Dead Famous

DAY FORTY-NINE. 7.30 p.m.

Hamish was evicted in the usual manner, but nobody noticed very much. Try as Chloe might to drum up some interest in his departure, all anybody wanted to talk about was the sensational news that another murder was to take place.

The whole world buzzed with the news that one of the final three would die.

“It’s curious, isn’t it?” Coleridge said, inspecting the ugly scrawled note that lay in Geraldine’s office in a plastic evidence bag.

“It’s fucking chilling, if you ask me,” said Geraldine. “I mean, how the hell would he have known he was going to be in a position to do Kelly on day twenty-seven? I hadn’t even had the idea for the sweatbox then. Besides, he might have been evicted by then. I mean, he couldn’t get back into the house, could he? And what about this stuff about killing one of the last three? I mean, nobody knows who the last three will be. It’s up to the public”

“Yes,” said Coleridge. “It is all very strange, isn’t it? Do you think there’ll be another murder, Ms Hennessy?”

“Well, I don’t really see how there can be… On the other hand, he was right about Kelly, wasn’t he? I mean, the predictions envelope was put in the cupboard at the end of week one. There’ve been cameras trained on that cupboard ever since. There is no way it could have been interfered with. Somehow the killer knew.”

“It would certainly seem so.”

At that point Geraldine’s PA entered the office. “Two things,” said the PA. “First, I don’t know how you did it, Geraldine, but you did. The Americans have agreed to your price of two million dollars a minute for the worldwide rights to the final show, the Financial Times are calling you a genius…”

“And the second thing?” asked Geraldine.

“Not such good news. Did you see Moon in the confession box? They want a million each, right now, up front, to stay in the house for another moment.”

“Where’s my cheque book?” said Geraldine.

“Isn’t that against the rules?” Coleridge asked.

“Chief inspector, this is a television show. The rules are whatever we want them to be.”

“Oh yes, I was forgetting. I suppose that’s true.”

“And this show,” Geraldine crowed triumphantly, “goes right down to the wire.”