Coughing up the answer

Accusations of fraud in TV game shows are nothing new. Police are currently looking into a claim that a number of the participants in I'm a Celebrity, Get Me Out Of Here were not in fact celebrities at all, but rather tragic rejects from the provincial panto circuit. (On another occasion an impostor on Mastermind was prevented from entering the studio when police noticed he was wearing vaguely fashionable clothes.) And there was also outrage recently on University Challenge, when the captain of some Oxbridge team actually allowed the token female to give her correct response herself, rather than confidently repeating her whispered answer as if he'd known it all along.

(But the allegations currently occupying Southwark crown court are far more serious because of the prize involved. I'm not saying that the commemorative glass bowl that the BBC dished out to the winner of Mastermind was a worthless piece of tat, not at all, it's just that given the choice I suspect many of the winners would have preferred a million quid.)

But now the third person to win the ultimate prize on Who Wants to Be A Millionaire stands accused of cheating. This week the defendant took the witness box and the prosecution's cross examination began. "Are you Major Charles Ingram from Easterton, Wiltshire?" The courtroom lights dimmed, and the electronic heartbeat of the Millionaire theme tune pulsated underneath as all eyes fell on the major. But they always start off with a really easy question and Ingram came straight back with the correct answer as the jury breathed a sigh of relief and burst into applause. "Question number two: Are you guilty or not guilty of the charges brought against you?" At this point he didn't even go 50/50 or phone a friend, he just answered "Not guilty". Final answer? Asked the Judge. "Final answer," he confirmed.

Of course the key difference with this particular quiz show is that the longer the lawyers can string out the questions, the closer they get to earning themselves another million. On Wednesday the video of the entire show in question was actually played in court. When Chris Tarrant said "What is Butterscotch?" the judge was jumping up and down saying "Ooh I know this one, it's 'D'; Brittle toffee, it's definitely D!" and the lawyers felt obliged to applaud his honour's impressive display of general knowledge. Then came the next question; "For £2,000 pounds: In Coronation Street, who is Audrey's daughter?" and with all the jury nodding to each other about the correct answer, the judge lost patience and said: "Look, do we really have to watch this all the way through?"

The allegation is that this contestant won his million with the assistance of someone in the audience coughing at key moments to signal which choice was the correct answer. More worryingly it appears that this covert method of prompting the right response is spreading beyond mere entertainment shows. Over recent weeks our own prime minister has repeatedly been in the hot seat and forced to answer some very difficult questions on the subject of the impending war with Iraq. Allegations have now been made that at each stage, the PM was being assisted by a man called George Bush who was sitting in the audience coughing emphatically at crucial moments. Now the transcript of Who Wants To Be a Military Blair is published here for the first time.

"Prime Minister would you support a war against Iraq that did not have the backing of the United Nations?"

"Hmmm. I'm tempted to say that we must have UN support." Silence. Blair then appears unsure about this answer. "But then again, maybe we have a duty to support the Americans with or without the UN." A distinctive cough is heard from Mr Bush sitting in the third row. "Yes, yes, I think that's the right answer." Another loud cough. "Definitely, I'm sure of it now. I'm going to plump for support the Americans whatever."

As is traditional the questioning gets harder. "OK, now remember this question is worth billions of pounds in defence and reconstruction contracts for British companies. So for £10bn: 'Would you begin the bombing of Iraq before there has even been a second UN resolution or a vote in the House of Commons?'"

"Hmmm, not sure," says Blair, seemingly to deliberately consider his choices out loud. "Should we start bomb ing Iraq now?" Suddenly Mr Bush can be clearly heard coughing like a heavy smoker with bronchitis. One or two of the splutters even sound like a thinly disguised "yes!" "Actually, I think I do know this one," says the British PM. (There's no point in Tony asking the audience because he did that right at the beginning, they all voted against the war and he chose to disregard them.) "Yes, definitely! In fact the bombing has already started." It's confirmed that this is true and Tony leaps up and punches the air. "Congratulations! And here's your prize; an enormous blank cheque made out from you to the Americans ... Oh but before you leave, there's some gentlemen in the wings. They want to talk to you about breaking international law."