Seven Steps to Murder

And I know many things, for I walk by night. I know many strange tales, hidden in the hearts of men and women who have stepped into the shadows. Yes, I know the nameless terrors of which they dare not speak.

Tonight, transcribed, it's the Whistler Strange Story. Seven steps to murder. Payton Affair was unusual for two reasons. In the first place, of course, it involved a pair of famous newspaper men. Archer Atkins, the dean of New York drama critics, had ever at Clayton's indicated columns.

But more than that, it was interesting in its structure. Yes, there were seven distinct steps between an apparently cordial relationship and a murder. The opening night of Clayton's first play of the whirlwind was Step Number One.

Atkins had attended, of course, with the rest of the critics. And shortly after the final curtain, had walked across the street to the offices of the New York globe with merchants and his editor to meet the newspapers deadline.

Oh, Everett Clayton's new play, The Whirl Wind, opened last night at the Brighton Theatre with Diana Brooks and Paul Strand in leading roles. Finish it, Atkins. Oh, Oh, well, what's this? I want to see what you did to Clayton's play.

I thought it was great. Oh, did you? Here's what I thought. Where Clayton's new play, the whirlwind, is dullness itself. It was utterly lacking in originality, imagination, or even ordinary playability. The death rattle was audible before the first act was five minutes old.

Blessin' Atkins, you can't. Boy, can't I? You grew up together. You came from Texas together. You were even engaged to his sister. He's your best friend. Art knows no friendship. You're a liar. You're jealous because Clayton's invading the drama.