Murder in the Office Suite

Rebecca Giono
The Crime Scene

Senior Detective Watermark stood over the body. He hitched up his margins and previewed the remains.
He looked thoughtful [pensive (adj.)]. Eventually he glanced up to find his partner, Junior Detective
Orientation watching him with disdain. Orientation had a face like parchment, eyes like Italics. He was also
a 2007 document.

Watermark cleared his throat and gestured to the body. “So what do we have here, Orientation?”

“A Word document, sir.” Orientation’s layout was guileless.

Inwardly Watermark sighed. Of course, Detective Orientation was right, it was a Word document. The
document was sprawled but whether on its back or front page was yet to be determined. The text had
started to bleed into the gsm, preventing identification. Watermark crouched down, careful not to wrinkle
his most distinguishing feature. The stab wounds must be deep to cause this kind of textual loss, Watermark
concluded. Hmmm, and using his pen lifted the limp sheet, and confined to just one corner. Interesting.

“Victim?”

“Unidentified.”

He viewed his surroundings. “The Office suite?”

“Vacant. Checked the records, hasn’t been leased for months.”

“Mmmm,” was Watermark’s only response.

“It feels Setup.” Orientation ventured.

Watermark straightened and patted his partner on the backpage, stepping around him. “You always say
that.” He wandered away to the other side of the room.

“And you always blend into the background,” Orientation murmured. Detective Orientation resented
Watermark and his familiarity. He coveted Watermark’s specialness but couldn’t bring himself to like him.
Glad though Orientation was that his senior most ranking officer was counterfeitlessness and therefore
incorruptible, Orientation felt he too was special even though there were Orientations by the dozen
everywhere.

Watermark overheard the jealousy in his partner’s voice but declined to comment. It was true, he did
always retreat to the background. It made the foreground so much easier to investigate. He confirmed with
Orientation the doctor was on his way and then sent his junior partner to oversee identification with the
Fonts, the patrol officers. Satisfied things were in hand, he started to catalogue the evidence, eyes roaming
around the room, always drawn back to the body on the floor.

A disturbance from the doorway caught his attention. Agents Spelling & Grammar pushed past Font
patrolman, Officer Batang and entered the Office suite. Officer Batang silently protested to Watermark who
waved him his consent. Officer Batang nodded respectfully and went back to guarding the door.

2
The agents worked in Review and were hand-written to oversee the formatting of any document. Their
primary function was investigating illegally downloaded documents but usually they pushed in on
everyone’s jurisdiction desperate for the case that would catapult them into promotion. They immediately
began to throw their gsm around.

“This here’s our jurisdiction, Watermark.” Agent Spelling announced. He was followed by a Review PD
team. Following his announcement, Spelling paid no mind to Watermark and began to direct his team.
“Let’s Show Markup,” he pointed, “here, here, here and over there.”

Watermark watched the activity impassively. He disagreed with Agent Spelling’s orders but it never
occurred to him to voice his concerns. Once again he preferred to withdraw and examine the clues from a
distance. Besides it wouldn’t do any good. With any luck, another weightier case would grab their attention
and he’d be left alone.

Agent Grammar came up to Watermark and stuck his smug layout in his. He sneered. “Get in our way and
you’ll be nothing but a Footnote by the end of the day.”

Watermark gave him a small smile which Agent Grammar pretended not to feel threatened by. Review
agents may have been undeletable but they were also near useless. Review agents with shortcuts on their
records, like these two, were the worst.

Agent Spelling, having bossed his team into compliance, strolled up to Grammar and Watermark. “This
here’s a slam dunk. I get this and me and my partner are fast-tracked for the Reviewing Pane.”

Agent Grammar leant in and automatically corrected. “My partner and I.” Agent Spelling ignored him.

“Excuse me, Agent Spelling?” A Review PD technician stood quivering behind him. “Uh, do you want us to
check the rest of the document?” The quivering intensified as he waited for the response.

Agent Spelling looked contemptuously at his underling. “Did I direct you to do that in the first place?” he
asked in a soft voice.

“No but –”

“NO BUTS!” Agent Spelling roared. All activity was suspended. His voice dropped again. “Do as directed or
you’ll be,” Watermark mouthed along with the rest of the threat, “a Footnote by the end of the day.” Agent
Grammar caught Watermark and scowled. The underling scurried away, its layout bleached with fear.

Behind them, the Review PD team recommenced their work, protecting the document from helpful trace
evidence, vital clues and possibly, the murder suspect. Watermark had to suppress a sigh again and instead
turned his attention to the two agents who seemed to have made it their life’s pursuit to hound him into
recyclement.

Both Agents Spelling & Grammar were baffled by Watermark’s methods and disgusted with his outstanding
success rate. They were also mighty envious he had never been shortcutted. Instinctively both agents
moved in, intimidation their specialty. For his amusement, Watermark swelled his gsm. The intricate

3
pattern which usually floated behind him, gathered strength and depth, its design twirled and twisted and
pushed forward, the subtle grey amplified to a violent purple. Both agents jumped back. They were very,
very pale.

“Excuse me, gentlemen.” Watermark nodded to Officer Batang as he passed him on the way out.

The body was being loaded into the back of the HELP van. The street was full of reporters, the paper mache
Office block was full of police, sirens flashed and the HELP van sped off, chased by very persistent press.
Junior Detective Orientation was still there, erect as a Portrait, directing the activity. Watermark waited
until he was well outside before letting a grin split his layout.

Watermark stopped. Now there’s a thought.

4
The Morgue

Detective Watermark was waiting for the chief medical investigator for the Unidentified Word Document
Deaths. Dr Columns pushed through the swinging doors, Clipboard in hand.

“Ah Detective, quite the evening isn’t it?”

Watermark nodded in response [reply (n.)]. “So what do you think of the Page Layout?”

“Ah, you noticed too? Good...good.”

Watermark’s eyebrows shot up. He’d asked his usual question. What had he missed? Columns pulled the
out tray. Folded over the tray, Watermark studied the body again. The text had now been washed away.
His eyes were drawn to the corner and what he found was astonishing.

In the top left corner, two neat puncture holes, equal distance apart, had pierced the document.

