Foreword

We feel the circumstances surrounding our obtaining and publishing the following manuscript are bizarre enough to merit special note.

Though it purports to be the diary for one of television's most popular personalities, though it closely parallels the known facts about her life and career, though it offers a plausible explanation for her untimely and grisly demise, we can make absolutely no claims for its authenticity.

It was not obtained through the usual author or author's agent channels, but rather, through a non-literary third party, a broker in oddities who has since left the country.

We confess that the police were singularly disinterested in any new evidence contained in this manuscript and foreword. As you may recall, the case was judged by authorities to be an "accidental death" less than a week after the tragedy occurred... and so it stands. Since law enforcement officials rejected this diary as "pure bunk, fiction from start to finish." We are publishing it as just that.

We will let you, the reader, decide as to truth and falsehood, accident and murder.

A Mother's Plea

Dear Harold,

Lord knows, as son-in-law and mother-in-law, the two of us haven't been exactly close over the years. That awful "bowling establishment" you insist on operating has been a thorn in my side for a long, long time. Undoubtedly, our differences will always be too great for anything remotely resembling mutual respect, but... I am asking you now to put aside all your hatred of me, as I am disregarding my contempt for you.

What I have to say to you now is very difficult, not only as a mother, but as a normal, healthy woman with normal, healthy drives. It is an admission of failure as a parent. Total failure. I am glad Mr. Oliver is not alive today to see this letter, to read the horrible truth about his darling daughter, Polly.

The bound volume I have enclosed with this note is your wife's diary. I discovered it quite by accident while I was straightening up her dressing room at the studio. After you have begun reading it, Harold, you will understand why I swallowed my pride and contacted you.

Never, not in my darkest imaginings, could I have thought my own daughter capable of such... such criminal depravity. To be perfectly honest, Harold, I vomited after reading the first entry. But it does explain so much: her odd behaviour over the years, her moods, the long silences, her treatment of you... you poor, poor man. It even explains her fantastic success.

You must believe me when I say it was not out of spite that I sent this to you. I am not interested in rubbing your nose in it. But I knew in my heart of hearts that you, as a husband. as a man, would want to know.

I can only pray that after reading this revolting confession, you will for once in your life be enough of a man to do what's absolutely necessary.

Sincerely
Mrs. Ginger Oliver

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