From Rising Sun by Jeffrey Archer

There, by the windows, I saw the familiar figure of Willy Wilhelm, known to everyone as Weasel Wilhelm. Willy’s narrow, ferretlike face was at this moment composed into a mask of smiling attentiveness as he joked with a blond girl sitting before a terminal.

Most organizations had a person like the Weasel: somebody who is more ambitious than scrupulous, somebody who finds a way to make himself useful to the powers that be, while being roundly hated by everyone else. That was the case with Weasel Wilhelm.

Like most dishonest people, the Weasel believed the worst about everybody. He could always be counted on to portray events in their most unflattering light, insisting that anything less was a cover-up. He had a nose for human weakness and a taste for melodrama. He cared nothing for the truth of any situation, and he considered a balanced appraisal weak. As far as the Weasel was concerned, the underlying truth was always strong stuff. And that was what he dealt with.

The other reporters at the Times despised him.

From Sinners by Jackie Collins

He stood and watched the car thread its way slowly back among the traffic. Foolish little girls. Was that really the only reason they went out with him? Did they honestly believe that he could be used to get them into the movies? How many times he had heard it now? How many different ways the direct approach: “Do you think you could get me a screen test?” the oblique hint: “I’ve always wanted to act.” The actress’s approach: “My agent says I’m perfect for the girl’s part in your next film.”

Lorna had warned him, laughed at him, scoffed. “Oh, yes, sure,” she had said, “you’ll have tons of little girls just lining up to jump into bed with you. But ask yourself, my darling, is it you they want? Or is it Charlie Brick?”

From Sinners by Jackie Collins

Charlie had first met her five years previously, when his career as a film actor was jogging along nicely and hers beginning to smoulder.

For the first time in a film, instead of being just a comedy actor, he had been given a romantic interest as well. Women everywhere began to like him. Letters started to pour in, and his career started to zoom. But at the same time it was the beginning of the end as far as Lorna and he were concerned.

The start of his affair with Michelle had changed his life a great deal. In the beginning he just couldn’t believe that a famous actress, probably the most famous European actress of that time, could possibly fancy him. But fancy him she had. Most of the arrangement had been maneuvered by her. She had a husband who conveniently stayed in Paris and appeared only occasionally.

“You are a wonderful man,” she used to purr at him.

No-one had ever said anything like that to him before. He had always felt inadequate, or, at the very most, average. But Michelle had changed all that: she made him feel like a king.

Of course his marriage suffered. He would return home from the studio later and later. At weekends, he would always say he had to work. In the end he hardly ever saw Lorna; they just happened to live under the same roof.

Occasionally they saw each other long enough for a brief exchange of insults. And so I went on, fight after fight, insult after insult, grudge after grudge, until one day things really came to a head.

His career continued to progress in the best possible way. He found himself in the enviable position of being able to pick and choose what films he would do. His notices were always the best. “Charlie Brick Shines Again”, “Brick Saves the Film”, “The Comic Genius of Charlie Brick.”

At last Lorna and he decided to move from their country home. The affair with Michelle had been more or less finished, due to the fact that they were both working in different countries, and meetings became impossible to arrange.