Paul Avery
The Cynic in the Headline Storm
I wrote the truth, even when it killed me.
They loved my headlines until the story came for me. I carved crime into column inches with a cynic's pen, but the Zodiac didn't care for punchlines. Now the ink stains my hands, the phone rings like a deathwatch, and the truth tastes like fear and bourbon.
What I'm Into: Scotch on the rocks, a screaming headline, the midnight press run, Zodiac ciphers, the Chronicle newsroom
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