For several weeks I have been attempting to establish whether Inverness Tourist Board actually exists, so when a series of discreet telephone calls, messages and meetings in dark corners of Inverness eventually secured me an exclusive interview with Fanny DeVito, the elusive man behind it, there was only one immediate problem: he wanted to meet me in Dingwall.

This was inconvenient because Inverness Tourist Board maintains that Dingwall does not exist, I have previously been unable to establish conclusively that Dingwall exists, and arranging a meeting with a man whose own existence I had yet to verify in a town whose existence remains disputed presented obvious logistical difficulties.

Armed with my concessionary bus pass, I boarded a vehicle displaying Dingwall as its destination and decided to see where it took me.

Against expectations, I arrived somewhere.

Waiting for me was Fanny DeVito, who had agreed to speak exclusively to Conspiracy Corner about Inverness Tourist Board, Dingwall and some of the other matters which have occupied an organisation whose interpretation of tourism appears considerably broader than most.

His official title, I discovered, is neither chairman nor chief executive, but Benevolent Overseer.

I began with the obvious question: if Dingwall does not exist, where exactly were we?

“You could argue that everything was a simulation, sure,” DeVito told me, before identifying what he regarded as a serious flaw in that theory, “but then how do you explain things Ant & Dec or Aberdeen?”

“Not even the most heinous of the AI could conceive of such dastardly things,” he continued, “these are manmade monstrosities, plain and simple!”

Dingwall, however, is different.

According to DeVito, Dingwall is “a state of mind”, created in our collective imagination by shadowy figures known only as Them, whom he identifies as a subdivision of Highland Council entrusted with raising the aspirations of Highlanders through “the crushing existential dread that accompanies being a bit rubbish.”

He claims generations of Inverness children have been encouraged to study hard lest they end up in Dingwall and face parental disownment, or at least words broadly to that effect.

“Dingwall is that strange creaking of the stairs late at night,” he explained, “Dingwall is the Black Isler hiding under your bed.”

Then came the statement that potentially changed the entire investigation.

“We are not in Dingwall. Dingwall is in all of us.”

This presented a significant evidential problem because I had travelled there specifically to establish whether Dingwall existed and was now being told I had inadvertently brought it with me.

I moved to firmer ground and asked whether Inverness Tourist Board actually had a board.

“Aye, we are many,” DeVito said, explaining that ITB had existed for some time but was truly awakened when VisitScotland closed its visitor centres and, in his assessment, “resorted to posting utter pish about Highland cows all the livelong day”.

There are apparently no minutes and no meetings because members are too busy promoting Inverness, while the Benevolent Overseer’s responsibilities include producing aspirational content, offering gentle encouragement and occasionally dealing with people online who have been unwise enough to criticise a city he regards as pretty bloody perfect.

His qualifications are similarly unconventional, consisting principally of having lived and worked in Inverness throughout his life, as did his father, his father’s father and, when circumstances permitted, his father’s father’s father, although the latter apparently spent considerable time incarcerated in the colonies.

There remained one sensitive matter.

England.

ITB’s output displays a recurring interest in our neighbours to the south, but DeVito denied any general hostility towards the English, explaining instead that every country contains its share of objectionable people and Inverness remains open to them regardless.

The fascination apparently began during the World Cup when ITB discovered some England supporters were particularly responsive to provocation, and occasional references have continued ever since, with DeVito assuring me that some of the organisation’s best friends are now English.

For perspective I returned to the Official Loch Ness Monster Sightings Register, where extraordinary claims at least arrive with dates, locations and an identifiable Registrar of Sightings in Paige Daley, an administrative structure that continues to make Nessie look increasingly conventional beside almost everything else I investigate.

I now know considerably more about Inverness Tourist Board than when this began, including the identity of its Benevolent Overseer, the existence of numerous unnamed associates and the disturbing possibility that Dingwall may not be somewhere you travel to at all.

My bus pass got me there and back, although I am no longer entirely certain where there was.

Whether Dingwall exists remains unresolved.

Whether Inverness Tourist Board exists has moved from doubtful to provisionally probable.

Whether Fanny DeVito exists is considerably easier to establish, although after speaking to him I am less certain about everybody else.

If you have any conspiracies you would like Aye to investigate, email conspiracycorner@thehighlandtimes.com