By John Leatherman
With my publisher’s demand for a retraction—practically a resignation in this journalistic environment—hanging over me, I approached the production booth. Through the window, I watched Clint Bell at the microphone bringing his show to commercial break.
“You’re deep in The Bell Hole, live on Eastville’s ZAP-95 FM. We’ll be back after these messages—including one from a proud new sponsor, Amity Apparel. Stay tuned… or there’ll be Bell to pay!”
Once the ON AIR light dimmed, I slipped through the door. Clint had made a career of debasing public figures on live radio, and I’d given him plenty to attack after my article practically accused him of murder. “Mr. Bell? Could I have a word?”
Clint swiveled toward me, his furrowed brow framed by graying locks. “Valerie Darling! Haven’t been this pleased to see anyone since my last colonoscopy. Hope you’re here to apologize.”
“Of course.” I raised my micro-recorder. “On tape, if you like.”
He waved it away. “No way. You’re not getting any more quotes to twist for your pitiful doggy trainer of a newspaper.”
“Fine.” I deserved that. Admittedly, my Clint Bell profile, “Radio Silencer,” had veered from sensible to sensational, but I’d salvage my career if I played this moment right. I stashed the recorder in my handbag and set it on the console, blocking Clint’s view as I reached behind it. I turned to him, palms raised. “None of this will appear in print.”
Clint folded his arms. “So, when can I expect a retraction?”
“Mr. Bell, you have to admit it was suspicious. You had your own show for years, and suddenly ZAP-95 wanted you to share it with a co-host who could bring in younger listeners with his hot new podcast. You must have felt threatened by Dominic Slack. When he was murdered, what was I supposed to think?”
“That his wife shot him for the life insurance. Congratulations on missing the most obvious suspect. It’s always the spouse! That’s Detective 101.”
“I’m a journalist, not a detective. I don’t solve crimes, I write stories.”
“That’s a good word for it.” He harrumphed. “Will I hear sorry anytime soon?”
“For what, exactly? I wrote, ‘One wonders if Bell, the long-dominant dinosaur suddenly facing competition, was involved somehow.’”
“Miss Darling, I don’t know about ‘Valerie-ality,’ but in this universe, Tatiana Slack’s in jail for shooting her husband. She acted alone, case closed, the end.”
“Yes, but what about the beginning?” From my handbag I pulled Dominic’s laptop, emblazoned with the Slack’s Facts podcast logo.
Clint winced. “Where’d you get that?”
“Bought it cheap from Tatiana. She posted bail, and she’s trying to raise money for an insanity defense.” I opened the cover. “The entire archive of Slack’s Facts is on here—including the most recent episode—recorded August twelfth but never aired.”
Groaning, Clint cringed as if shown proof of illegitimate progeny. “I can explain. I never wanted to go on that cheese-doodle podcast. The station forced me. Told me to formally invite Slack to be my co-host. And be excited about it!”
“For obvious reasons, Dominic never got to edit the raw video.” Tapping the taskbar video icon, I opened the file. The screen filled with the image of Clint and Dominic—a lanky, bespectacled young man with overgrown brown bangs—seated at microphones in Dominic’s makeshift garage studio. Crates of unsold Slack’s Facts merchandise lined the walls.
“I have the video cued to an interesting point.” I clicked play, and Clint’s voice emitted from the speaker.
***
“You’ve got a fun little hobby here, Slack, but don’t plan on bringing this podcast nonsense to ZAP-95. Drive-time radio is—”
An off-camera female voice interrupted. “Hey, Dummy-nic, Eastville Electric’s on the phone, ready to shut off the power. Our card’s declined again.”
Dominic shouted back, “Taty, I said to stop giving the old MasterCard! Use the new Visa.”
Tatiana Slack stomped into view, an imposing woman with long, straight black hair. She leered at Dominic. “I did. Declined.”
Quivering, Dominic grinned. “Guess we’re stretched a little thin until the merch sells. I’ll talk to them.” He turned to Clint. “Be right back.” He slunk away.
Clint glanced at Tatiana. “So, Taty, Dominic does everything here? Ever think about hiring a producer? A sound engineer?”
She fumed. “I’ve thought about hiring a lawyer. But I’d probably end up paying alimony.”
Dominic returned. “It’s all good, Taty. I told them how Amity Apparel is planning a huge ad buy on Slack’s Facts for back-to-school season. Got us a thirty-day extension.”
Tatiana left.
Addressing Clint again, Dominic wiped his brow. “Whew! My first sponsor. Exciting, isn’t it?”
Clint nodded. “Definitely.”
“Okay, you were saying? And don’t worry, I’ll edit all that out.”
“Slack, that’s my whole point. There’s no editing on live radio…”
***
Stopping the video, I stared at Clint. “I couldn’t help noticing your new sponsor for back-to-school season.”
Clint shrugged. “And? They can’t sponsor Slack anymore.”
“Yes, but Amity withdrew its ad buy through an email to Dominic on August thirteenth—two days before the murder!”
Fists clenched, Clint growled. “Fine! After that joke of an interview, I called Amity and convinced them my audience was more reliable.”
“You brought up Slack’s murder every day on your show. Swore you knew nothing about it. But you expected it all along, didn’t you? You may not have pulled the trigger, but you gave Tatiana her motive.”
“Slack’s Facts was on life support. I performed a mercy killing. I won’t apologize for being good at my job. I don’t know what else you expect me to say.”
I smiled. “Nothing, really. Because, apparently, you’re not good enough at your job to notice…” I yanked my handbag off the console, revealing the illuminated ON AIR light. “…that I turned on the broadcast feed.”
I sauntered past slack-jawed Clint to the microphone. “But I’m a woman of my word. I’m sorry I called you a dinosaur.”
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Nice murder mystery solved! Da-da-DUM. When I saw your title a couple weeks ago, I wondered if the separation in “radio active” was on purpose. Very clever and a great story!
Thank you!
Yes, I wanted to showcase my detective and call it “Valerie Darling and the Case of the Radio Active Waste”… turns out Havok has a character limit on the titles!
that was fun!
Excellent! Nice twist ending with the antagonist getting what he deserved!
Glad you liked it!
The longer version opens with Clint taking calls from listeners… and ends with a call from the FCC!
Never trust someone with a handbag 😉
What a fun mystery!
Wow, smart lady! Great job, John. And I love the title!