Serializing a new novel.
Chapter 2 and 3
Eli Barton sat in his office. He looked out through a small
window to the supermarket floor below. Everything was in
order. The checkout girls sat in their blue uniforms. The
customers lined up with full shopping trolleys. All his life
Eli had worked at selling food, first in his father's little
grocery store, then at each new branch that he opened up, and
now, as the head of this vast supermarket chain that had
recently gone public.
He had prepared his son to take over one day. First he had
sent him to an exclusive boarding school near Boston. There
he not only received an excellent education, but he mixed
with boys from the most important families in America. Now he
was a young man, no longer a boy, and he was studying at the
famous Harvard business school. He had made sure to provide
the boy with every material benefit there was.
Sending his son away just after he turned thirteen had caused
his wife to plead that the boy stay home, but Eli had
prevailed. Looking back it seemed to him that the decision
had been a correct one. There had been no trouble in adapting
to Harvard. Many of his school friends were there. The
transition had been an easy one. Soon his son would join the
firm. Eli looked forward to that day.
Fred Smith, his new assistant, walked in. "This is your
itinerary for the trip to the Amazon Rainforest," he said,
placing a folder onto the desk.
Eli took the folder. "Right. Anything else to sort out before
we leave?"
"Well there is the matter of the proposed merger. I think it
is a feasible idea. They are waiting for an answer."
"I have turned it down twice. Surely that's answer enough,"
said Eli.
Fred Smith once again launched an extensive monologue about
the advantages of the merger. Eli listened impatiently for
some minutes and then cut him short.
"Yes, yes. You already said all that. Look. I don't accept
your assessment of their financial situation. I felt they
would be a burden to the company, not an asset. The subject
is closed. I have gone along with you on making our charity
this year one working with environmental issues. I agreed
with you when you went on and on about my wife coming along.
In business we work on compromise. You can't get you own way
all the time. Anything else you want to discuss?"
"Just this check. It is for your regular monthly drawing, to
give your wife for her work with those people: three thousand
dollars." Fred had chosen the time and prepared the check
carefully. There was enough space to add extra zeros on the
check. Not only that, but Fred had used a special pen with
easily-erasable ink. Eli was about to leave for an important
meeting. Eli glanced at the check, and signed it.
*
Fred Smith walked to his office. He sat down at his desk and
carefully changed the check from three thousand dollars to
three million dollars. There had been an uneasy moment when
the old man had commented about the spacing, and how it would
be possible to change the amount, but thankfully it had not
been followed up by any action.
Next he walked to the bank. There he presented the check and
wrote out a form to transfer the money immediately to a newly
created Swiss bank account. The bank clerk issued the
receipts without any queries. Fred gave a sigh of relief.
Now he walked to a small park and sat on a bench. After some
moments a man sat on the same bench. He looked at Fred and
received a slight nod. He said, "Here, you seem to be sitting
here with nothing to do. Take my newspaper, I'm finished with
it, better than sitting staring into space."
Fred recognized the words, and took the newspaper. Only when
he returned to his office did he open it carefully and
extract the three thousand dollars lying there. These he
placed into an envelope and handed to Eli Barton. There was
no bank slip to cover the amount withdrawn and he hoped that
his boss wouldn't start questioning him about that.
There was a silence for a moment as Eli counted out the
money. Then he said, "Where is the bank deposit slip?"
Fred pretended to look for it, feeling in one pocket, then
another. Eli lost patience. "Here, write down `3,000 dollars
drawn.' Now date it and sign it. Good business practice means
accounting for every amount spent."
Fred wrote as he was told. Eli took the paper from him and,
folding it, placed it with the money.
Fred gave a sigh of relief when he returned to his desk. He
had gotten away with it. Three million dollars was in a Swiss
bank account. He had followed the instructions he had been
given and they had worked.
Now he thought about the next steps he would have to take.
The man had said to him, "If the old fool doesn't agree to
the merger, then he won't return from Brazil. Not him and not
his wife. It's all arranged. As soon as it is done, you come
back here and then you can go off to Switzerland and live
nice and cozy on that three million."
If ever anyone thought to query that slip of paper, he would
be far away, living a life of luxury and ease.
Well, Fred thought to himself, he had done his best to
persuade Eli to agree to the merger. It wasn't his fault if
all he got was stubbornness. His reward for getting the
merger would have been one million dollars. This way he would
get threefold that amount. He wouldn't dwell on the fact that
something less than pleasant had been prepared for Eli and
his wife, far away in Brazil.
