They had a glimpse of Regent’s Park on their right.
‘They killed them off the day before things were closed down. They brought the carcases of everything that was edible into the Pale.’
‘Who decided what was edible?’
Chisholm laughed. ‘That’s a point, isn’t it? Standards are changing fast now. I suppose there will be a few chewing rattlesnake and porcupine – raw as like as not.’
His brash insensitivity was probably enviable. In any case, for the job he was doing, it was essential. Andrew saw one of the photographers focus on a body that lay huddled in the gutter and swing the camera round to hold it as they drove past. It was the luxuries of illusion and self-deception that were enviable: there had never been a sensitive butcher, and very few vegetarians who did not wear leather shoes.