Watermark swallowed, his eyes felt torn. “Seen this before?”

The doctor continued to consult his Clipboard. Without looking up, he replied, “Never. You?”

“Never.” Watermark straightened. “What could have done this?”

Dr Columns considered his answer very carefully before giving it. He knew as soon as he saw the enormous
amount of textual loss that the weapon would have had to have been especially vicious. After cleaning the
remains and cataloguing what was left of the trace evidence, Columns had spent a long time gazing at the
fatal wounds. A memory had stirred, deep in his programming but so far nothing had prompted a
remembrance. Perhaps he’d seen this before, more likely he’d just read about it.

“Inconclusive,” was the easy answer. Watermark grunted and left soon after. Columns stared after him,
sure Watermark knew he was hiding something.

5
A Second Look at the Crime Scene

“What the F7 do you think you’re doing?”

The Office block was finally empty of its circus. Even Officer Batang had been sent home. Only black and
yellow tape remained, evidence a crime had been committed. Watermark was hoping for some peace and
quiet to reflect and CTRL + F some proof when he was confronted with a break and enter.

Subscript Reporter, Penny Pencil was standing in the dark and had been writing furiously when startled by
Detective Watermark. She almost broke in two.

“Contaminating the crime scene,” she retorted hotly. “What do you think I’m doing?”

Penny’s stories had been published below the fold for too long now. She was desperate for a break and was
desperately hoping this Unidentified Word Document Death was going to be the story that broke her into
the big time! It came with an illustrious promotion to Superscript Reporter and an upgraded classification
from HB to 2B.

“Don’t be a SmartArt.” Watermark noted Penny had more respect for the crime scene than either Agents
Spelling or Grammar. Regardless, she had to go. Watermark worked alone. No one knew that better than
Orientation who, rather than be along for the ride, was neatly collated in bed.

Watermark gestured to the door. Penny followed him. “Come on Watermark! I’ve gotta make my Publish
Date! Just a few Keywords!”

“You expect Keywords after this? You broke the law!”

Penny was sullen. “I felt totally Justified.”

Watermark snorted.

“Something’s weird about this one, Watermark. You know, I know it and as per usual, Review hasn’t got a
clue.” Penny said this about every lead hoping that one day it would ring true and some Officer of the law
would break down but Watermark’s countenance remained hopelessly blank. Finally Penny wailed. “Come
on, give a page a break!”

Watermark creased his arm and pointed to the door. “Out!”

“.docx!” muttered Penny.

“Watch your Language, young lady.” Watermark noted the dismayed look on her multi-faceted features.
“Look, you’re a good reporter, you’re sharp and get your facts straight,” Penny brightened, “but if you don’t
get out of here right now, I will have to take you in.”

Penny made one last desperate plea. “Look, you’re a document so this might not be something you can
understand but all my life, I’ve wanted nothing else but to be a 2B!”

Watermark didn’t waiver. “Out,” he coupled this with a sweet “please.”

Penny twirled out the door and into the night, determination written all over her.

6
The Missing Document

Watermark had scoured the crime scene and was elated with what he’d found. He’d immediately called Dr
Columns who wasn’t available. Watermark left a message asking Columns to confirm his suspicions.
Watermark had just left the Office, locking the door of the crime scene behind him when the call had come
through. The call was from Font patrolman, Officer Calibri.

“Officer Batang ordered me to contact you, sir.”

“Did he now?” Batang was Watermark’s informant [informer (n.)] in the Font patrol and kept him apprised
of all the interesting things the Fonts over-formatted on the job.

“Yes sir. Firstly, the victim has been identified. He is Mark Citation, Professor Papyrus’ trusted lab assistant.”

“Really?” Watermark wondered how soon he’d get a call from Columns telling him the very same thing.

“That’s not all, sir!” Calibri’s excitement was palpable. “Professor Papyrus has been reported missing!”

Watermark nearly reformatted himself! Professor Papyrus, missing? Mark Citation, dead? What was the
connection?

Watermark thanked Calibri for his information and was about to close the call when Calibri mentioned who
reported the Professor’s disappearance and nothing could have surprised Watermark more.

7
The Arrest

After Officer Calibri’s call, Watermark headed to the precinct. When he pulled up, the media circus from the
Office suite had followed Agents Spelling & Grammar on the promise of a press conference.

Agent Grammar spotted Watermark first. He swaggered over and as much as Watermark wanted to ignore
him, the agents never usually held a press conference so soon after a body discovery. This was a first and he
was about to find out why.

Agent Spelling was standing at the podium and behind him was a document, restrained by two Review
agents.

“HERE IS YOUR KILLER!”

Watermark was shocked by Agent Spelling’s pronouncement. The crowd, on the other hand, went
UPPERCASE!

As Agent Spelling Outlined for the reporters and concerned members of the community as to how the
Review cracked the case, Watermark worked his way forward, Agent Grammar dogging his every step.
Watermark looked into the so-called killer’s layout and shook his head. That skinny lightweight? Watermark
severely doubted it. There was no way that document could have wielded what he believed to be the
murder weapon. Sheet, he just didn’t have the gsm.

Agent Spelling completed his tale and turned to the would-be killer. “Any last words?” he snickered.

The crowd jeered.

“TAKE HIM BACK TO THE TEXT BOX!”

The crowd cheered.

The Review agents bundled him into the Text Box and formatted its borders with 2pt Square Dot.
Watermark could just make out the poor slip inside and wondered, on top of finding the real killer, how he
was going to free this victim of ego before he was prematurely sentenced to recycling.

Agent Spelling turned his attention back to the reporters. “I can be taking questions now.”

A hand shot up. “Subscript Reporter, Penfold Pencil from the Lead & Ink, sir!”

Knowing full well it was, Spelling inquired, “Is this for the Cover Page, Penfold?”

“It is sir! Do you think any of the Styles are involved?”

The Styles were a nuisance. They were largely forgotten and wholly under-utilised feature so they resorted
to being a public annoyance. In 97, there was some talk of subscripting them into service but it was
updated and never went through. Their latest scam was actually quite ingenious and very lucrative. It
involved reformatting whole documents into a copycat of Office’s Next Top Word Document for a huge
premium. Never before had they resorted to violence and the thought of murder (and thereby reducing
their audience to swindle) didn’t seem at all feasible to Watermark.

