Read Online The Case of the Lady in Apartment 308 by Lass Small - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Lass Small
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had once been terminated. That had sounded so final. Like a death knell.
Released was another substitute word for fired. The mental image was pigeons being freed from a sack on a rooftop.
Being fired was now called downsizing. That meant the firm was in trouble financially. The CEOs were paid too much in unbelievably staggering amounts. That took money from the budget, which limited or shrunk the lower echelon.
Charlie was Ed’s age, give or take a couple of years. He was a good, easy golfer and a cheerful father. His father-in-law was a competent man and had beenhanging on carefully by his fingernails. At his age, he was mistaken for deadwood.
The company would hire some cheap, wet-eared kids, and those novices would proceed to brilliantly foul things up. Then the older men would be brought back on piecework to try to sort out and glue the whole mess together while the kids learned what to do.
It was all as inevitable as rain. Sometimes it took longer but it would rain.
Then Ed remembered reading in Time magazine of the archaeologists who had dug into the soil of the Middle East. They discovered that once there had been a three- hundred -year drought.
A stunning thing. There were no seeds in those soil layers of time. The land had been stark and barren.
So as Ed went out to his car to go pick up Marcia, his thoughts of the offer in California loomed in his mind.
At least Ed had an income. Forewarned is really forearmed. If he hadn’t “downsized” his own life, he’d be in the same bind Charlie now found himself.
But Ed had caught the wind shift for middle management. He’d studied how to counter it. And now he knew he would be all right. With study, anything can be stabilized.
In time, even Charlie and his father-in-law would be okay. They might not have the clout they’d had, but they’d be all right. They’d be back on the treadmill.
Treadmill.
That was an interesting word to pop up at such a time. Did Ed consider that working in an office was a…treadmill? Had he been doing altered things over and over, from varying directions, and mentally getting nowhere? Hmmmm.
Was there a glass roof for men? Yeah. Long before women hit it, there had been men splattered against it.
Being “freed to follow other avenues” was a premise to be considered. At least Ed had no wife and kiddies to worry about.
Ed missed the drollness of the last thought as he arrived at the apartment house to fetch Marcia.
She was dressed in a demure, ladylike, light blue dress. She looked so sweet that she could be the choir director. She could, if the observer didn’t notice her sly eyes.
As Ed noticed them, her eyes cleared and the lashes lifted to look into his with honest candor.
This was a woman a man needed to be careful about. She could be dangerous to a man…to him…to Edgar Hollingsworth.
Well, he could handle a little danger.
Ed smiled and said, “You really look different lately. I think it could have been those coveralls.”
“Oh, do you suppose?”
“I didn’t realize you were…so female.”
“You’d never make a cop. No imagination at all.” She smiled, her teeth in her lower lip, and her eyes sparkled unduly.
She didn’t think he had any imagination? But he replied to her comment, “I’ve only known pragmatic cops.”
Marcia sassed, “They hide their humor and intelligence quite well.”
“How do you know that?”
She looked surprised. “I ran into a cop…just this week. It was a fluke, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But he said I’d turned wrong.”
Ed guessed, “It was a one-way street?”
She nodded soberly. “I went into the middle lane and had to back up for almost a mile on the thruway.”
Ed nodded serious bobs. “That was an experience. A challenge.”
She complained, “A lot of people honked at me.”
Again Ed’s head nodded in agreement. “That’s probably what they’d do.”
“A cop came along and led me.”
“Well! That was nice.”
She explained,
Released was another substitute word for fired. The mental image was pigeons being freed from a sack on a rooftop.
Being fired was now called downsizing. That meant the firm was in trouble financially. The CEOs were paid too much in unbelievably staggering amounts. That took money from the budget, which limited or shrunk the lower echelon.
Charlie was Ed’s age, give or take a couple of years. He was a good, easy golfer and a cheerful father. His father-in-law was a competent man and had beenhanging on carefully by his fingernails. At his age, he was mistaken for deadwood.
The company would hire some cheap, wet-eared kids, and those novices would proceed to brilliantly foul things up. Then the older men would be brought back on piecework to try to sort out and glue the whole mess together while the kids learned what to do.
It was all as inevitable as rain. Sometimes it took longer but it would rain.
Then Ed remembered reading in Time magazine of the archaeologists who had dug into the soil of the Middle East. They discovered that once there had been a three- hundred -year drought.
A stunning thing. There were no seeds in those soil layers of time. The land had been stark and barren.
So as Ed went out to his car to go pick up Marcia, his thoughts of the offer in California loomed in his mind.
At least Ed had an income. Forewarned is really forearmed. If he hadn’t “downsized” his own life, he’d be in the same bind Charlie now found himself.
But Ed had caught the wind shift for middle management. He’d studied how to counter it. And now he knew he would be all right. With study, anything can be stabilized.
In time, even Charlie and his father-in-law would be okay. They might not have the clout they’d had, but they’d be all right. They’d be back on the treadmill.
Treadmill.
That was an interesting word to pop up at such a time. Did Ed consider that working in an office was a…treadmill? Had he been doing altered things over and over, from varying directions, and mentally getting nowhere? Hmmmm.
Was there a glass roof for men? Yeah. Long before women hit it, there had been men splattered against it.
Being “freed to follow other avenues” was a premise to be considered. At least Ed had no wife and kiddies to worry about.
Ed missed the drollness of the last thought as he arrived at the apartment house to fetch Marcia.
She was dressed in a demure, ladylike, light blue dress. She looked so sweet that she could be the choir director. She could, if the observer didn’t notice her sly eyes.
As Ed noticed them, her eyes cleared and the lashes lifted to look into his with honest candor.
This was a woman a man needed to be careful about. She could be dangerous to a man…to him…to Edgar Hollingsworth.
Well, he could handle a little danger.
Ed smiled and said, “You really look different lately. I think it could have been those coveralls.”
“Oh, do you suppose?”
“I didn’t realize you were…so female.”
“You’d never make a cop. No imagination at all.” She smiled, her teeth in her lower lip, and her eyes sparkled unduly.
She didn’t think he had any imagination? But he replied to her comment, “I’ve only known pragmatic cops.”
Marcia sassed, “They hide their humor and intelligence quite well.”
“How do you know that?”
She looked surprised. “I ran into a cop…just this week. It was a fluke, of course.”
“Of course.”
“But he said I’d turned wrong.”
Ed guessed, “It was a one-way street?”
She nodded soberly. “I went into the middle lane and had to back up for almost a mile on the thruway.”
Ed nodded serious bobs. “That was an experience. A challenge.”
She complained, “A lot of people honked at me.”
Again Ed’s head nodded in agreement. “That’s probably what they’d do.”
“A cop came along and led me.”
“Well! That was nice.”
She explained,
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