The media mogul's troubles took a bizarre turn for the worse yesterday when his own privacy was compromised by the arrival of what could only be described as a 'sinister presence' that refuses to leave.
"I was polishing my dome in the study," confirmed the magnate, "when this inexplicable draught came from under the door, followed by unearthly moaning. I thought at first it might have been Rebekah, straining off the effects of prison stodge in the en suite, but then a disembodied wail pierced the gloom, followed by a ghoulish stream of rhetoric that somehow said nothing at all despite using lots of words. Then it went quiet for a while and I thought I heard muffled dialling, followed by an eerie whisper of 'what should I say now, Ed?' That was when I really became spooked, and fled the room in terror. As I did so, the words "Where you're going, grandad, you won't need phones..' echoed after me, on a tremulous note. Ever since then I've barely managed an hour's kip."
Last night Andy Coulson denied any involvement as the increasingly bitter media scandal escalated into new and more macabre territory. "Oddly enough I can recall being aroused by a sinister presence in the wee small hours, but I just mumbled 'not tonight, David' and went back to sleep."
After reportedly being rebuffed by Peter Venkman, Murdoch was yesterday locked in desperate talks with landlord 'Harold Meaker', in a bid to reopen the offices of 70s sleuth spirits Rentaghost. "They are extraordinary fellers," he confirmed in a press statement. "And clearly money is no object. I just need this translucent apparition out my life."