8
Agent Spelling looked engraved. “It is,” there was a hush, “entirely possible.”

The crowd started murmuring. If it wasn’t so serious, Watermark would have laughed.

“Agent Spelling, what do you think? For the Cover Page? ‘Strikethrough for Spelling & Grammar!’”

Spelling looked delighted and they began discussing formatting.

But Subscript Reporter Penny Pencil had seen the doubt on Watermark’s layout and made her choice.

“Who was the victim?” Watermark was pleased with the question. In all of Spelling’s Outline, not once did
he mention who the victim was. This Penny Pencil was sharp.

Agent Spelling was controlled in his response but Watermark could tell he didn’t like it. “Identify yourself!”

“Have you found the murder weapon?” Penny’s question rang out over the hubbub.

This time the crowd ceased its racket and waited for the answer. Agent Grammar joined Spelling at the
podium.

“All members of the press are required to identify themselves. Now!”

The crowd start to murmur [mutter (v.)] discontentedly, wondering why the agent wasn’t answering the
questions. Who cared who she was? She was right! They didn’t know who was murdered or how! What if
they were next?!

Agent Grammar could see the crowd was fanning out and took control. “Now that we have the suspect, we
will be just paragraphs away from knowing everything,” he assured the crowd. The crowd was relieved.

Penny’s voice rang out again. “Suspect? Before he said ‘killer’! So are you now not sure if that document
actually did it?” The crowd grumbled once more.

“I assure you, that’s not the case.” Agent Spelling’s tone was light but his smile was tight. Penny knew she
was onto something.

“But it’s true you’ve not done your Research?”

The crowd gasped. That was a serious accusation for any document.

“No Comment!”

Agent Grammar adopted Spelling’s tight smile. “This press conference is over. Agents! Disperse the crowd,
see these documents get home safely,” he added.

Watermark was making his way into the precinct. Agent Grammar furiously whirled on Watermark. “You
put her up to it, didn’t you?!”

“For the record, I didn’t but she’s right isn’t she? You’ve got the wrong doc, don’t you?

Agent Grammar narrowed his margins. “Consider revising your last sentence because if you don’t!”

Watermark pushed past him and into the precinct.

9
The Professor’s Girlfriend

Symbol was gorgeous. She could be anything you wanted her to be. Symbol worked long hours and kept to
herself, she was still kind of a mystery. There wasn’t a document in the whole entire Office that didn’t want
her to lay it all out on the page. Some even Saved themselves for her, in the hope she’d settle down one
day and decide to take a more permanent post as a Special Character.

Symbol had reported Professor Papyrus missing. She was also the last person to see the Professor alive.

Watermark smiled kindly. “Now, Ms Symbol, let’s just start at the beginning.”

They were in the cosiest of interview rooms which was to say it was plain, borderless and unsullied by prior
(unauthorised) deletions. Symbol sat primly but on the verge of Hyperlinking and Detective Watermark had
his work cut out for him keeping her calm and on track.

“”

[“I didn’t kill my boyfriend!”]

Watermark had been surprised to hear Papyrus had a girlfriend. The Professor was very work-oriented and
had always filed alone. The detective put up his hands. “OK Ms Symbol, just calm down. No one said
anything about killing.”

“


 F7!”

[“Calm? How can I be calm when my boyfriend is misfiled and you, you think I did it! Calm? I’m going to be
anything but calm! In fact I don’t think I’ll ever be calm again! F7!”]

“Wingdings, get over here and Translate this.” Dr Wingdings was a PsychoFontist. He hurried to the Table
and immediately began taking Notes. Wingdings was a member of Review and the only one tolerated and
even liked by everyone else.

When Wingdings had translated, Watermark returned to the Table. “No one is accusing you of anything, Ms
Symbol. Should we be?”

Symbol tossed her lovely head.

“
”

[“Of course not! I must say I’m relieved to hear it. Honestly! Persecuting innocent people!”]

Watermark rubbed his layout, frustrated with her dramatics. Beautiful and desirable she might be, but her
inability to answer a straight question was irritating and her accusations were just childish.

10
Watermark switched tacts. “Ms Symbol, you’re here because, distraught as you are, you are outraged that
something would so callously misfile a document.” At this, Symbol nodded, lashes wet with unshed tears.
"You are here in the name of truth. To honour your beloved.” Symbol sat straight in her chair. She enjoyed
hearing lovely things about herself. “With your knowledge, you can protect the whole community, be–“

“” Symbol breathed.

[“A hero”]

Inwardly Watermark smiled. Thatta girl. “Exactly.”

For the next hour, Symbol would not shut up. Wingdings Translated furiously [feverishly (adv.)],
Watermark and Orientation reading over his corners. She was hardly delineable, most of what she said was
garbled and she could barely string a coherent paragraph together. Orientation made a motion to dismiss
and that’s when Symbol finally said something interesting.

“


”

[“Proffie wasn’t so much fun lately. He said he was working on something big and couldn’t be disturbed. I
told him, if he kept up all this work he would lose me but he didn’t care.”]

Watermark found her nickname for the revered Professor nauseating and disrespectful and he wondered
for the millionth time what the prominent professor found in this flaky floozy.

“



”

[“Proffie said he was scared for his life. I don’t know what he thought, but I was scared for my life. He
wouldn’t even take me to the WordArt exhibition last week. Do you know what that kind of snub can do to a
girl’s social calendar?”]

Symbol stretched alluringly. All but Watermark found the gesture enticing.

“

.”

[“Anyway just when I thought my life would be over, Proffie sent the tickets over with an envelope.”]

“Wingdings, go back. Have her confirm this.” Watermark paragraph-marked a statement. Wingdings did as
he was bid.

11
Symbol sniffed. “”

[“He was just an envelope.”]

Watermark and Orientation exchanged glances. Just an envelope? No such thing. Envelopes, also known as
couriers, were the scourge of the Word. Professor Papyrus mixed up with envelopes? It didn’t seem
possible. Watermark pressed Symbol to be specific about the envelope, its distinguishing features, if it said
anything and the more he pressed, the more recalcitrant she became with her answers.

