Scoop-Evelyn-Waugh [29]
William and Corker went to the Press Bureau. Dr. Benito, the director, was away but his clerk entered their names in his ledger and gave them cards of identity. They were small orange documents, originally printed for the registration of prostitutes. The space for thumb-print was now filled with a passport photograph and at the head the word "journalist" substituted in neat Ishmaelite characters. "What sort of a bloke is this Benito?" Corker asked. "Creepy," said Pigge. They visited their Consulate, five miles out of town in the Legation compound. Here, too, they had to register and, in addition, buy a guinea stamp. The Vice-Consul was a young man with untidy ginger hair. When he took William's passport he stared and said, "By God, you're Beastly!" William said, "Moke!" These two had known each other at their private school. Corker was nonplussed. "What the hell are you doing here?" said the Vice-Consul. "I'm supposed to be a journalist." "God, how funny. Come to dinner." "Yes." "Tonight." "Yes." "Grand." Outside the door Corker said, "He might have asked me too. Just the kind of contact I can do with."
At lunchtime that day Shumble's story broke. Telegrams in Jacksonburg were delivered irregularly and rather capriciously, for none of the messengers could read. The usual method was to wait until half a dozen had accumulated and then send a messenger to hawk them about the most probable places until they were claimed. On precisely such an errand a bowed old warrior arrived in the dining-room of the Liberty and offered William and Corker a handful of envelopes. "Righto, old boy," said Corker, "I'll take charge of these." He handed the man a tip, was kissed on the knee in return, and proceeded to glance through the bag. "One for you, one for me, one for everyone in the bunch." William opened his. He read, "BADLY LEFT DISGUISED SOVIET AMBASSADOR RUSH FOLLOW BEAST. Will you please translate?" "Bad news, old boy. Look at mine: ECHO SPLASHING SECRET ARRIVAL RED AGENT FLASH INTERVIEW UNNATURAL. Let's see some more." He opened six before he was caught. All dealt with the same topic. The Twopence said: KINDLY INVESTIGATE AUTHENTICITY ALLEGED SPECIAL SOVIET DELEGATION STOP CABLE DEFERRED RATE. Jakes�s was the fullest: LONDON ECHO REPORTS RUSSIAN ENVOY ORGANIZER ARRIVED SATURDAY DISGUISED RAILWAY OFFICIAL STOP MOSCOW DENIES STOP DENY OR CONFIRM WITH DETAILS. Shumble's said WORLD SCOOP CONGRATULATIONS CONTINUE ECHO. "D'you see now?" said Corker. "I think so." "It's that nasty bit of work with the beard. I knew he was going to give us trouble." "But he is a railway employee. I saw him in the ticket office today when I went to ask about my luggage." "Of course he is. But what good does that do us? Shumble's put the story across. Now we've got to find a red agent or boil." "Or explain the mistake." "Risky, old boy, and unprofessional. It's the kind of thing you can do once or twice in a real emergency but it doesn't pay. They don't like printing denials � naturally. Shakes public confidence in the press. Besides it looks as if we weren't doing our job properly. It would be too easy if every time a chap got a scoop the rest of the bunch denied it. And I will hand it to Shumble, it was a pretty idea...the beard helped of course... might have thought of it myself if I hadn't been so angry." Other journalists were now crowding round claiming their radiograms. Corker surrendered them reluctantly. He had not had time to open Pigge's. "Here you are, old boy," he said. "I've been guarding it for you. Some of these chaps might want to see inside." "You don't say," said Pigge coldly. "Well, they're welcome." It was like all the rest:�
BOLSHEVIST MISSION REPORTED OVERTAKEN CONTROL RUSH FACTS
The hunt was up. No one had time for luncheon that day. They were combing the town for Russians. Wenlock Jakes alone retained his composure. He ate in peace and then summoned Paleologue. "We're killing this story," he said. "Go round to the Press Bureau and have Benito issue an official dementi before four o'clock. See it's posted in the hotel and in the wireless station. And put it about among the boys that the story's dead." He spoke gravely, for he hated to kill a good story. So the word went round. A notice was posted in French and English at all the chief European centres of the capital.