It's what some of us call radio." Bennett continued. "The term really comes from the old days when people could listen to radio dramas, comedies and variety shows in darkened living rooms. The glow of the dial on the old Philco, that sort of thing. But there is another part of The Dark Art that I have noticed in recent years." Bennett rose from the chair and walked to the windows of the conference room. Large, boney hands disappeared into the back pockets of his jeans and he looked at the line of studios that was visible through transparent walls.
"People listen to the radio ready to pounce. I counsel those who want to do this silly job to be ready. You are now a target, I tell the kids. Even the veterans need reminding. Your biggest fan is predisposed to despise you, yell at you while driving on the expressway, and call you every name in the book." Bennett turned, his face twitched into an odd smile that melded into his usual sullen expression. He pointed, without looking up, toward the acoustic tiles and the recessed lights in the ceiling.
"We have dozens of satellites shooting hundreds of radio shows down to cities all over the world, and every one of them, every no-talent buffoon with a microphone is falling all over himself trying to out gross, out shock or out disgust the next guy. Whether you're talking about some guy who practically has sex on the air, having strippers measure his dick with a ruler, to another pair of geniuses who compel people to do profane and dangerous things for a t-shirt, to the guy who slaughters an animal under the pretense of proving a point." The programmer leaned his knuckles on the conference table. "There is no point to it. It's become de rigueur, detectives, a constant circus, ugly and perverse, with all nine rings of hell in every car, every kitchen every willing ear."
Maybe it wasn’t hyperbole, Jeffries thought.
Jerome Bennett sat down–a weight seemed to push him down–he took a deep breath. "Do I think a clown like Kradich could be involved in murder? Why not, Chief? This business is murder."
-Exceprt from The Radio Murders: The Caller
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