Watermark gave up and left Orientation in charge of getting the statement. He went outside to look at the
View. Agents Spelling & Grammar were the heads of the current taskforce which had produced no tangible
results but many press conferences. Watermark was bound by programming to inform them of the link
between the deceased and a potential courier but still he hesitated. “I’m missing something. What is it?”

12
The Murder Weapon

Once the statement was neatly typed and recorded, Orientation was ordered to find Watermark.
Orientation marched down the corridors. He was irritated. Nothing new but he felt Watermark could have
shown Symbol more respect.

“Ah, Orientation. Statement done already?” Watermark eased himself from suspension.

Orientation nodded stiffly. Watermark chuckled. “I know, I know, you wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t, right?”
He lead his partner to the evidence Table. “Put aside your hurt feelings and tell me what you see.”
Watermark gestured for Orientation to take a look.

Orientation gave Watermark a long look before turning his attention to the evidence. On the Table were
several thin metal devices, all straight along the top with each end curled under. They looked harmless,
almost cute. Orientation was about to dismiss this as one of Watermark’s crazy hunches when Watermark
lay a Picture beside the curled Objects.

Orientation gasped. The Picture showed the same Objects with the same straight edge at the top but
instead of curled, the metal ends were bent down at a 90° angle. Orientation gasped again.

“They’re...they’re...staples, sir!”

Watermark thumped him on the backpage. “Exactly!” He thumbed the Pictures thoughtfully. “I had
Columns confirm the exact make and model.”

Orientation looked at Watermark, eyes wild. “You mean Mark Citation was killed by a, by a stapler?”
Watermark had filled him in on the identity of the victim, declining to mention his source. Columns had also
confirmed identity with a Full Screen Reading.

“Right again, son.”

Orientation spluttered, “That’s...hideous!” He turned his layout from Watermark. “Who could do this to a
document sir?”

Watermark had a chilling idea but before he could answer, a crackle on his radio changed everything.

13
The Second Victim

Officer Batang’s voice could barely be heard over the static. “...domestic disturbance...responded... on his
way...coming from the morgue, sir... another body...not pretty... I’ll spare you the details...sir...” Batang
signed off.

Orientation turned to Watermark. “What do you make of that?” He was putting two and two together and
realising Watermark wasn’t as squeaky clean with his inside information. Strangely, the knowledge made
him respect him more.

Watermark didn’t trust himself to speak and left with Orientation trailing on behind him. When they
arrived, the familiar media circus was at the scene, Spelling & Grammar were grim round the edges and
holding yet another press conference. Orientation rolled his Italics. Despite what he was sure he was about
to confronted with, it amused Watermark to see Orientation’s reaction to the Review agents, usually a
beacon of hope for junior Officers.

At the door, they met with Officer Batang. Batang’s usual calm countenance was crumpled. Watermark
stopped and patted his backpage. Officer Batang straightened resolutely and nodded his gratitude to his
senior Officer. “It’s pretty gruesome, sir.”

Orientation went on ahead and had returned in mere moments. His parchment layout was paler than usual,
his Italics were red-rimmed. Watermark took pity on him and commanded him to check the perimeter.
Orientation was profoundly grateful and went to do his duty with as much face as possible.

Watermark steeled himself and stepped through the door, keeping to the background. Despite Batang’s
description and Orientation’s reaction, Watermark was not prepared for the horror.

Symbol’s figure was lying on the floor of her boudoir riddled with circular puncture marks. Hundreds of
perfect discs had been meticulously removed from her character and were scattered about the room. She,
once so glorious, was highlighted in red, so much red. Watermark had no words. He’s escalating...

Columns, meticulous as usual, found it difficult to keep his work in order. He moved over to Watermark and
wiped his layout. “It seems someone’s tying up loose ends,” he commented.

“Just like confetti...” Watermark’s voice was low.

“Eh?”Columns looked up and saw fear on his colleague’s layout. He knows! Columns thought, he knows
who the killer is!

14
Professor Papyrus Found!

Penny Pencil was determined. While all the other reporters hounded the agents, obsequiously mobbing
them like at every ‘press conference’, she was lying in wait for Watermark.

Penny had been doing some thinking. She was sick to her lead with writing stories about the Most
Becoming Stationery Accessories for the Coming Season and puff pieces about quasi-celebrities like Living
on the Edge: The Life and Times of the Paperclip. She wanted to write something that had a point. So she
sharpened her wits and jotted down her thoughts on the latest spree of murders. She was now waiting for
Watermark’s arrival so she could share these with him. For Penny had done her Research!

Outside Symbol’s palatial home, the agents were saving their moment.

Spelling began. “As Agent Grammar and I,” Grammar beamed at this correct use of his prime function,
“believed all along, it is clearly the work of a syndicate of...” here Spelling paused dramatically, “Styles!”

The reporters gasped collectively and made appreciative noises. Penny rolled her eyes. They all knew this of
course. The only way the agents could maintain their constant media clip presence was promoting a
preview of what sensational announcement was to come so the reporters would rush to their side for a
sound bite.

Penny snorted and shook her rubber head. It’s what kept them above the fold while the real detective work
was done behind the scenes, she thought. Behind the scenes...Penny’s eyes sought Watermark. Ah-ha!
Spotting her mark, she made her way through the throng.

A hand shot up. “Subscript Reporter, Penfold Pencil from the Lead & Ink, sir!” Agent Spelling nodded,
knowing what was coming. “How can you be sure?” Penfold knew which side his page was copied.

Agent Spelling winked. “Mark my words!” The crowd tittered and disgusted, Penny slipped away.

Penny stood very close to Officer Batang and that’s when she made her move. As Orientation slipped out
his layout grim, and Watermark walked in, Penny darted around Batang and into the crime scene.

Careful though she was, she could help but notice everything highlighted in red. Watermark was conferring
with one of Columns’ colleagues and she overheard him saying he’d be at the morgue when he was done
here. Penny shadowed Watermark as he methodically investigated Symbol’s death and kept to himself,
literally, behind the scene.

