Black and White and Dead All Over: A Midlife Crisis Mystery (Midlife Crisis Mysteries)

by Marlo Hollinger

  Fritz waved an impatient hand in the air. “My bad. I would be your Deep Throat. How does that sound?”

  “Definitely intriguing,” I assured him. “A little scary but intriguing for sure.”

  “Mom,” Jane said softly, “are you sure about this? I mean, we’re talking about a major story and you’re still wet behind the ears.”

  “Your mother strikes me as a bright woman,” Fritz announced. “I’m sure that she’ll do a swell job. I also suspect that by the time we reach the end of this story, she will no longer be wet behind the ears and I assure you that I will do nothing that might endanger her life.”

  Jane still looked doubtful. “It’s just that she’s never really done anything,” Jane explained. “She’s just, you know, a mom.”

  “Jane, my dear, mothers are the people who keep the world moving. Didn’t you know that? If you’re unaware of how much your mother has done for you and your father and your family for all these years, then I guarantee you that she’ll be ideal for sharing my story with the press. Unobtrusive people are almost always the smartest people of all.” I watched as Fritz’s lips thinned. “This isn’t right and it isn’t fair and it isn’t going to happen. ‘Fat Off’ is mine. The time has come to pay back our employer for at least some of the pain that he has caused the rest of us.” Gone was the attractive scientist and in his place was something a little more menacing. Glancing over at Jane, I saw that she caught the change in Fritz also.

  “I need to think about what I want to tell you,” Fritz said. “We need to tread very carefully because we don’t want any legal entanglements. Agreed?”

  “Absolutely,” I assured him. The last thing I wanted was any legal entanglements of any kind.

  “Mom, are you sure you want to do this?” Jane asked sounding a little nervous.

  “Of course I do!” I knew that with Fritz’s help I was going to land a story that would knock the socks off of everyone down at the paper. Although I had the feeling that Fritz might be using me as a pawn for his own agenda, I didn’t care.

  “Good,” Fritz said and for a second I thought I saw an odd glint behind his eyes. “Then it’s agreed,” Fritz said. “The owner of Kutrate Kemicals, Bernard Thornton, is now known as our enemy and what does one do when confronted by the enemy?”

  Jane and I exchanged nervous glances. “What?” I asked.

  “Why, one annihilates him. And we’re going to help each other do just that.”

  “Mom, I don’t know about this,” Jane said as she walked me out to my car. “Fritz seems to be working on a vendetta with a capital V. The whole thing seems way too big for you to work on. I don’t want you to get into trouble.”

  “Honey, what kind of trouble could I possibly get into? You’re the one I’m worried about. If it comes out that you’re my daughter after I write the story, it won’t take a genius to figure out the connection between the two of us.”

  “If what Fritz is saying is the truth, that shouldn’t matter. The board of directors would have to get rid of Bernard Thornton and then what would it matter?”

  “Whistle blowers seldom get to keep their jobs,” I reminded her.

  “If Kutrate Kemicals is doing something totally illegal then I don’t want to work here. And if Fritz really wants you to write about ‘Fat Off,’ then I guess it will be okay. You just need to be careful.”

  “Of course, I will be careful,” I said before climbing into my car. “I’m the mom who made you wear lifejackets when you went into the wading pool, remember? I’m always cautious.” I paused. “Fritz seems like a very dedicated person.”

  “He is,” Jane assured me. “He’s also not married. I checked.”

  “So you’re thinking of dating him?”

  Jane shrugged. “I’m thinking about it. Other than his vengeful streak, he seems like an interesting guy.”

  I laughed. “Thanks for introducing me to Fritz, honey. I’ll see you later.”

  “Be sure to tell Dad everything you’re up to,” Jane called after me as I began to back out of my parking spot. “He needs to be kept apprised of what’s going on!”

  Shaking my head, I waved at my worrywart daughter and drove away, my mind spinning with ideas of how to write my feature on ‘Fat Off,’ the weight loss in a spray. Once I got the green light, that is.

