... Visigoth's dialing fingers. I just answered the door to find a mobile computer tech on the porch. She had apparently gotten a call from my Lovely and Brilliant Wife, to come fix a faulty laptop port. I called her and lo and behold, she hadn't.
It didn't take much to put two and two and nine together and figure out that it was Visigoth. To his credit, he didn't try to deny it. Which (combined with the fact that we weren't charged for the visit) is the only reason I haven't stuffed him in a box and mailed him to Tristan da Cunha or some equally inaccessible place.