This weekend, John Darwin walked into a police station in London and said he couldn't remember anything that had happened to him for the past five and a half years. This could be explained by the fact that for the past four years or so, he's been dead. He was last seen paddling his canoe in the North Sea in March 2002, shortly before the smashed remains of the canoe were found washed up. A year later, he was declared legally dead and, I presume, his wife collected the insurance.
That was on Saturday, and the story keeps getting more interesting. There have been rumours of financial difficulties around the time he disappeared; someone who bought a house which once belonged to him kept getting bailiffs coming around demanding to see him. His wife appears to have upped stakes rather suddenly and moved to Panama only recently. And now John Darwin has been arrested on suspicion of fraud.
The Mirror has found a photograph from what seems to be a Panamanian letting agency which appears to show Mr and Mrs Darwin standing side by side in a Panamanian apartment last year.
The police are now saying they launched an investigation into the Darwin disappearance three months ago, although at that time they didn't know he was alive.
All of which made me think of an old Laurence Harvey film this evening. I'm fascinated.
Developing, as Drudge says.