‘We certainly hope that isn’t the case, but of course we can’t rule it out,’ John Saunders said. ‘However, the evidence does seem to suggest otherwise. I’ve just received a forensics report on the bullets used in the murders of DI Dave Prentiss, Marion Nash and Warren Christie, the officer shot in Balham High Road yesterday evening. It confirms that they all came from the same weapon. And they’re also a match for the bullet that wounded Mr Aidan Bray in his home.’

The story dominated the airwaves. It was as though there was nothing else happening in the world.

There was so much for broadcasters to get their teeth into. The human-interest angles. The implications for law and order across the country. The fact that it was proving so easy for someone to cause so much chaos and confusion. And the continued speculation as to who it might be.

Politicians were lining up to condemn the killings. Most insisted that the Met must not close down the task force operations. But there was one who called for them to be suspended temporarily in view of how much blood had already been shed.

I had not seen this kind of hysteria since London was last targeted by terrorists. Then the coverage was focused entirely on the victims, the carnage, the ISIS suicide bombers who were known to have been responsible.

But this was different. These weren’t random attacks. Police officers and their loved ones were being targeted. And the killer was a mysterious woman who, according to witnesses, was more like a model than a murderer. So in many ways it was a far more interesting story.

For the news media it was manna from heaven: a story that just kept on giving. But for the rest of us it was a ghastly nightmare that showed no sign of ending any time soon.

Aidan was awake when his parents arrived earlier than expected at 1pm. He was able to talk, which came as such a relief to them and to me.

They had lots of questions and I answered them as best I could. But describing what had happened back at the house – and keeping schtum about the miscarriage – was a real challenge and I kept choking on my words.

And it was just as bad when I ran through what the doctor had told me about the damage to Aidan’s shoulder, including the fact that he might never regain full use of his arm.

Aidan held it together better than I did, and pointed out that at least he wasn’t dead, which made me smile.

After he fell asleep we retreated to the waiting room where I switched on the TV and his parents saw for themselves what was going on.

His mother, Veronica, was beside herself.