So, was she, as many admirers have claimed, the best investigative reporter in Malta, or that Malta has ever seen? I don’t know, because I can’t actually think of another journalist on these islands who comes into, or anywhere near, the same category.

There was a school of thought in Fleet Street, in my day, that all reporters should be “investigative”. But that was never the case. Some simply sat, as many do now, merely putting their names on top of press releases, or writing about the tweets of politicians.

Investigative reporters (there were a few photographers, too) were a different breed. There were never many of them, but I was once one.

It was what first brought me to Malta. I was investigating the building of the Gozo hospital with British money, and a British architect who was sending money to Maltese developers to bribe Maltese politicians for the work. (I had the proof of it in my pocket.)

The day after one of these builders had declined to talk to me the Maltese CID came round to my hotel before breakfast to inform me that I was being deported. I had “upset somebody” with my enquiries. In fact I learnt later – because there never were any secrets on Malta (at least, not for long) – that the guy had complained to George Borg Olivier, who had called Prime Minister Dom Mintoff (who wasn’t involved in it) and asked him to have me kicked off the island on the next plane out.

The cops told me I could make my own way to Luqa, or be taken by them in handcuffs – which would be removed only when the aircraft had landed… in Rome, as it happened; not even in London.

So… don’t talk to me, about “freedom of the press”, or of speech or expression, in Malta. I have been there, got the T-shirt. Somebody once wrote in this newspaper that I should wear my deportation “like a medal”. Deported by Dom… yes, except that it was only Desperate Dom doing a favour for his friend George.

Nearly 20 years later I noticed Daphne’s writing and started following it. She wrote confidently in English, although most of her subject matter didn’t particularly interest me. Her personal political complexion was clear enough and I learnt quite a bit about the local ‘culture’ from her. But it was only relatively recently that she actually started campaigning.

She suddenly had more than her own personal agenda to write about. She had what certainly appeared to be the proof of wrongful behaviour – and maybe of criminality.

In Malta, the majority of people don’t have opinions, they have parties

I’d say that at this stage Daphne became, perhaps not so much an investigating journalist, as an exposing one. I don’t know how much actual “investigation” work she had to do. Perhaps unfairly, my reading of it was that, for the most part, she was being handed the stuff on a plate.

And once she had started, there seemed to be no stopping her. Clearly – it became obvious, at least, to me – people in both parties were passing information to her about their (ahem) friends and associates.

Out of spite? Maybe. But what made Daphne stand out above the herd was that she obviously didn’t write anything that she couldn’t substantiate – which is why most of the writs (that fall like confetti in ‘freedom of speech’ Malta) and the threatened libel actions simply faded away as mere bluster.

Her readers obviously loved her writing. By lunchtime most days they were talking about it in the shops and in the bars.

It did not follow that they loved her, even though thousands are professing to mourn her horrendous passing. That’s something quite different.

Because Daphne was what we used to call an opinion former. She would report the stunning news that she had discovered and then comment on it and explain it.

But in Malta, the majority of people don’t have opinions, they have parties.

The PN loved it when she attacked the PL. But, thin-skinned lot that they are, they couldn’t bear it when she attacked them, and their new leader. Simply put, she was going to expose anybody who she believed – with the evidence to support it – was bent or behaving outrageously.

We were friends. We met very rarely and exchanged private thoughts by e-mail occasionally. We shared an interest in separating the truth from the rubbish.

I will miss her and my thoughts are with her family. They should also be with Malta, which has also suffered a great loss. But Malta doesn’t deserve condolence.

As Jack Nicholson famously said in the movie A Few Good Men: “You want the truth? You can’t handle the truth!”

Yes, Malta wanted it. And needed it. But the Maltese couldn’t handle it.

Revel Barker is a former Fleet Street reporter and newspaper executive, and long-term resident in Gozo.