Description
Fleet Street doesn’t always have the sweetest of savours, and the Evening Record was neither better nor worse than its competitors when it came to generating a stench. Lord Hurstway, its proprietor, believed in banner headlines, expose stories, and plenty of the right sort of pix.
So when two reporters were accidentally killed in pursuit of such stories, there was inevitable speculation that the deaths might have been less than accidental, although the only link was the coincidence that both men were victims of marital disharmony. Further ‘accidents’ in the newsroom underlined the fact that the Record’s staff were in danger. Paige, deputy managing editor, was increasingly worried, especially about the alluring May, one of the most up-andthrusting of his team and married to the paper’s finance editor, though Paige had every hope of supplanting him. May had just uncovered a scandal in connection with a health farm frequented by Society beauties, but before it could break in print, Lord Hurstway took an unaccountable step which effectively killed it. And it wasn’t only the story that was killed.
Against a background of teleprinters, telephones, typewriters, all the bustle of a London evening paper, Marian Babson spins a suspenseful, original and ironic story.
