‘Didn’t think it was anything serious,’ she says slowly as she writes the words into her notebook, shaking her head at the end.

‘Look, officers, here’s the thing. I’m a journalist. If I contacted you every time I got a nasty letter in the post, you’d never have time to do any other work.’

‘Surely you don’t get the window of your car put in on a regular basis, though?’ DS King asks.

‘Well … no … But you can’t help but make enemies in this job. Journalists fall foul of everyone at some time. Even the police,’ I say, looking directly at her.

She doesn’t blush, but then again, it’s not her toes I’ve trodden on. Her boss, the inimitable DI Bradley, might not stay so quiet if he were here.

‘I’d say someone breaking into your home and leaving this message escalates things, though,’ she says.

I can’t argue, so I nod. ‘And that’s why I called you.’

‘You say you were working all day. At the newspaper office?’

‘No. I was in Portstewart. Doing an interview. Research for a book.’

‘Another true crime book on the go?’ she asks.

I nod. ‘Well, hopefully. I don’t have it signed off by my editor yet, but that’s the plan.’

‘Related to the Kelly Doherty murder?’

I wonder if she knows that Portstewart is where Jamesy has been housed. I imagine she does.

‘As it happens, I was interviewing Jamesy Harte yesterday.’

She raises an eyebrow again while she writes his name in her notebook – as if she is ever likely to forget it.

‘The aforementioned “paedo” alluded to on the note in your car, perhaps?’ she asks.

‘He claims he was framed. That he was an easy target.’

‘The police investigation and trial jury clearly thought differently,’ she says. ‘And I’d hazard a guess he’s not come to Derry because he knows he might not be welcome here.’

‘Yes. That’s correct.’

‘And are there many people who knew you were talking to Jamesy? Who know you’re working on this book.’

I think for a moment. There’s Ryan and Declan. Lorcan Duffy, the councillor, knows I’m doing interviews. I’m sure some of my colleagues have an idea. But none of those people knew I was in Portstewart yesterday.

I give DS King a list of all those names and tell her, honestly, I can’t imagine any of those people being in any way responsible for the break-in, or the attack on my car.

She tells me she’ll have to talk to them and I cringe at what Ryan will say. So much for keeping this quiet. I jump at a buzz at the door signalling the arrival of the SOCO team.

Chapter Fifteen

Declan