12 #DeadManTalking

Bryce Horrigan @BryceTripleB

Thanks for all your tweets folks, but don’t act so surprised. #IDeservedIt

It was followed a minute later by:

Bryce Horrigan @BryceTripleB

Someone needs to protect the innocents. #BabyKiller

Connor showed the tweets to April, who adopted the fixed smile that he knew only too well, which meant she didn’t have the slightest idea what was going on.

‘It’s so weird to read tweets from a dead man,’ Connor said, returning to his keyboard to rattle out the Bryce Horrigan ‘copy’ for what would appear online for the Daily Chronicle in a matter of minutes and form the basis for the next day’s newsprint splash.

‘It’s not really Bryce. He’s dead, of course,’ Connor added, seeing that April’s fixed smile expression was starting to morph into one of total confusion. ‘Someone has hacked his account and is sending tweets and photos. It’s cocky as hell. A bit like the real Bryce.’

‘How on earth can they do that?’ April asked in genuine amazement.

‘I honestly don’t know. But it’s a safe bet the US authorities will be trying to work that out right now. However the hacker’s doing it, they’re confident enough they won’t get caught,’ Connor explained.

‘And what’s all this “baby killer” stuff? What am I missing?’ April asked.

‘About six months ago Bryce started banging the drum for the pro-choice groups in America. It’s totally alien to us, but in the States abortion is still a big issue. He clearly liked the publicity, so he really ramped it up, getting anti-abortion lobbyists on his show and basically shouting at them.

‘The liberal showbiz lot loved him for it. All the actors he got on his talk show at night would praise him for his stance – without going as far as endorsing his view, of course, in case it wrecked their careers. It gave Bryce huge kudos. And as you’ll remember, Bryce liked kudos. But it also earned him some serious death threats. He was taking one hell of a risk. Which is weird because, for all his faults, he was one smart bastard. But he was almost goading the nutters to take a pot shot at him.’

‘Which they duly obliged,’ April replied glibly.

‘Yeah, so it would seem. Anyway, the newsdesk already has someone hitting his folks’ house; why don’t you try Pasty? Remember her?’

‘No,’ April said truthfully.

‘Pasty Tolan. Bryce’s girlfriend. She’d always turn up at our nights out,’ Connor said, dropping in the clues until he saw that familiar flicker of recognition.

‘Ah, Pasty – the very pale girl. Posh voice. Torn-faced,’ April said, pleased with her powers of recall.

‘Yeah, she was in public relations. Went out with Bryce for years. Moved to London with him until… well, his head was turned. She’s back in Scotland now with her own firm,’ Connor explained.

‘Pasty Public Relations has a certain ring to it,’ April said, giggling at her own joke.

‘She’s probably used her actual name, Patricia Tolan, I think you’ll find. Right, go and clear it with Big Fergie.’

Big Fergie was the acting news editor after the sudden departure of their last boss, the Weasel. He was named Big Fergie as he looked uncannily like a fat version of Manchester United’s legendary manager, Alex Ferguson.

‘Pasty will be a great hit. Might be a good one to get in the bag for a day two follow-up. All that “I’ve lost the love of my life” crap you’re good at,’ Connor added, thinking in headlines. Like many journalists he had been taught to work a story backwards with the belief that a decent headline was the foundation to every good article.

Connor was buzzing with the adrenalin that came with working on a big, breaking news story. And they didn’t get much bigger than this.