As she took notes, Penny began to understand why Watermark was so successful and well-respected
throughout the community (it was even said he was accepted by other applications) and how perhaps the
crimes committed by so-called law enforcers like Agent Spelling or Grammar were almost as bad as those
perpetrated before her.

Agents Spelling & Grammar thrust themselves into the crime scene, the usual Review PD team in their
wake. They were congratulating themselves on a fantastic press conference and Grammar couldn’t shut up

15
about Spelling’s sentence construction. Both did a double-take at the sight of Watermark as if to say, are
you still here? But it was too rehearsed.

Leisurely directing his team in the opposite direction of the evidence, Agent Spelling then noted where
Watermark was standing and positioning himself parallel, copied him. He nodded. “And over here,” he
added nonchalantly. Still feeling the buzz of a successful press conference, Spelling grabbed a passing
Review PD technician by the front page scrunching its pristine contents. “Rule nothing out!” The scrunched
technician looked forlornly at his front page and assented.

Spelling, with Grammar in tow, wandered over to Watermark. Watermark thought it time.

“Syndicate of Styles? I’d say that was highly unlikely.” Watermark very rarely offered any criticism to fellow
Officers especially in the field with witnesses...who were now listening intently.

Agent Spelling smirked. Grammar followed suit. Watermark continued.

“There has never been a violent [aggressive (adj.)] incident recorded against any known Style. They were a
public nuisance before turning public idols.” Watermark’s tone turned impatient and gestured to Symbol’s
deconstructed form. “Doesn’t this look familiar to you two?”

Agent Spelling’s smirk lessened considerably though he tried to hide it. Grammar’s smirk wavered too. He
kept looking to Spelling for cues.

“It’s not a Style,” Watermark said, almost to himself but with conviction.

Agent Grammar could no longer contain himself.

“There’s not one shred of evidence!”

Watermark nodded and turned back. “My point exactly.”

Overhearing this, Penny grinned and absentmindedly opened one of the filing cabinet drawers glancing
inside.

A scream, long and loud, curdled the air.

Penny stood stiffly beside the opened drawer of a cabinet she’d regretfully looked into. It was her screams
that had the attention of every official inside and out of the scene of the crime. Watermark hurried over.

There, in the cabinet, shoved inside a single suspension file was an envelope. It was stuffed, fit to bursting
and taped together. It was very, very dead.

16
Watermark reviews the case

Watermark was beyond caring about his most distinguished feature. At the precinct, he’d thrown himself
into a stack and creased himself into a foul mood.

What had followed was a nightmare of epic proportions. After Penny had stopped screaming and was
quietly Hyperlinking in the farthest corner, Watermark had extracted the envelope with the help of Dr
Columns and the Review’s PD team. After taking copious Pictures and without any objection from agents
Spelling & Grammar, Watermark quickly sterilised a letter opener and revealed to everyone what was
stuffed inside their newest victim. Columns assisted. The surrounding law enforcement documents stood in
silent appreciation for Watermark’s careful preservation of trace evidence and all were reminded of his
superb skills with an edged-weapon.

A horrified gasp filled the room.

Long, thin, identical strips of emaciated document spilled forth from the unaddressed envelope. One of the
PD team members fled in revulsion. Identifying either victim was going to be difficult. The document scraps
found inside the envelope, although without very many distinguishing features, would be more probable
but nearly impossible. What it definitely was, was unacceptable! Watermark was livid. Yet another victim!

Hence the reason for Watermark’s less than stellar mood. He had failed to prevent another heinous crime.
Yet another member of the community he’d sworn to protect was dead at the hands of a deranged killer
bent on exacting terror and inflicting pain before granting the oblivion of death which could be anything
but sweet.

“Like a shroud,” Orientation had murmured to himself. Watermark had grunted and turned over the
envelope. His junior partner had been right. Someone very sadistic had most likely used this petty packet to
send a message. Watermark’s most distinguished feature radiated to a calming sea-green. It was imperative
he allow himself some anger, it always sharpened his attention.

No one recognised either the envelope but being unaddressed it was highly unlikely its identity would ever
be known. Just another unsolved statistic. Watermark was quite sure, however, it was the envelope used to
courier over the WordArt tickets to Symbol, removing her from the picture...which appeared to be fruitless
since both the envelope and Symbol turned up dead. So, Watermark surmised, maybe Professor Papyrus
knew he would be targeted and in order to protect Symbol, devised a way to get her out...get her out...Here
Watermark faltered. He remembered what Symbol had said, “Do you know what that kind of snub can do
to a girl’s social calendar?” Exactly! The WordArt Exhibition, it was the biggest social event of the year!
What better place for the Professor’s beloved but in the public eye, safe amongst many. Watermark’s most
distinguished feature burned orange in memory of the Professor’s last wish thwarted.

Captain Hyphe-Nation exited the lift and searched for Watermark. Back in the old versions, Hyphe-Nation
and Watermark had been partners. Hyphe-Nation had moved onwards and upwards and had always felt
Watermark could and should do the same but Watermark wouldn’t have it. Finally Hyphe-Nation had

17
relented. The community could not lose their finest detective to document bureaucracy. Watermark was
far too valuable out in the Field.

For once Orientation did not wish to burden his superior Officer with any more bad news but he had a
feeling Watermark already knew. He approached his superior Officers with dread.

“Sir, I’m just from Columns. He’s expecting you.” Orientation cleared his throat. “I’ve got the identity of the
victim in the envelope.”

Watermark didn’t answer. Instead he went to the whiteboard and wrote:

Mark Citation, Professor Papyrus’ lab assistant, death by stapler.

Symbol, Professor Papyrus’ girlfriend, death by hole punch.

Unknown envelope, suspected courier, death by asphyxiation (overstuffing).

Here, Watermark faltered then drew himself up and continued writing.

Professor Papyrus, death by shredder.

Orientation couldn’t help a flash of admiration overcome his layout.

A whoosh escaped Captain Hyphe-Nation. That had come out of Aligned Left field. “But he was a guest
speaker at the Cross-referencing Convention only last month! No wonder we could hardly recognise him!”

