For some, the Express proprietor can do no right: he's a rude upstart who made his money publishing low-grade erotica. But newpapers are the roughest of businesses and maybe in their tabloid pages he has found his true home. Alex Benady reports.
Every morning, Richard Clive Desmond leaves his lovely home just off The Bishops Avenue - 'millionaires' row', as it is known to the locals.
It's the brash end of London's expensive Hampstead Garden Suburb, favoured by Eurotrash business tycoons and minor Arab royalty. Sometimes he takes the Ferrari, but he usually climbs into the back of his chauffeur-driven Bentley turbo, registration number RCD1, for the six-mile journey across London to the offices of Express Newspapers, the newspaper group he bought just three years ago.