SOMETHING SUBTLE
By
Judith Post

They found poor Norm slumped over his terminal, his lips chalk-colored, his neck and face greenish-red. He didn't smell too good, either. He clutched the mouse of his computer in a rigid, tight fist.

"Dead as a door nail," Chaz Pickering proclaimed, "and he's been that way a while."

"But how did he get here?" Joshua Kendall asked. "The doors didn't open till eight this morning, and we were all waiting outside."

Jackie Sorensen glanced at Norm's computer screen. "The last transaction was dated late Saturday night. I don't think he ever left the office."

"All weekend?" Chaz asked.

"No way." Josh shook his head. "I saw him get his briefcase and leave Friday at five o'clock."

"Maybe the office, but did he leave the building?" Chaz demanded.

"The building? Why wouldn't he? He had on his long, winter coat and gloves." Josh glanced at the black, wool coat flung over Norm's filing cabinet.

"It was a trick," Jackie said, "so the rest of us wouldn't know he was going to pull a weekender."

"That's pretty damn dirty," Chaz said.

"I bet he hid in the bathroom till we all left," Jackie persisted, "then snuck back."

"Wish my wife would let me pull a weekend gig," Chaz said.

Jackie frowned at Norm's wrinkled shirt and pants. "He must have stayed in there a couple hours. I didn't leave until seven when my date came to pick me up, and I never saw him."

"I thought you said you were leaving just as soon as you redid your make-up, that you had a date," Chaz said.

"I did have a date, but instead of going home to get ready, I stayed here."

"You told me...."

Jackie interrupted. "I changed my mind. After you left, I called Tim and had him meet me here."

"Why, you conniving, little....."

Josh interrupted. "Hey, Norm's dead, and all you two can do is argue. Get a grip, guys.”

Chaz swallowed hard, glancing at Norm's screen. "Looks like old Norm got a big account before he died."

They all turned to look.

"Too bad we already reported finding him," Jackie said.

Josh gave a low whistle. "Poor guy, he'd have won the contest. And the boss isn't going to give his accounts to anyone else. We'll have to get our own."

"He might have gotten ahead of us," Jackie argued, "but that doesn't mean he'd have won."

Chaz pushed a button on Norm's machine, and new ledgers sprang to view. "Hot shit! He'd done it, man. He'd hit the three million dollar mark. He'd have won the trip for two to Hawaii and fifteen per cent of the sales."

"AND the promotion to VP," Jackie added.

"He couldn't have," Josh said. "None of us had passed the one million mark on Thursday. No one can sell two million in two days."

"Read it and weep. Norm did." Chaz pointed to the numbers. "And there's the accounts to prove it." The screen shimmered with one customer after another.

"Poor sap, all that work, and he can't enjoy it," Josh said.

"But someone has to take over those accounts, right?" Jackie asked.

"Yeah, probably whoever makes VP," Josh said. "And you know the Boss. Now that the stakes are higher, he'll probably up the ante on the contest."

"He'll say, 'You never get something for nothing,'" Chaz mimicked.

"That's not fair," Jackie protested.

"Since when was the Boss fair?" Chaz asked.

"He'll claim we'll get more, so we should do more," Josh said.

Footsteps rang in the hallway. The office door opened and their boss and a detective entered the telemarketing room. Donald Blane glanced at Norm and snapped, "Has anyone downloaded the accounts on his computer? Damn lucky we didn't lose them the way he fell. He could have wiped everything off the screen."

The cop's right eyebrow rose. "No one touches anything until the scene of crime people have been here and gone. I'm Detective Monroe. Which one of you was the one who found the body?" He looked at the three workers huddled around Norm's desk.

"We all found him," Josh said.

"All together?" He sounded skeptical.

"We all walked in at the same time."

"Does that happen often?" he asked.

Josh explained about the contest and it's prizes.

"So this guy stayed all weekend to get ahead, and none of you did?"

Chaz said, "Norm pretended to leave on Friday, put his coat on and got his briefcase and walked out of the office."

"You guys are pretty serious about promotions around here," Monroe said.

"There aren't that many." Jackie shot a look at the boss.

"So why now?" Monroe asked. "Did someone retire?"

"No, Blane fired Tarcher," Chaz said.

"When?"

"Two weeks ago."

Monroe turned to Blane. "You didn't tell me about that. A disgruntled ex-employee is always worth mentioning. Care to now?"

