Hand from the Void

Начало книги

Jeff Rayden had picked up the latest copy of Crux at the airline terminal. As the airport tilted and fled off behind the big liner and as the motor sounds altered, he unfastened the safety belt and opened the magazine, holding it so that Julie O’Reilly beside him could see the pages. He found what he wanted on pages sixteen through nineteen.

It was typical Rayden and O’Reilly. The pictures and text fitted together like a hand in a glove. The assignment had been a small-fry political thief named Schonderhauzen.

They had covered his home life, his official life and his amusements. The coverage was wry, tolerant, skeptical and amused. It did not damn Mr. Schonderhauzen, but it very neatly booted him out of public life.

“Number sixty-nine,” Julie said in her gamin’s voice, huskiness like a streak of rust along a gleaming wire.

“That many! Deliver me from the statistical mind.”

“Crux,” she said primly, “owes a large part of its two and a half million circulation to the deft dismembering of major and minor public figures by those two cynical whiz-kids of modern journalismБ"

Читать дальше →