  Chapter Eight

  The next morning, after vacuuming the newsroom, making fresh coffee and wiping down the refrigerator in the break room, I was hunkered in front of my computer, scrolling through diets again while I waited for my next assignment. Really, I thought as I read yet another movie star’s tips on losing those annoying last ten pounds, if I could come up with a diet that worked, Steve’s and my retirement fund would be positively overflowing.

  “What is the matter with you people?” Kate’s squeaky voice interrupted my research. Looking up, I watched as she stormed into the newsroom, her small eyes looking even smaller behind her enormous glasses, circa 1984 and covered with so many smudgy fingerprints that I didn’t see how she could possibly see out of them.

  “What now?” Ren muttered next to me as he leaned back in his chair to watch our boss too.

  “I want to see some initiative! I want to see some creativity! Some drive!”

  Caroline was the first one to speak up. “What’s the matter, Kate?”

  Kate whirled around and lunged at her, pushing her tiny little face up next to Caroline’s like a kid looking in a toy store window. “What’s the matter? The matter, Miss Osborn, is that we are putting out a daily newspaper that stinks! There is absolutely no local content in it or am I the only one who’s noticed that?”

  Initiative, creativity and drive were all things I wanted to display but it seemed to me that every time I—or any of the other reporters—tried, we were shot down in flames. “What kind of local coverage do you want?” Ren asked mildly.

  Kate hit herself dramatically in the head. “That you would even have to ask that tells me how far I have to go to turn this paper around.”

  I decided to speak up. “So you want us to go out and find our own stories?”

  Big sigh. “Yes, DeeDee, that is precisely what I want you to do.”

  “But I thought all of our assignments were supposed to come from Jeff or from you.”

  “And I’m telling you to figure a few things out on your own. Jeff and I aren’t your mommy and daddy.”

  “Thank God for that,” Ren muttered.

  “Go out into the community and do some digging! Don’t just sit on your butts waiting for assignments.” She turned and gave me the stink eye. “Just make sure you don’t take all day to do it.”

  I thought about my potentially enormous story at Kutrate Kemicals and smiled a tad smugly at Kate. Wouldn’t she be surprised when I presented her with the story on ‘Fat Off’? “I’ll do my best,” I assured her.

  Kate laughed like a barking seal. “You’ll have to do far better than that. Do you have any assignments for today?”

  “Um, not really.”

  Kate looked pained. “That isn’t an answer. ‘Yes’ or ‘no’ is an answer. ‘Not really’ is vague and inconclusive. Is it necessary for me to edit your speech as well as your copy?”

  “No,” I said clearly. “I don’t have an assignment for today.”

  “Then find one and run it past me for my okay!” she snapped. Looking past me, Kate spotted Ren and her eyes narrowed. “And you, mister,” she barked, “I’ve been looking for you. We have a few matters to discuss. Pronto.”

  I looked over at Ren. He had slumped down until he was sitting on his tailbone with only the top of his head showing over the edge of his desk. “Oh?” he asked politely.

  “Did you have a chance to check out the toilet yet?”

  “Not yet,” Ren said. I could see that his jaw was clenched so tightly that it looked as if he might break off a molar or two at any moment.

  “You know it’s your job to do any extra plumbing jobs around the building,” Kate practicall
y trilled. “That toilet has been clogged all morning long. What am I supposed to do? Walk down to the gas station every time I have to tinkle?”

  I could hardly believe my ears. Ren had to do plumbing in addition to writing stories and editing an entire section of the newspaper?

  “I said I’d get to it,” Ren sort of hissed. “I’ve been a little busy putting out my section of the newspaper.”

  Kate used the super slow voice on Ren that she so often used on me. “It’s called multi-tasking,” she told him. “I think a bright boy like you can handle it. We expect our employees to be multi-faceted.”

  Multifaceted was one thing. Slave labor was something else. After glaring at her, Ren turned away and buried his head in the mountain of papers on his desk. Apparently satisfied, Kate looked over at the rest of us. “Now get to it,” she snapped. “I want to see at least one new story idea from each and everyone one of you and I want to see it today!” Kate turned on one of her worn heels and walked swiftly out of the newsroom.

