There were so many things she wanted to say, but instead she bit her tongue, and politely replied.

“I’m sorry, that was my mistake, and I think the viewers will understand if you go over the limit to answer their questions instead of mine.”

“Will they?” he eyed the camera dubiously, “I mean, that’s subtraction, and only 4 out of 3 people understand math.”

She could almost hear the cymbal-crash going through every head at that moment.

“Hmm, maybe you’re right, Mr. Hamm,” she replied, smiling sweetly, “In which case we’ll save these questions for the end, and I’ll ask you a few more – than a few!” she added quickly.

He smirked, “Fire away.”

She turned a few pages. He held up a hand and she glanced up, “But,” he said, “Don’t burn down the house.”

Again she chuckled, but this time it was real. A perfect opening.

“I don’t know, Mr. Hamm, that’s pretty violent-minded, don’t you think?”

He frowned, “Maybe, but I’m not sure ‘pretty’ and ‘violent’ should go in the same sentence. That is, unless we’re talking about my sister,” he winked at the camera.

Ms. Parker laughed, “I can see why so many of your fans call your humor ‘deadly’. Do you agree with this assessment?”

“Sure, I’ve murdered loads of people,” he replied, “Do you know the single most common comment I get on my YouTube videos?”

“No, what?” she breathed. She knew.

“’I died,’” he said, making air-quotes, “At this rate, I’ve gotta at least be a serial killer.”

“I’ve heard death by laughter is a good thing,” Ms. Parker commented.

“Depends on how slow the death is,” he smirked.

Only Ms. Parker could hear the cymbal crash this time. She had him – on a silver platter.

[next morning]

It was beautiful. The crisp Truth Be Told headline rippled like a battle-banner across the countless TV screens of all Truth Be Told viewers world-wide: “Famous Comedian Confesses to Multiple Murders!” Ms. Parker could hardly stifle the glee which threatened to burst forth in insane laughter. She had him – and this was only the beginning.

“Good afternoon, agents,” she greeted the two black-suited men, “I’m Ms. Parker with the Truth Be Told news agency. I’m also the witness who gave you the tip on the suspected serial killer Mr. Joshua Hamm. Your FBI superintendent said I will be joining you to identify the murderer.”

And they were there.

Two levels up in the high-end apartment building elevator, and they stepped out into a clean hall, two doors away from Mr. Hamm’s apartment. One agent knocked on the door. Moments later, it was opened by a bed-headed Mr. Joshua Hamm.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Hamm. I’m agent Phillips, this is agent Winters, and Ms. Parker with Truth Be Told. We are requesting permission to search your apartment.”

Mr. Hamm’s shocked gaze landed on Ms. Parker’s triumphant face. His eyes gleamed with understanding, and then narrowed.

“Certainly, gentlemen, come right in. I keep the bodies in my fridge.”