ruined lives
THIS was the truth of his filthy, rotten character.
THIS was the monstrous, grooming abuser.
The irony that he felt comfortable chatting to youngsters inside a PSNI station moments before he was to confess to child abuse, appeared lost on him. I told him to leave them alone.
He looked at me, wounded, and said: “Och I’m only being friendly”, then he turned to them with a pained expression and said: “I’ve never been in trouble before.”
The teens said he would be OK and watched McCafferty as he shuffled into the police interrogation suite with his solicitor.
From Musgrave PSNI station on December 7, 2016, was convicted in Belfast and transported to Maghaberry Jail in Co Antrim, and later convicted in Edinburgh and jailed in HMP Addiewell, West Lothian.
And 890 days after his initial statement to a stranger who rang the buzzer of a South Belfast flat - he pleaded guilty to child sex abuse of an other 27 children.
In the end, after 50 years of vile abuse, of ruining lives, Jim McCafferty was dead aged 76, having served just shy of six years in jail.
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