Tabloid Page #6

as I was the first."

I wanted him to be strong

and say, "Yes, I love her,

"and I'm gonna tell

the truth right now,

and let's get rid of this."

But he was so scared.

You know, you can tell a lie

long enough till you believe it.

For 55 minutes, Ms. McKinney

poured out her statement

to an occasionally

confused magistrate.

At one point, he stopped her

and said, "I'm lost."

And Ms. McKinney, speaking

in a North Carolina drawl,

put the whole case in this way:

Referring to the young Mormon,

Kirk Anderson, she said,

"He put me in prison

to save himself

from excommunication

and family disgrace."

This was a phony kidnap

according to Ms. McKinney.

Referring to the episode down

in the Devon cottage, she said,

"We had three days of fun,

food, and sex."

By this time,

the British Isles was on fire

with the Joyce McKinney story.

That was all

that was being talked about

in the pubs and taverns

and restaurants.

"Where were you when you read

the Joyce McKinney story?"

You know.

I mean, it had kinky sex.

It had religion.

It had a beauty queen,

kidnap at gunpoint,

chains, being spread-eagled.

It had Mormon missionaries.

And there was something

in that story for everyone.

It was a perfect tabloid story.

I mean,

I could never understand

the public's fascination

with my love life.

I'm not a movie star.

I'm just a person,

a human being,

that was caught in

an extraordinary circumstance.

The Daily Express

and the Mirror were locked

in almost deadly combat

over the Joyce McKinney story.

And then it all

kind of went away

until she was released on bail.

And then there was a kind

of burst of stuff again.

I was let out on bail

to await the upcoming trial

to clear my name.

Somebody sent a limousine

to pick me up at the prison,

and here I exit the prison,

and I mean,

I've got lice powder in my hair.

I'm supposed to be

this ex-beauty queen,

and all the cameras are there,

and, you know, I look like...

That was my first taste

of the press.

And when I got back

to the bed-and-breakfast,

I started to very quietly

get out of the limousine.

I'm thinking, "I wonder

who sent this car, you know,

at the prison to pick me up?"

And I was going to go in

and hug my mom and dad and say,

"I'm home!"

All of a sudden,

the sky lit up with flashbulbs.

Suddenly night became day.

I was suddenly a celebrity.

I didn't ask to be a celebrity.

I didn't want to be a celebrity.

But it was like a wave.

It was like a "phenomen-imum."

So what have these last

few months been like for you?

Well, I've been very busy.

It's been amazing,

the way the public

has responded to my case.

I got close to 1,000 letters

from the British public.

The rest of the time

that I'm not answering letters

or something of this nature,

I'm working on my book.

What kind of a book is that?

Well, this is my life story,

and it's the story

of how I met Kirk,

and the name of it is

A Very Special Love Story.

I had said something like

I loved Kirk so much,

I'd have skied naked

down Mount Everest

with a carnation in my nose.

When I went into

the bed-and-breakfast,

there were pink carnations

all over the room!

There were pink carnations

in the closet, in the sink,

on the floor, on the bed.

Sacks of mail

from all over the world.

People wanted me to autograph

their baby's bellies,

their elbows,

their cigarette packs!

I got marriage proposals.

I got maps with directions

to guys' houses saying,

"Please come and kidnap

and rape me anytime, honey!"

It kind of got a life

of its own.

I remember, I was at a party.

It was an after-party

for Saturday Night Fever,

and Johnny Travolta was there.

And the Bee Gees came over

and asked me to dance,

and, you know...

Keith Moon... he was the drummer

for The Who... spied me,

and he told

one of the reporters,

"I want to meet the girl."

He was with his girlfriend.

I mean, there was nothing

between me and Keith,

but he came over,

and he says,

"Joycie girl, I'm gonna give you

a big old smooch."

And he just kissed me!

And that was

just getting started.

Peter McKay, my editor,

said to me,

"Why don't you hire

a Rolls-Royce

"and take Joyce to the premiere

of The Stud

and upstage

the show business element?"

Was there a chance that you

could actually do this?

Could you upstage Joan Collins

with Joyce McKinney?

Well, we did.

She stepped out

of this Rolls-Royce,

and all the press went mad.

I mean, it was as if...

I don't know...

Marilyn Monroe got out

or the queen.

I mean,

certainly more excitement

than when Joan Collins

got out of her limousine.

She returned home at midnight

like Cinderella.

Presumably, Keith May

had been packing their bags,

because they disappeared

a day later.

The police had opposed bail,

believing that the couple

would leave the country

if it were granted.

Since their disappearance

was discovered on Thursday,

the police have kept a watch

on all air and seaports,

but they were last seen by

neighbors on Wednesday evening.

I never fled.

Don't use the word "fled."

I resent the word "fled."

I left.

- They went to the airport

as deaf-mutes, I gather.

Quite clever, really.

I went, and I got the birth

certificates of two dead people.

I didn't figure they'd mind.

And I got me a travel visa.

I put on a granny wig,

and I made me a fat suit.

You know what a fat suit is,

like in Norbit.

I said,

"Keith, we're going home."

So I dye his hair coal black,

and I made him

a little handlebar moustache

and darkened his skin,

like Pedro Gonzalez.

And I found out there was

a troop of deaf actors

going to the States via Canada.

Well, let me tell ya,

I put some little signs on us,

and it said,

"I am deaf, but I can lip-read.

Please enunciate your words

slowly and speak clearly."

I remember the stewardess said,

"Get these dummies

on the plane!"

The other one said,

"Shh, They'll hear you!"

And she goes, "No, they won't!

They're stone deaf!"

We got to Canada,

and it's at night,

and they stop us in immigration.

I had 13 suitcases

full of news clips.

In those suitcases are

hundreds of pictures of me,

magazine covers

and all this stuff.

They're gonna look at me

and say, "Oh, oh, oh, oh!"

They go, "13 suitcases?

You immigrating?"

And I go...

And she goes, "Oh, you're deaf!

Okay!

We cannot get our interpreter

at night!"

And she's talking louder

and louder.

She gives me a pencil,

"I tired.

May I go now, please?"

Lady goes, "Eh, go on."

Ten days later,

I was in my office

in the Daily Express building.

The telephone rang

one evening about 6:00.

And I picked it up,

and it was Joyce.

She said that she wanted to sell

her story to the Daily Express

for 40,000.

We arranged there and then

for me to fly out to Atlanta

and wait in the Atlanta airport

Hilton hotel.

I went to the door,

and there outside

were these two Indians...

like Indians from Calcutta.

They should have been arrested

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