‘He took a serious enough hit. But what it was, was a warning shot. I want it on record I was in fear of my life and my son’s life. I was not aiming at him at all. He broke on to my property. I was in fear of my life and was only trying to warn him off.’

The man was outside, on a mobile, his voice dipping in and out amid the ambient scratch and crumple of the elements.

‘I need your name,’ Noonan said, and when the man did not immediately answer she added, ‘It’s important you answer my questions now, please.’

‘Bertie. Bertie Creedon,’ the man said.

‘Where’s your property located, Mr Creedon?’

‘Rathreedane. I’m on the far side of Rathreedane.’

‘You’re going to have to narrow that down for me.’

‘Take the Bonniconlon road as far as Mills Turn. Do you know Mills Turn?’

‘I do,’ Noonan said, dashing down Mlls Trn in her notebook. ‘Where am I heading from there?’

‘Take the third road on the left after Mills Turn. Keep along that road a mile and a half until you come to a farm with a yellow bungalow and a ’92 Fiat motorhome up on bricks out the front.’

‘Yellow bungalow, ’92 Fiat motorhome, up on bricks,’ Noonan recited as she wrote. ‘OK – I have you, your young fella, and the fella’s been ­shot – is there anyone else to account for on the property?’

‘That’s it.’

‘And the injury. How many times was the fella shot?’

‘Just the once. By accident. Like I said.’

‘Where on his body did he take the hit, can you tell?’

‘In ­his – in his middle. His midriff.’

‘What kind a gun was he shot with?’

‘A shotgun.’

‘Double-­barrel?’

‘Double-­barrel.’

‘And that’s your gun, is it?’

The growl of a ­throat-­clear, almost ­gratified-­sounding, came down the line. ‘It’s legally registered and I’m lucky I have it.’

‘As far as you can determine, is the man bleeding badly? I don’t want you to go prodding at him but it’s important to stop the bleeding if you can.’

‘The son’s after going inside and emptying the press of every last towel. We have the wounds stanched as best we can.’

‘That’s good, Mr Creedon. Keep the pressure on the bleeding. We are coming right out. The ambulance is on the way too. What I would ask is that you render your gun safe if you haven’t already done ­so—’

‘What happened to this fella is on him,’ Creedon interjected with renewed conviction. ‘He was on my property, he was in the act of committing a crime and I was in fear for my life and my son’s life. I want that clear.’