Free Publish and Be Murdered by Ruth Dudley Edwards Page A

really crucial problem yet,’ said the baroness.
    ‘What’s that?’ asked Pooley.
    ‘Willie Crump’s lack of intellectual rigour.’
    ‘Jesus, Jack. That isn’t part of my job description.’
    ‘Well, you must make it so.’
    ‘You should talk to Henry Potbury. He goes on about that a lot.’
    ‘He’s right. The Wrangler is too valuable to be allowed to coast. That young whatshisname
    ‘Dwight Winterton?’
    ‘Yes. He’s OK. And Potbury when he’s good is good. But I’m worried that there’s a loss of direction. If you ask me, Willie Crump’s sucking up to New Labour.’
    ‘You might be right. He’s been shifting ground. There have been a lot of fights about that.’
    ‘Willie isn’t going to stay in the wilderness for perhaps ten years. Courtiers need courts. And I’ll bet Willie Crump wants a peerage.’
    ‘Hadn’t thought of that, Jack. You could just be right.’
    ‘What’s the circulation of The Wrangler anyway?’ asked Pooley.
    ‘Only about thirty thousand. I want to have a modest advertising campaign but Willie thinks that would be vulgar. “We speak to the crème de la crème” he explained. “We have no need of the rest.” As indeed he doesn’t, while Papworth foots the bill. But I have no remit to do anything about this. Henry’s doing what he can to work on him.’
    ‘I know Henry Potbury,’ said the baroness. ‘Knew him well at one time. Had a bit of a fling, indeed. He’ll never be able to do anything now. Past it. So you’ll have to.’
    ‘I can’t.’
    ‘Then I may have to myself. Someone has to challenge this bloody government.’
    ‘Don’t you dare get involved.’
    ‘Try stopping me,’ said the baroness.
     
    ‘Disaffected.’
    ‘What?’ said Pooley, who was nervously watching the road. ‘Who? Which?’
    ‘Rachel. Didn’t you notice?’
    ‘No.’ Pooley winced as the baroness accelerated through a changing traffic light. ‘I think everything’s going terribly well for them both. It’s very encouraging that Robert’s got a real job and is taking it seriously and Rachel’s doing so well…’
    ‘Ellis Pooley, are you blind or just so crazed with lust for Mary Lou Denslow that you can’t see what’s happening to our friends?’
    ‘Well, what do you think is happening?’
    ‘Rachel’s become too serious for him. You mark my words, she wants somebody who’s going to make a name for himself and forge a brilliant career and all those other things. She doesn’t want a drifter.’
    ‘He’s not drifting any more. Surely that’s the point. He’s enjoying sorting out this mad disorder…’
    ‘And will be bored when order’s been restored; then he’ll want to move on.’
    ‘But surely he’ll be able to get a much bigger job then? Can’t he progress to managing something much more important?’
    ‘He won’t be interested in that, Ellis. If all he wanted was a sensible challenging job with career prospects he would have gone back into the civil service ages ago.’ The tyres screeched as she cornered sharply. Pooley pretended not to notice.
    ‘The fact is that he’s developed a taste for the bizarre and the macabre and by now is about as inclined towards a steady career as was Phillip Marlowe. The best hope is that fans of his like me and Charlie Papworth and Bertie Ormerod keep spreading the word and finding him a never-ending supply of disaster zones to home in on.’
    ‘You’ve worried me, Jack. You’ve really worried me. I was hopeful.’
    ‘For heaven’s sake, Ellis, why do you want Robert to turn into everybody else? I’ve always known this about him. He grumbles about his life and deludes himself he wants to live sensibly, but he’s always going to want adventure. And that doesn’t suit Rachel. Her patience is already wearing thin.’
    ‘I hope you’re wrong. I want Robert to be settled and happy.’
    ‘I want him to be interested,’ said the baroness. ‘That’s what makes him happy. And as for you’ – she turned and