Dead Famous

DAY THIRTY-FOUR. 10.20 p.m.

The three police officers watched as Layla disappeared behind the baying crowd, heading straight for obscurity.

“I think we should definitely talk to her,” Coleridge said. “There’s a lot of anger there and we need to know more about it.”

“Besides which,” observed Hooper, “she knows them all better than we ever will. Perhaps she has a theory.”

“Everybody’s got a theory,” Coleridge replied ruefully, “except us.”

On the screens the remaining housemates still looked shell-shocked.

“Well, O hunters and killers,” Woggle said through a broken-toothed smile, “the people sided with life over death and light over darkness. It appears that the revolution beginneth.”

David got to his feet.

“You’re right there, Woggle. I’m going to have a word with Peeping Tom.”