Chapter 54 In which Dr Pangloss suggests the Westphalia Express prints more 'feel good' stories

In between the rain showers one July morning the Mayor decided to stroll over and see his old friend the editor at the Westphalia Express. It wasn't just a social call, as Dr Pangloss had become increasingly alarmed by some of the stories he had been reading lately and was intent on berating the editor once more about the content of his newspaper.
"What happened to your promise to print positive stories?" demanded Dr Pangloss.
"I don't remember promising," said the editor. "We do our best, but you do make things difficult for us; sometimes it's hard to see where one cock-up ends and the next one begins."
"Well Mr Editor, I think many problems arise through the language you use. What you call 'cock-ups' I refer to as 'years of neglect inherited from past administrations', and I think if you started to use that phrase a little more you'd find things weren't quite so bad as you sometimes make out."
"Hmm, I'm not convinced. What about the half a million pounds in redundancy payments to council officers - we can't really put that in a very good light, can we?"
"Of course you can - it's a cost-cutting exercise. We'll save thousands."
"But why is everyone paid so much in the first place?"
"Because they've got top notch brains, that's why."
"So why are you getting rid of them?"
"Well that's obvious. The officers who have left were very good, but we probably need people with different qualities for the commissioners roles. We want to get the council working properly, and in that context half a million pounds is worth it to get the job right. "
"Different qualities? What does that mean? Does this mean these people are crap and overpaid, and haven't been doing their jobs properly?"
"Look, Mr Editor, I think we've spent long enough discussing this as it is. Now what I would like to see on your front page is something a bit more cheerful. You know, the sun is out, and everyone's having a lovely time on holiday."
"But it's been pissing with rain!"
"Not all the time - it was lovely at the weekend."
"That was two days. We've had record-breaking rainfall for the month."
"Oh, stop splitting hairs. I know - 'the sun is out and all the hotels are full'. There's your story."
"But they're not full. The new budget one is, but it's taking business away from the smaller hotels."
"Jesus Christ, you're supposed to be on my side. Look, just run the story and stick in a picture of a crowded beach at the seafront."
"Crowded beach? You'll be lucky. There's nowhere to park down there. Wreck Walk, parking restrictions, remember?"
"Well dig a photo out of the archives from the seventies and just airbrush out the old cars. Just give me one positive story. Please."
Just then there was a knock at the door, and the head of John Staedtler appeared.
"Can I have word, boss - in private?"
The editor excused himself and stepped outside. "What is it John?"
His deputy said nothing, but held up two postcards.
"From the blogger?"
"Yep. Numbers five and six. And he's started playing a little game, giving clues about his identity."
"Can you fit it into your next column?"
"It's a bit difficult. I'm planning a large piece about the Deputy Mayor and his weasel words over his next planned development on public space up at the Downs. I was toying with the headline 'Hatter suffering from Downs Syndrome'."
"Hmm, not sure he'd see the funny side of that. Can I see the postcards?"
Staedtler handed him the first one. The picture was of the beach in Westphalia-on-Sea which had been recently sold to property developer and millionaire Pierre De Saveloy. On the beach was a sign saying 'LOCALS - KEEP OUT'. The Editor turned the card over and read the rhyme on the reverse:


Six postcards now you have received
Some showing plans so ill-conceived
Fifteen more are yet to come
Then you will have all twenty-one.
(We did consider thirty-six,
And throwing nought into the mix.)

To solve the clues help is at hand –
Your readers, up and down the land.
So ask them now to join the fun
And ponder on those ‘twenty-one’.
The answer must be printed here
Or postcard seven won’t appear.

So hurry, print that cryptic clue
It really would be wise of you.
Our happy band as yet concealed
Through riddles solved will be revealed.
And do not spoil this treasure hunt
Or you will look like an old misery.

"Hmm, interesting," said the Editor. "So he wants you to print this stuff and solve the clues, does he? Let's see the other one." He turned the second postcard over and stared at it for a few moments. "So this is a clue is it? Well, it means nothing to me. You got any ideas?"

"Nothing's ringing any bells at the moment, boss. What do think, shall we print it? See if any of the readers can shed any light on it?"

"It's up to you John. I've got enough on my plate with him in there." The editor lowered his voice as he said this and nodded towards his office door. "I'll trust your judgement on this one."