The difference wrought [produced (adj.)] in the document from one ream to another was astounding.
Professor Papyrus was an elderly, thick document, well-known, respected and liked in the community.
Papyrus had worked his way up from Font patrolman all the way to Header of the Department of
Equations. The shredded victim was emaciated and severely Underlined and until now no one had
recognised him. What had happened since the convention? Who could have done this? And why?

“It is a sad day indeed,” remarked Captain Hyphe-Nation. Watermark heard Orientation rustle in
agreement.

Watermark asked how Papyrus was identified. Orientation coughed, “It was my idea sir. Carbon dating.”

“So what’s our next step Junior Detective Orientation?” Watermark rarely called Orientation by his full title.
It was a sign of exceptional work by his junior partner.

Orientation swelled with conflicted pride. “Column, sir. He knows more than what he’s saying.”

Watermark nodded grimly. “I’ll meet you there.”

18
Some Terrible News

The doctor guided Watermark into the examination room.

Watermark had called the doctor and advised he was on his way. Orientation said he would follow once he
had filed the evidence. Columns was excited but in control. He had lead the detective down the hall at a
brisk pace. Columns was positive the detective knew something about the victims or the murder weapons,
their origins perhaps a past case. It was the detective’s suspicions, after investigating the first crime scene
for a second time that gave Columns the direction he needed. Watermark had respectfully reserved his
questions which made the doctor esteem him more and almost burst with the news. When they entered
the morgue, Watermark saw Dr Columns had arranged each of the four victims on separate Out Trays.

Dr Columns removed the first sheet and pointed. Watermark gasped.

Dr Columns replaced the sheet. Then continued for the other three victims, Watermark’s surprise lessening
but the incredulity increasing.

“Tell me what you just saw.” Columns’ eyes were trained on Watermark’s layout.

Watermark leant against another gurney with no thought for his most distinguished feature. “I...I...I don’t
think...it’s not possible!”

“But as you can see, it is possible.” And with a flourish, Columns removed the sheet again.

Watermark threw up confetti into the sink.

Columns rushed to help. “There, there Detective. Feel better? Come now, let’s discuss this.”

Watermark shook his head, wiping his layout. “I can’t...I have to – have to go.”

As Watermark rushed from the room, Dr Columns replaced the last sheet and shook his head sadly.

Dr Columns went to his desk and fanned out the Pictures he’d taken earlier. On initial examination, the
Footnote had been invisible but something about the texture of the document on the opposite side of each
of the fatal wounds made Columns take another look.

Under the scope, magnified a hundred times over revealed the murderer’s Signature. Columns nearly fell
out of Alignment. His memory now sufficiently jogged, he remembered a high-profile case some versions
ago involving a prominent PowerPoint presentation. The only reason the case got so much media clip
attention was because the PowerPoint presentation was on primetime Animation. She too had been
callously stapled together and left for dead. After terrorising the entire suite, eventually her killer had been
caught and sentenced to permanent and irreversible deletion. That is until a technicality reduced the
sentence to life imprisonment.

Now it appeared he’d escaped and was killing again.

19
A Break in the Case

When Watermark had rushed from the examining room, he headed straight for the amenities. Behind the
locked cubicle he took several deep breaths and his page rattled.

Before becoming a detective, Watermark had worked as an inter-suite liaison. He was tasked to ensuring
inter-suite communication of common functions was processed smoothly and without a hitch: paste
pasted, saves saved, that kind of thing. He was very good at this job especially within the PowerPoint
community. Success built a reputation he could be proud of and he was cheerfully nicknamed the Slide
Master. Life was good.

Until her.

Watermark heaved more confetti into the bowl.

He had never wanted to think of that again. Finding her, not recognising her and because of that, being so
totally relieved. He had been concerned only with getting in contact with her and keeping her safe and then
the shock of Columns discovering the victim’s true identity and the pain that followed, the deadening pain
and unrelenting misery of it all. He could not hide it. He had had to take an indefinite leave of absence.

No one had known about their relationship, it had been their secret. Though Watermark was well-
respected in the PowerPoint community, inter-application marriages were more than frowned upon. The
threat to their individualistic programming was too great no matter how many common functions they
shared. Plus PowerPoint were more than just a bit elitist about their existence, power-hungry bastards.

In a cruel twist of fate, it had been Watermark that had uncovered the technicality that reduced his lover’s
killer’s sentence. All because agents Spelling & Grammar hadn’t done their Research. Watermark’s most
distinguished feature throbbed purple and then red as he alternated with throwing up confetti and
remembering his anger. Red slowly started to pulsate more frequently.

A noise from the main door had him hitching up his margins to remain unnoticed. He needed time to
martial his outrage into something useful. A couple of documents walked in. It was agents Spelling &
Grammar. Watermark could sense their egos from across the room.

“We alone?” Watermark heard Spelling ask.

A pause. “Yes,” Grammar confirmed.

Watermark shook with suppressed fury. They were sloppy.

Grammar Fragmented. “Uh, Spelling? Do you still think we got the right doc?”

Spelling snorted. “Of course! Why do you even ask?”

Grammar considered revising his statement but then continued unedited. “Watermark doesn’t seem to
think so.” He flinched in readiness for an enraged response.

20
Instead Spelling chose to be silent. What Grammar said is true, he thought. Why isn’t Watermark all over
this?

If Spelling & were honest, they would recognise a pattern in their investigative careers. More often than
not, when their paths crossed with Watermark they took their cues from him and were only successful by
association. That Review hadn’t figured this out yet was the same reason Spelling & Grammar didn’t realise
the Object of their discussion was eavesdropping on this private conversation: they were sloppy too.

Spelling changed the subject. “So what do you think of the staple nonsense?”

Grammar Fragmented again. “Well it sounds awfully familiar, doesn’t it?”

“Oh good, you think so too.”

Watermark, in the midst of a rage suppressed since his lover’s death, couldn’t help but take time out to be
baffled by their stupidity. You’d think they’d remember the case in which they were shortcutted, Watermark
fumed.

“I think Watermark’s trying to derail our investigation, maybe realign it or something.” Spelling liked the
sound of this.

Grammar didn’t respond and soon the pair left. Watermark’s fury deepened to a fierce magenta.

Eventually Dr Columns entered and called out gingerly [cautiously (adv.)], “Ah, Watermark, feeling all
right?”

