‘Ingrid, we really think … I really think that you should consider your actions very carefully. We don’t know who did this to your car. We don’t, at this time, know who attacked Mr Doherty. We do know there is a link between the pair of you and, given what else has happened over the last week to you and your property …’

DS King has adopted a very stern voice. There’s a hint of concern there, but more than that, there’s a very clear message that she doesn’t want me out of her sight just now. Maybe she knows more than she is letting on.

I need to get to the heart of this story, I decide, even as the panic is still ebbing from my body, and preferably before anyone else. DS King is not going to be easy to get past, though.

A thought strikes me and I take a deep breath.

‘Actually, I don’t feel well,’ I tell DS King, clenching my muscles tightly and jiggling my legs, doing my very best to adopt a ‘stricken with panic’ look. ‘I don’t feel …’ I let my words taper off, breathe in and out in short, sharp bursts, trying to control the flow of oxygen to my lungs.

‘Is it another panic attack?’ DS King asks, her voice thick with concern.

I shake my head. ‘I don’t know,’ I say, putting my hand to my chest as if I’m in pain.

‘I’m taking you to the hospital,’ she says, issuing the order for DC Black to drive on.

He looks into the rear-view mirror just as I raise my head to look up. I catch his gaze, his raised eyebrow. I suspect he knows exactly what I’m doing, but I know he won’t have the guts to call me out on it.

If DS King won’t let me go home, and won’t let me go to Creggan, I’ll hedge my bets on Bernie Doherty being at the hospital waiting for news on her husband. If I happen to be there at the same time, and I happen to bump into her there, that’s just a coincidence, isn’t it? I can’t be accused of anything. Not when I’m clearly unwell.

I turn my gaze from his quickly, sit back in the seat and allow a tear to roll down my cheek. It isn’t hard for me to make myself cry when I need to. I’m well versed in doing exactly what I need to do to get a scoop. As a second tear follows, I realise that I’ve been holding my emotions in over this past week. It’s not hard, at all, to let some out. If I’m not careful, I’ll lose control of them altogether and start sobbing.