Nine Elms Lane
Edward St.Boniface
Author Bio
Edward St.Boniface, a crazy Canuck (Canadian) by birth emigrated to London many years ago as a young man with many naive intentions of finding his fortune. Always a fanatical bibliophile and scribeozoid and cinephile and Londonphiliac, he found the perfect place of abode. Over the years he learned to feed these various addictions to reading and writing and moviegoing and exploring the fearful megalopolis of London and make them into a more or less coherent ‘scene’ for himself. Ed spent decades having various misadventures and disasters and survival issues and minor successes and learing ‘The Knowledge’ of London life. As time went by the latent Scribeozoid in him developed into full Authorological Syndrome and he felt compelled to write feverishly of these experiences in ‘The London Trilogy’.’Riding House Street’ and ‘Nine Elms Lane’ and ‘King’s Scholar’s Passage To Vauxhall Bridge Road’ are all separately available as ebooks (with additional chapters in their electronic versions) and as a collected printed volume on AMAZON.
Description
Evel Tyler, feared rock reporter. Growing up poor in London’s working class district of Battersea, Evel gets a lucky break as an apprentice on tabloid newspaper The Daily Goblin and embarks on a nonstop ambitious career as a music journalist. Inventing a popular Indie gigs and reviews column, he takes London by storm. With the help of a gifted computer hacker Evel creates his own private empire of surveillance, espionage and crank calling intimidation to gather information in the pop music and celebrity worlds. Using blackmail and threats and exposure he carves out his career as a prominent celebrity correspondent in his own right whom it isn’t wise to cross. Despite his huge success, Evel is tortured by his complete failure to gain recognition as a serious writer. No matter how many attempts he makes to write intelligent and worthwhile novels he is savagely rejected and mocked. Despising his own nefarious methods, he is nevertheless so good at them he cannot do anything else and still keep his brilliantly successful place in the pop music biz. Mad with jealousy at a principled colleague, Evel finds himself drawn into unexpectedly becoming a conscience himself.
Book excerpt
CHAPTER ONE: A LITTLE BIT OF FALSE WITNESS…
‘Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy neighbour.’
Ninth commandment given to the Israelites by Moses returning from Mount Sinai in the Book of Exodus, 20:16, King James Version.
TRANSCRIPT OF RECOVERED TELEPHONE DIALOGUE RECORDED FROM 18:11 ON OCTOBER 13, 1989, PRIVATE PROVIDER ARIEL COMMUNICATIONS MOBILE UNIT TO ET LANDLINE DOMESTIC CONNECTION. CALLER AND RECIPIENT UNIDENTIFIED. CALL UNREPORTED TO POLICE AUTHORITIES, ENGLISH TELECOM PLC OR ARIEL COMMUNICATIONS.
RECOVERY PROTOCOL AND TRANSCRIPT EXECUTED BY: OPHELIA CELESTE DUMNATOWICZ, 02.10.98.
UNKNOWN YOUNG MALE RECIPIENT (picking up receiver): “Hello, 718 2060.”
CRANK CALLER: “Hello, 718 2060. We know who you are.”
(Unknown Recipient suddenly drops phone, distorting line momentarily)
CC: “Jesus, why do you always do that. Rub some goddam powder on your hands or something.”
(Line interference)
UYMR: “What did you say there? So sorry about that, I can’t seem to stop dropping the phone, ha, ha, ha. They always complain in the newsroom where I work. Did you want my Dad? I don’t actually live here anymore, I’m just here for dinner. People say I sound a lot like my Dad these days.”
CC (Indistinguishable sounds): “What did you say about…never mind. No. I definitely don’t want your Dad. Listen…”
UYMR: “Is this the newsroom? Jackie, is that you? Has something come down the AP line about the Strangeways situation? Or is it the parts for that huge gun the customs stopped at Middlesbrough? Rumours are its some doomsday weapon ordered by Saddam Hussein’s regime. I’m ready to go on either story. Already have the preliminary background material written down and ready for the updates. Have Archie and Wallace made the weekly assignments yet for the PolBus bureau?”
CC: “…(deleted) me. Nothing has come down the Associated Press line. This is not Jack Bradnam. Now listen up! To resume, we know who you are.”
UYMR: “Could you speak up, please? You sound a bit hoarse there. Drink some water or something.”
(Unidentified music, hard rock or heavy metal, starts in background)
CC: “This is the sound of your approaching ultimate and absolutely incontrovertibly inescapable total utter doom.”
UYMR: “Are you calling from a club or a concert or something? Is this Eloise? Ellie, you know you’re underage and not supposed to go down to illegal raves. I’ll cover for you this time, but…”
CC: “(deleted)ing hell! For the last time, this is not Jackie or Ellie or anyone else you know or think you know. Will you (deleted) listen to what you’re being told here. Judgement has been imposed and levelled and commanded upon you and there is no possible escape. It is total and utter and incontrovertibly decided.”
UYMR: “You’re not Jackie or Ellie? Oh, sorry, how embarrassing. That’s not you is it, Angela? Have you got that nasty ‘flu again? Your voice sounds really gravely. I’m really sorry darling, this job just seems to take up more and more of my time. There’s always some new flap going down. I meant to call you about missing dinner with you and your parents Sunday night, but…”
CC (Strangled noises): “Will you (deleted)ing shut the (removed-censored) up! We are calling to warn you of the judgement and for your own good you had better listen good. Because this will be your only warning!”
(Pause)
UYMR: “Why, what’s wrong? Could you turn the music down, by the way? It sounds like you’ve got a speaker really close up to the phone and it’s buzzing like anything. I can barely make out what you’re saying.”
CC: “You are in great danger and the danger is growing. It is danger without measurement. As long as you remain…”
UYMR: “Could you hang on for a second? I just heard the bell on the microwave go and I don’t want to leave that ravioli in there.”
(Sound of receiver being set down and footsteps receding on linoleum)
CC: “(Indistinguishable) ravioli?”
(Footsteps return, phone receiver picked up again)
UYMR: “Sorry about that but if you leave those things uncovered after cooking they get mucky pretty fast. I hate slimy food. Actually I hate microwave food altogether. By the way, I don’t think I got your name, was it Doone or something?”
CC: “This is doom. Your irrevocable incontrovertible absolute utter doom.”
UYMR: “My what?”
Author Website
http://www.freewebs.com/BULTITUDED/LondonTrilogyMicrositeEvelTylerPage1.html
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Nine Elms Lane