“You never really understood me, did you, Kristen?”
“The truth is that I understand you too well. That’s why I want a divorce, George.”
“Is there someone else?”
Dana hurried into the bedroom and turned on the set there.
Sime Lombardo was at the front door. He knocked.
“Don’t open it,” Dana warned Marianne. Dana checked to make sure that her microphone was live. The knocking at the door became louder.
“Let’s get out of here,” Marianne whispered. “The back—”
At that moment, the front door splintered open and Sime charged into the room. He closed the door behind him and looked at the two women. “Ladies. I see that I have both of you.”
Desperately, Dana glanced toward the television set.
“If there is someone else, it’s your fault, George.”
“Perhaps I am at fault, Kristen.”
Sime Lombardo took a .22 caliber semiautomatic pistol out of his pocket and started screwing a silencer onto the barrel.
“No!“ Dana said. “You can’t—”
Sime raised the gun. “Shut up. Into the bedroom—go on.”
Marianne mumbled, “Oh, my God!”
“Listen…” Dana said. “We can—”
“I told you to shut up. Now move.”
Dana looked at the television set.
“I’ve always believed in second chances, Kristen. I don’t want to lose what we had—what we could have again.”
The same voices echoed from the television set in the bedroom.
Sime commanded, “I told you two to move! Let’s get this over with.”
As the two panicky women took a tentative step toward the bedroom, the red light on the camera in the corner suddenly turned on. The images of Kristen and George faded from the screen and an announcer’s voice said, “We interrupt this program to take you now live to a breaking story in the Wheaton area.”
As the soap opera faded, the Gorman living room suddenly appeared on the screen. Dana and Marianne were in the foreground, Sime in the background. Sime stopped, confused, as he saw himself on the television set.
“What—what the hell is this?”
In the van, the technicians watched the new image flash on the screen. “My God,” Vernon Mills said. “We’re live!”
Dana glanced at the screen and breathed a silent prayer. She turned to face the camera. “This is Dana Evans coming to you live from the home of Carl Gorman, who was murdered a few days ago. We’re interviewing a man who has some information about his murder.” She turned to face him. “So—would you like to tell us exactly what happened?”
Lombardo stood there, paralyzed, watching himself on the screen, licking his lips. “Hey!”
From the television set, he heard himself say, “Hey!” and he saw his image move, as he swung toward Dana. “What—what the hell are you doing? What kind of trick is this?”
“It’s not a trick. We’re on the air, live. There are two million people watching us.”
Lombardo saw his image on the screen and hastily put the gun back into his pocket.
Dana glanced at Marianne Gorman, then looked Sime Lombardo square in the eye. “Peter Tager is behind the murder of Carl Gorman, isn’t he?”
In the Daly Building, Nick Reese was in his office when an assistant rushed in. “Quick! Take a look at this! They’re at Gorman’s house.” He turned the television set to Channel Six, and the picture flashed on the screen.
“Did Peter Tager tell you to kill Carl Gorman?”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about. Turn that damned television set off before I—”
“Before you what? Are you going to kill us in front of two million people?”
“Jesus!” Nick Reese shouted. “Get some patrol cars out there, fast!”
In the Blue Room in the White House, Oliver and Jan were watching station WTE, stunned.
“Peter?” Oliver said slowly. “I can’t believe it!”
Peter Tager’s secretary hurried into his office. “Mr. Tager, I think you had better turn on Channel Six.” She gave him a nervous look and hurried out again. Peter Tager looked after her, puzzled. He picked up the remote and pressed a button, and the television set came to life.
Dana was saying, “…and was Peter Tager also responsible for the death of Chloe Houston?”
“I don’t know anything about that. You’ll have to ask Tager.”