For his part, Boothby was on dangerous ground, and not just by playing masochistic sex games in the company of the seriously scary Ronnie Kray. As an instantly recognisable public figure, he must have known that his blatant presence in the company of criminals would be noticed.
But Boothby was so conceited that he thought no one in authority would dare to do anything about it.
His emergence as a radio and TV personality was a late-life boost to his ego.
At private flats and houses he would arrange sex shows, starting with blue movies and moving onto performances specially tailored to the tastes of those he wanted to impress.
Boothby's particular perversions - too shocking to describe in a newspaper even now - were met in full. He enjoyed the sense of power he got from indulging powerful politicians like Driberg and Boothby.
The key figure in this scandal was Bob Boothby, an outrageous old scoundrel but probably the most popular political celebrity of his day.
He had a chequered career as a Tory MP for 34 years and was then ennobled to the House of Lords, despite his reputation for accepting money in return for political favours.
'Well, look who's 'ere,' Cornell just had time to sneer before Ron lifted a Luger pistol and, at point-blank range, put a bullet into his forehead.