  I waited until she was safely back in her office before I spoke. “Uh, Ren?”

  “What?” he growled and then caught himself. “Sorry, DeeDee, but that woman always puts me in an instant bad mood. What is it?”

  “Do you really have to take care of the plumbing around here?”

  “Yep.”

  “That’s honestly on your job description? How is that possible? You’re a journalist, not a plumber.” I was unconsciously echoing what Caroline had said to me on my first day when she’d caught me cleaning out the coffee pot, but in Ren’s case, I could see her point. He’d gone to journalism school for heaven’s sake. Why on earth would he have to handle plugged up toilets too?

  “No kidding although I wish I was a plumber. As a professional plumber, I’d be doing one hell of a sight better than I’m doing here. I might even be able to retire before I die.”

  I felt sorry for Ren. Although he was only in his early thirties, he had the exhausted air of someone in their late sixties. “Doesn’t the paper have a maintenance person?”

  “Nope.” Ren glanced around to see if anyone was within eavesdropping distance but everyone else was hunched over in their cubicles too, presumably searching for some local story that would satisfy our boss. “A few years back, management decided to scale down on costs so they canned the janitor and the building superintendent and farmed their work out to the rest of us. I’m stuck with making sure all of the plumbing is in working order, Caroline’s in charge of the boiler, Frank has recycling duties and Bob has to take care of all the computer stuff.”

  “But Caroline told me not to clean the coffee pot!” I said, remembering how irate Caroline had been when we first met. “She said it wasn’t our job.”

  “I’m not sure why she said that because everything is our job. You know that line that management always tacks on to a job description? ‘Other duties as assigned’? Well, the Kemper Times takes a little bit of advantage of that line. Make that a whole lot of advantage. They’ve got us all over a barrel and they know it. Worse, I honestly think that they enjoy it.”

  “That’s terrible. Does management do extra things too?” I tried to picture Jeff taking out the garbage or Kate sweeping the bathroom when I remembered something Bob had said on my first day about the cleaning people working on Sundays. “Bob Meredith said there were cleaning people who come in on Sundays.”

  “That would be Natalie, our customer service representative, and her son,” Ren said. “And no, management doesn’t take on any extra duties. Rank has its privileges, in case you hadn’t heard that yet.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  Ren looked at me with something close to pity in his tired eyes. “Have you seen your job description yet, DeeDee?”

  Actually, I hadn’t even thought to ask to see it. “No…”

  “If I were you, I’d ask to see it and when you do I suggest that you read it very carefully. That woman has a way of slipping things in that you’d never dream could be part of your job.”

  “Kate does job descriptions? I thought Human Resources would take care of that.”

  “Kate is Human Resources.”

  “But she didn’t interview me—Jeff did.”

  “They take turns interviewing people, not that we’ve had many new hires lately. You’re the only person who’s been hired in I don’t know how long. I keep telling myself that I’m lucky to have a job and once in a while I can get myself to believe it but those moments are coming fewer and further between. I’m hoping that if I stay here for another year or two, I’ll be able to land something in a bigger market. If I can stand it that long,” he added.

  “I hope you do find something else.” Ren seemed like a truly nice guy and I hated to see him look so miserable. I didn’t want to see anybody look so miserable.

  “I do too. I just hope that I can get away from here without killing anyone first.” He sighed and pushed his chair back from his desk. “I’d better go find the plunger and take care of that clogged toilet before Kate has to tinkle again. That woman needs to cut down on her coffee intake. She uses the bathroom more than anyone else on the paper.”

  “I’d better get going too.”

  “You have an idea for a story?”

  “I think so,” I said, thinking about Fritz and his amazing fat loss spray. “It could be big.”

  Ren looked at me a little pityingly. “I remember when I used to be excited about starting a new story,” he remarked a touch wistfully. “Have fun and remember what I said: ask for your job description and read it very carefully.”

