The thought that a man might have spent the better part of two decades in prison for a crime he didn’t commit – and one of the most heinous crimes a person could commit at that – makes my blood run cold. But it also fires up the journalist in me. This is a once-in-a-lifetime chance to be at the very heart of a major story.

‘Don’t be fooled by him and all the do-gooders jumping on the “innocent man” bandwagon. I covered that story at the time, Ingrid. That murder was stomach-churning. You’re too young to remember. Too wet behind the ears. Believe me, Harte doesn’t deserve redemption. He doesn’t deserve to become a figure for the miscarriage-of-justice bleeding hearts to get their knickers in a knot over. We don’t give child killers voices.’

I stay quiet. I don’t tell him that although I was young at the time, I probably have a more vivid memory of it all than he does. He wouldn’t listen anyway. When Ryan gets a bee in his bonnet about something, nothing on this earth will make him change his mind. If he doesn’t want an interview with Jamesy Harte, that’s one thing. But I’m not personally prepared to stop working on the story. It would kill me. Yes, I’ll give Ryan the hearts and flowers piece he wants, but that doesn’t mean I can’t do a bit of investigating in my own time.

‘Stick to a colour piece, Ingrid,’ Ryan says, cutting through my thoughts. ‘Use some of the old pictures. Talk about the sense of shock. Go easy on this one. Your “bull in a china shop” approach won’t get you very far here.’

Funnily enough, he has never objected to my ‘bull in a china shop’ approach before – not when it was getting him exclusives and sending his sales, as well as his website click rate, soaring.

‘Okay, boss,’ I say, trying to hide my annoyance but not managing to do so.

‘I mean it, Ingrid. Or I can assign someone else to it if you think you can’t follow instructions.’

I tell Ryan what he needs to hear. I don’t want to get on the wrong side of him, even if I don’t agree with his stance. He’s been in this game a lot longer than I have. Then again, maybe that’s his problem – he’s been doing this job so long he has lost his fire for it. That burning desire to tell the story and fuck the consequences has been extinguished by bonuses, promises of early retirement and a nice leaving package from the company if he doesn’t rock the boat.

Me? I’m not opposed to a bit of boat-rocking every now and again.

Chapter Three

Ingrid