Blane scowled at Chaz. "He'd lost his spark, his drive. He wasn't keeping up anymore."

"How long had he worked here?" the detective asked.

"Nineteen years."

The detective stopped writing and looked up. "Nineteen years? Was he well-liked?"

"He and Norm were close friends."

"And how long had Norm worked for you?"

"Seventeen years."

"But he was still a top performer?" Monroe asked.

Blane looked down at his shiny, black shoes, avoiding the detective's eyes. "He'd been slipping lately. We had a talk."

"You were going to fire Norm?" Josh asked.

"Competition's the name of the game," Blane blurted. "Norm wasn't keeping up with the times."

"How could he?" Josh demanded. "You made him do all the background checks on prospective clients."

"He used to stay over," Blane said.

"His wife's sick," Jackie told him. "He had to leave here to take care of her."

Blane ran a finger under his collar. "He managed to stay this whole weekend."

"He probably thought he had to to keep his job," Chaz said.

"He couldn't afford to lose it now," Josh added. "His wife's hospital bills were expensive, and he needed his health insurance."

"Did you know about his wife?" Monroe asked.

Blane licked his lips. "I think he might have mentioned it once."

"When you 'talked' to him?" Josh asked.

"It might have come up."

Jackie gave a sigh of exasperation. "No wonder he played dirty to win the contest. His whole future was at stake."

"His family's, too," Josh said.

The detective walked to Norm's desk and glanced in the trash basket. "There's a couple of empty carry-in cartons, but that's about it. The man must not have even taken the time to eat."

"Oh, but he had to," Josh said.

Monroe shook his head. "See for yourself."

"But Norm's diabetic," Josh said. "He had to eat six small meals a day, or he might go into coma."

Monroe bent to rummage through the trash. "Did he need insulin?"

Chaz nodded. "He'd go into the restroom to give himself shots."

"I don't see any needles," Monroe said.

"You mean..." Blane turned on his heel and stalked out of the office. When he returned, his face was mottled red. "Norm increased his life insurance policy a few months before I fired Tarcher."

"For how much?" Jackie asked.

"Two million." Blane spat out the words.

"So what's it to you?" Monroe asked. "Your work compensation picks it up, right?"

"That's what we do," Blane snapped. "WE'RE the people who insure companies."

A grim smile tilted Monroe's lips.

"Norm's met the monthly premiums each time, but he barely started paying in."

Chaz grinned, too. "No one knew insurance better than Norm. He saw the handwriting on the wall, man. He set you up."

Blane's neck turned crimson. "He died in this office on purpose. That way, he gets double indemnity for accidental death."

"Enough to keep his family set for life. I knew he was good, but, man, this is great!" Chaz's voice brimmed with admiration.

Blane jerked to Norm's machine. "I don't care about your scene of crime team. You don't need any clues. We've all guessed what happened. I want those new accounts Norm got. They'll help balance his settlement."

But as Blane reached for the keyboard, he bumped Norm's chair slightly. Norm's body tipped, and the fingers that gripped the mouse turned soft. They pressed on the clickers, and the screen went blank.

"No, this can't happen to me!" Blane cried.

"What happened?" Jackie asked. "Norm's dead. How did he do that?"

Monroe explained. "Rigor mortis stiffens the body after about four hours. It moves from the small muscles to the big ones. After about thirty hours, it leaves the same way. Small muscles relax first."

"Like fingers," said Josh.

"You don't suppose...." Jackie stopped, considering.

"I wondered why he was hanging onto the damn mouse," Chaz said.

Josh smiled. "He was hoping we'd see the accounts, then if he got one last lucky shot, he'd erase them all."

"It's your fault!" Blane pointed to Monroe. "If you'd have let me download the files when I wanted to.."

Monroe closed his notepad and put it in his pocket. "As far as I'm concerned, you killed that poor guy," he told Blane. "You're as responsible for his death as if you'd pulled a trigger. I can't charge you for it, but I have to give Norm credit. Justice has prevailled. Good day, Mr. Blane. The scene of crime team can take away the body." He left Blane sputtering behind him and chuckled softly as he left the office.

###

Judith Post has had short stories in Alfred Hitchcock and Ellery Queen's mystery magazines, as well as WomenSleuth anthologies. She's also had stories in the 100 Vicious Little Vampire Stories anthology and Horrors! 365 Scary Stories anthology by Barnes & Noble Books.