  “I’ll do that,” I promised. Leaving Ren, I grabbed my purse and headed for the newsroom door, anxious to get out into the fresh air. Everyone who worked at the Kemper Times seemed so unhappy and discontented that it was starting to make me feel like I was suffocating. It had been more than thrilling to see my interview with Meryl Cunningham in the paper but I was beginning to think that a fleeting moment or two of egomania wasn’t worth working for someone like Kate.

  “How the hell am I supposed to come up with a story?” I heard Caroline say to Frank as I walked past.

  “Sucks to be you,” Frank responded. “I already have a story. I heard the head hockey coach over at the college is jumping ship if he doesn’t get a raise. I’m going to cover that one.”

  “No one cares about hockey coaches,” Caroline informed him.

  “They care more about hockey coaches than anything you could come up with,” Frank responded. I hurried out of the newsroom before I could hear Caroline’s answer.

  In the lobby I paused to talk to Natalie. Out of everyone I’d met at the paper, Natalie seemed to be the happiest but that was most likely due to the fact that she worked by herself and didn’t have to interact with Kate too often. Then again, Kate did seem a little obsessed with Natalie’s bathroom breaks and the amount of time that she spent away from her desk so perhaps Kate’s micromanaging tentacles stretched all the way down to the newspaper’s sole customer service rep/receptionist/weekend cleaning person too. “Hi, Natalie,” I said when I reached her desk,

  Natalie looked up from her computer screen, her dark eyes shining. “Well, hi there, DeeDee! How are you on this beautiful day?”

  “Not bad,” I told her and it was the truth. I already felt better now that I was out of the newsroom.

  “How are things upstairs? Exciting as always?” Natalie was a very pretty woman who looked a lot like a young Diana Ross. In addition to being attractive, Natalie also displayed an enthusiasm for her job that far outshone that of any of the reporters.

  “Hmmm…well, I don’t know that I’d call it exciting.” Nerve wracking, exhausting and frustrating might be better adjectives to describe the third floor of the paper. “How do you like working at the newspaper?”

  “I love it. I don’t know what it is but I have journalism in my blood. I can’t write worth a darn so I know I can’t be a reporter, but I have to work for a paper. It’s the only job I’ve ever really w
anted. I think it’s the most exciting place to work, even a small paper like this one.”

  Natalie had a great attitude and just talking to her cheered me up. “That’s good to hear. Most of the people upstairs seem pretty down.”

  Natalie laughed. “Understandable. You guys are all crammed into one room with barely room to breathe. And then there are the other people up there––” Natalie broke off, her eyes darting upward and I assumed she remembered about the microphone. It was like something out of the Cold War. “Never mind,” she said.

  “Well, I should be going. I’ll see you later.”

  “Have a wonderful day, DeeDee.”

  After leaving the building, I climbed into my mini-van and sighed as I thought about how I’d really believed that I’d be able to inject some sweetness and light into the newsroom when I’d first started there all of four days earlier. What a dope I’d been. Mary Poppins wouldn’t be able to inject any sweetness and light into that newsroom. The air was so thick with toxic feelings like anger, frustration and resentment that the whole building probably needed a priest to come and exorcise all the evil spirits.

  I’ll give it three months. Then we’ll see.

  A lot could happen in three months such as winning the lottery or hitting the jackpot in the Publishers Clearing House sweepstakes. Or writing a news story that would knock Kate and everyone else on their collective ear, land me a byline and secure me a job at the Kemper Times that would last me the rest of my life, if that was what I wanted. At that moment, I wasn’t at all sure of what I wanted. Sighing one more time, I put the car into gear and steered toward Kutrate Kemicals. Time to see what I could get out of Fritz and maybe get him to agree to let me write something about his fabulous creation.

  “DeeDee, how lovely to see you again.” Fritz was all smiles when he ushered me into his lab twenty minutes later.

  “Thank you for letting me drop in like this. I wanted to chat with you a little more about your product.” I also wanted to ask him when I could write about ‘Fat Off’ but I knew that I was going to have to be a little patient.