I ended the call frustrated and angry. Who were these other people who’d received floral arrangements? What had their notes said? They were enough to give the police cause for concern. I didn’t like that.

It dawned on me that there was someone who seemed to have an inside source who was on the ball when it came to what was happening in the investigation. It was entirely possible Ingrid Devlin could tell me what DI Bradley wouldn’t, or couldn’t.

I had nothing to lose and my daughter’s reputation to protect, so I pulled the business card Ingrid had thrust at me out of the bin and looked at her phone number. I was going to call her.

I’d like to say she didn’t have a look of smugness about her when she sat down, but she did. It was subtle; something in the way she tilted her head and said: ‘I’m so glad you called.’ It was as if she’d never had even a moment’s doubt that I would, indeed, call. She spoke slowly, as if my age made me stupid.

Maybe it did. A sharper me would have called her out. I would have said: ‘Well, it’s not like you left me much choice, is it?’ But I wanted to keep her on side. If she had any information about any of this, from who’d sent the flowers and who else they’d been sent to, then I very much needed her to be on my side.

‘I think maybe we can help each other,’ I said, offering her a cup of tea.

She accepted and took out a notebook and pen, as well as her phone.

‘Do you mind if I record this interview as well? I always feel more comfortable when I can record. It means I can make eye contact with you more and I don’t have to have my head down over a notebook all the time.’ She smiled.

I agreed. ‘I’m only talking to you on the condition you leave my daughter out of this,’ I said. ‘We’ve been through enough. Her children don’t need to have what happened splashed all over the papers.’

Ingrid blinked her clear blue eyes at me and chewed on the end of her pen. ‘Well, the thing is, I wanted to talk to you about that.’

‘I’m sure you do, but it’s a no-go area for me.’

‘What if I told you that you weren’t the only person to receive flowers on Saturday? That they were all similar – all posies of forget-me-nots, all decorated with black ribbon. Cryptic messages.’

‘I’d tell you I already knew about that and it doesn’t change anything.’