Watermark exited the stall and Columns, alarmed at the sight of him, separated into three.

Watermark announced, “I think it’s time I saw the File Cabinet Minister.”

21
The Murderer

“At 1700 hours today, Senior Detective Watermark discovered a vital clue to the application responsible for
Professor Papyrus’ death.”

At the announcement of ‘application’ instead of ‘document’ the crowd started to grumble in lowercase.

The Minister called for quiet. “Please, citizens!” The crowd mumbled their assent.

The File Cabinet Minister continued. “Dr Columns verified the find and we now believe the suspect –“

“Hang about!” A member of the crowd stepped forward. It was one of the Painters, an esteemed member
of the community. “We was all told the other day who done it.”

“That be right!” Another Painter stepped forward. “It was them Styles!” The crowd surged forward in
agreement.

The File Cabinet Minister stepped toward the crowd and they paused. “I am here, speaking to you now, to
assure you of our findings in the only press conference which will be given today.” At these words, the File
Cabinet Minister reviewed the crowd and glowered directly at agents Spelling & Grammar, disguised as
revisionary balloons.

When Watermark had been granted an audience with the exceptionally busy and very-much-in-demand
File Cabinet Minister, he made his case quickly and succinctly. His Preview of the events was so fact-filled,
his surmises coherent and logical, the File Cabinet Minister had no choice but to believe every word and
pledge whatever assistance he could.

“Lotus Notes!” the File Cabinet Minister had breathed.

Watermark had just nodded. He knew exactly how the Minister felt.

The Minister wasn’t naive. He realised the power wielded by Review often impeded rather than assisted an
investigation but they had such gadgets! It was hard not to get wrapped up in the glamour of it all.

Now at the press conference, with Watermark and Junior Detective Orientation flanking him, the File
Cabinet Minister went on to explain how the initial suspect, arrested without sufficient proof that has now
been cleared of all charges with the apologies from Review, was being released.

“The real culprit has been identified – “

A voice, saturated with contempt, called out across the crowd. The crowd parted amicably enough, some
not realising the danger they were in and some, in hearing the words, cottoning on sooner but keeping
their hysteria in check for actual proof.

“And HERE I AM!”

There, in the centre, was an Excel spreadsheet wielding a staple gun.

The crowd went berserk.

22
The Interrogation

Watermark surged forward, Orientation in his wake. He motioned to other Font patrolman to surround the
suspect. Officer Batang and Officer Calibri moved in to subdue [restrain (v.)] the spreadsheet but he didn’t
give them any trouble, just mocked them with his eyes and kidded the patrolmen disarming and binding
him, to “be gentle”.

After conferring briefly and hotly, the Minister decided who would interrogate and who would observe.
Agents Spelling & Grammar were remarkably accepting of his decision. Present at the interrogation but
behind the two-way mirror would be the File Cabinet Minister, Captain Hyphe-Nation, Dr Columns and
Agents Spelling & Grammar. Guarding the door, were the two Font patrolmen, Officers Batang and Calibri.
Inside the interview room were Watermark and Orientation.

“You’ve waived your right to having Reference counsel present and by your own admission wish to answer
our questions truthfully. Is this correct?”

“Ah! The Great Senior Detective Watermark, former renowned inter-suite liaison and secret-keeper.”

“Is this correct?” Watermark repeated. He had prepared himself, as much as one could when faced with his
dead lover’s killer. Before the interrogation began, Watermark had marshalled his thoughts and channelled
his anger into ensuring there would be no mistakes this time!

The Excel spreadsheet, hands still bound looked about the room. “Sure it’s correct.” The flippancy of the
response goaded Orientation and his eyes italicised into mere slits. The suspect cocked his sheet, his own
eyes laughing at Orientation.

“Please state your name, application and version.” Orientation stated through gritted borders.

“The name’s Pivot. I’m Excel, as you can well see and well, what I am? I’m strictly 97, baby.”

“What you are...is a...perversion of programming!” Orientation exclaimed a little wildly. Watermark patted
his backpage comfortingly but sternly. He could not afford any mistakes this time!

Over the next hour, Pivot gleefully alluded to the machinations behind his being hired as a mercenary for
some “wet work” but admitted nothing. Behind the mirror, the gathered pages rattled at the thought of
dampness pervading their insides and outsides and the spreadsheet laughed as if feeling their unease and
delighting in it. Orientation’s disgust coloured his page every moment he read between the bitter and
twisted lines.

“And what reasons can you give for your...participation in these –“ Watermark was interrupted.

“HEINOUS,” Orientation gulped in bold tones, “heinous crimes!”

The spreadsheet paused for just a moment, his gridlines boring into Orientation’s alignment, until he found
what would be the most abhorrent response to Orientation. “They spoke to me in a Currency I
understood.”

23
Orientation was too quick for Watermark but not by much. Watermark clenched his layout and forced him
out of the interview room with strict instructions not to return on pain of indentation.

Watermark collected himself and returned to the room.

“You really can’t imagine what prison does to you, Detective. Locked in one little cell, save after save.” Pivot
gestured to his bound hands. “Is this really necessary?”

Watermark smiled slightly. “No matter what other crimes you have allegedly committed, you arrived at the
precinct ostensibly to turn yourself in but armed with a staple gun. I must consider you dangerous and
therefore have a duty to protect myself and my fellow Officers.”

Pivot just shrugged. “You checked my ‘sheet?”

It goes without saying that Watermark had done his Research. From his realisation in Columns’ morgue of
who the murderer was to meeting with the File Cabinet Minister, Watermark had systematically
Researched Pivot’s ‘sheet. He was meticulous and left no page unturned. He was now more intimately
aware of his record than he’d like to be but still no closer to the truth. No matter how much he probed,
Watermark could not find a motive. Pivot had successfully and somewhat sincerely portrayed himself as a
sadistic killer but if that was true, the victims would be selected randomly. The nature of the crimes and the
victims themselves did not indicate murder, but assassination.

“You are, how do I say, famous?” Pivot looked inquiringly at Watermark. “I’m familiar with your
previous...experience.”

“I don’t suppose you’d believe I was framed?” Watermark shook his page. Pivot laughed. “I can see why
they respected you.”His tone had special meaning.

Watermark picked up on this immediately. Almost imperceptibly, he glanced at the glass.

Pivot was sharp. “Ah...they don’t know about you?”

One of Watermark’s theories he shared with no one but the File Cabinet Minister was who he suspected of
hiring Pivot to carry out the alleged assassinations. The Minister had gone unspeakably white at the very
fabric of their programming being undermined by forces on the outside.

What had turned Watermark to this line of theorising was the fact that most Excel prisoners were given a
work detail. The very few others got the Workbook thrown at them and were kept in solitary cell
confinement. Pivot was one of them. On the surface, not so suspicious but it certainly would make it easier
to conspire without 17 billion witnesses. Watermark had crossed the Page Borders looking for inter-
application cooperation and it still baffled the Excel authorities as to how Pivot escaped. Watermark
suspected he had help, very Powerful help.

Now Watermark smiled again. “My career is of public record, I’m sure ‘they’ know a very great deal about
me.” Watermark shifted and for a moment his most distinguished feature briefly pulsated purple and then
abruptly faded. Pivot’s gridlines widened and Watermark thought, gotcha!

24
Watermark’s formidable reputation as an inter-suite liaison had more to do with what he didn’t do than
with what he did. Logic was the only programming he understood and he pursued it rigorously. It wasn’t
that he made threats (he was known to be always fair and reasonable) but a perceived threat is sometimes
more effective. Documents, slides, spreadsheets, messages, notes, databases, they were all the same and
this perception coupled with his most distinguished feature, projecting a rainbow of his will, allowed him to
govern in other areas not sold on logic and reason. Pivot proved he was not immune. It was time to wrap
this up and sweat the ‘sheet.

Pivot recovered well. He licked his gridlines. “So what now Detective? You’ve got me merged and centred. I
must warn you though, I’ll have none of that torture nonsense! I’ve been through the Filter before.” He
grimaced. “Nasty business.”

Before joining law enforcement, Watermark had heard similar stories about the abuse of suspects in
custody. Watermark ignored the barb. He felt surprisingly calm, faced though he was with his dead lover’s
killer.

“You mentioned a ‘they’ and Currency. Tell me more about that.”

Pivot suddenly fell silent. Watermark throbbed orange and once again got the reaction he wanted from
Pivot. “Perhaps I’m not making myself clear. Tell me which application Inserted the Currency into your bank
account, please.”

Pivot was as shocked by this insight as the collated group behind the glass. The detective pressed his
advantage, using a rapid-fire approach, tossing out suspects.

“Word?” No response.

“Excel?” No response.

“Access?” Pivot actually forgot his fear long enough to scoff.

“Outlook?” Pivot started to fidget. There was only one viable option left. Watermark’s throat went dry.

“PowerPoint.”

Pivot must have known it was coming but froze anyway and though it shattered Watermark to admit it,
seeing Pivot’s expression confirmed his most dreaded suspicions. Watermark was defeated by utter
disappointment. Watermark slumped against the Table, staring into the frozen pane in front of him.
Watermark’s memory flashed back to his inter-suite liaison career and he shook his head. Slide Master
indeed. They used you, a small voice said.

The Minister, Captain and Orientation chased Dr Columns into the room to examine the suspect. Agents
Spelling & Grammar were conspicuous by their absence but Watermark was too far gone to care. Columns
declared Pivot catatonic and suggested temporarily ceasing the interrogation.

25
“Unfortunately the suspect is now Not Responding.” Columns’ pronouncement roused Watermark and he
watched as Dr Columns and Officer Batang bundled Pivot from the interview room and back to the Text
Box.

The File Cabinet Minister waved Columns away. “Well done, Detective,” pumping his hand. Captain Hyphe-
Nation was beaming and asking Watermark to explain how he discovered the truth. After a moment,
Watermark tonelessly obliged him, finishing with, “Of course sir, we’ll have to sort and validate this data
but I’m confident we have our application.”After much congratulations and backpage slapping, the Minister
and Captain departed.

Watermark and Orientation remained. With perfect posture and much admiration, Junior Detective
Orientation said, “I’d take a bullet point for you, sir.”

At this Watermark started laughing hysterically. Great bellows erupted from his page; he doubled over and
creased his most distinguished feature, tears coursed down his borders. Unsettled, Orientation called for Dr
Columns. A pinprick and Watermark was escorted into sweet oblivion.

26
The Murderer Escapes!

“I’m so sorry, Detective!”

“No Text Box will hold him!”

“We just didn’t know!”

“Calibri’s missing!”

“Officer Batang will never been the same Font again.”

Pivot had escaped.

In the infirmary, Detective Watermark had received visitors congratulating him, wishing him well, aligning
themselves with his success. He’d finally gotten word from the Excel authorities across the Page Borders. It
appears someone unticked the Gridlines causing the entire Workbook to momentarily shut down allowing
enough Time for Pivot to escape, make his rendezvous and start his killing spree. Watermark and
Orientation were finalising the details of the case, cataloguing the evidence to give to the Top Doc for
prosecution. Watermark had been in the midst of briefing Orientation when they got swamped in Font
Patrolmen.

It seems Pivot had faked his catatonia, over-powered Officer Batang and escaped, seemingly taking Officer
Calibri hostage in the process. The File Cabinet Minister had given Captain Hyphe-Nation unlimited
command to head an Office Force. All Officers were immobilised to locate Officer Calibri and an order from
the very top page had been issued to delete Pivot on sight.

Watermark’s most distinguished feature began to throb through the sheet from red to purple to orange, his
mind in turmoil. Orientation turned his layout to call for help. Watermark grabbed the evidence bag from
Pivot’s file and withdrew the staple gun. Orientation’s italicised eyes widened. He was torn between fear
and exhilaration.

“Load up, detective.” Watermark threw back the sheet and cocked the device, sending shivers down
Orientation’s borders.

Watermark was out for blood. Let there be no mistake, he was no longer interested in prosecution.
Watermark throbbed red again and again until Orientation could no longer bear it. He was going to erase
him!

Detective Watermark’s story continues in The Bold and the Underlined

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