Only the Strongest Survive

by Ian Fox

  He boasted so much that, later, one of his friends said, “Listen, George, I’ve got some money. Why don’t you buy shares and bonds for me and increase my capital, and I’d give you a share of my profits?”

  George gave him a surprised look. “I don’t know if I can do that.”

  He told Emely about the suggestion and she waved it off. “It’s not quite that simple.”

  But she thought about it during the night.

  “Listen, George, why not?” she said the next morning. “Why don’t we sign a contract stating that we manage his capital? Banks and other stockbroking companies do it, why shouldn’t we? If he wants to invest his money, let him. Our risk is minimal.”

  George stared at her. He didn’t know when he began finding her eyes so beautiful. A number of times now he had caught himself thinking about kissing her on the mouth while he was gazing into her eyes. Coming back to reality, he blinked and said, “Yes, why not?”

  Not having this type of contract ready, Emely sent George to one of the stockbroking companies under the pretext of investing some money. She then copied the contract he was given, almost word for word.

  George’s friend came into the office the same afternoon. “I’d like to increase my capital by 100 percent in a year.”

  “Slow down there,” Emely said. “The greedier you get, the higher the risk.”

  His eyes became wide. “What risk? George never mentioned a risk.”

  Emely walked to the coffee machine. “Would you like a coffee?”

  “Yes, why not, thank you.”

  “Good. Let me tell you this. If you want a 10 to 15 percent increase in a year, the risk is small. We’ll specify in the contract a portfolio of investments the highest proportion of which will consist of secure papers. Do you understand?”

  “Not really. Portfolio?”

  “It means specific shares of individual securities. For example, your portfolio will contain 15 percent government bonds, 10 percent speculations in foreign exchange, 30 percent of bonds in large corporations, and the rest in shares.”

  “I see, it’s getting clearer now.”

  Emely smiled. “So, a larger proportion of money that you want to invest in high-risk securities means a higher risk that your capital could even decrease by the end of the year.”

  “But also a greater possibility of increasing greatly,” the young man said.

  “Yes, that possibility does exist.”

  “Now I really don’t know what to do.”

  Emely said, “This is what we’ll do. The contract will specify a portfolio that doesn’t involve a very high risk and the profits will be between 20 and 30 percent a year. What do you think?”

  “But George talked about a 100 percent increase.”

  “He exaggerated a bit. But think about this—which bank can give you 20 to 30 percent interest?”

  He kept thinking hard and his bottom lip bled from being bitten. The thought of entrusting his money to this woman didn’t seem the best idea. But on the other hand, as things stood he’d have to keep saving for at least another two years before he could buy a better car. He tried to calculate how much sooner he could do this if his money was invested by Emely’s company and realized that he would avoid a year of arduous saving.

  “I know you’re confused,” Emely said. “Perhaps you should sleep on it.”

  “No, I’ve decided,” he said quickly. “Let’s sign the contract now.” He pulled a bunch of banknotes from his pocket.

  “Whoa, put that money away,” Emely said to him. “You’ll have to go to the bank and transfer it to my company account. That’s not a problem, is it?”

  He smiled too.

  This young man was Emely’s company’s first client, but at that time she wasn’t aware that she would have other clients. Every end of the month, he received a statement. He was pleased with his monthly profits and the final value of all the papers kept growing even more than Emely had promised, which pleased him tremendously. He could barely wait for the mail delivery on those days. And then he bragged about how smart he was to have invested his money in a stockbroking company.

  Soon, another client appeared. He was an older man, and at first Emely thought he was an inspector. In fact, he was the young man’s neighbor, who put on his best clothes when he came to invest his hard-earned savings. His voice was shaking when he said, “I heard you do portfolios.”

  “Excuse me?” Emely said.

  “Well, I’d like to invest some money, but the bank interest rates seem too low.”

  “I see,” Emely said, relieved that he wasn’t a market inspector. Not being fully familiar with all the legislation applying to investments, she feared any type of inspection. “How much would you like to invest?”

  “Three thousand dollars.”

  It’s better than nothing, she thought. She explained to him everything about investing in securities, as she did to George’s friend.

  “I’ve been saving this money for ten years. I hope you don’t lose it.” He looked at her reproachfully. “If you do, I’ll find you. You won’t be able to get away from me.”

  Emely didn’t know what to say. For the first time she became aware that if she was going to do business for other people, she’d have to be a great deal more careful than when it was her own money. She could see in his eyes that he had had to give up many things in order to save those three thousand dollars. His suit was at least thirty years old.

  “Don’t worry. I suggest you take a 15 percent annual growth. That way the risk is very low.”

  “OK,” he said, and signed the contract.

  *

  In about a week another client came, and then another and another, until Emely was forced to employ someone whose only responsibility was to take care of contracts.

  *

  She’s so smart, George thought as he drank his beer. But I’m not good enough for her.

  “It’s time you found someone more serious,” Alex told him.

  “What?” George refocused his thoughts on his colleague.

  “I mean a steady girlfriend. You’re nearly thirty. How long are you going to wait?”

  He was asked such questions a lot and they were beginning to get on his nerves. George wanted Emely; other women were of no interest to him.

  “I’ll find one sometime,” he would say. But he had to admit to himself that he was getting worried about his future. He was obsessed with Emely and aware of this. But on the other hand, I never go anywhere, so how can I meet anyone?

  He was used to being alone and this didn’t bother him most of the time. Only sometimes in the evening, he felt lonely.

  *

  Robert Miles was listening to Lara Paris, who was happily relating this story, but his thoughts were elsewhere. His readership was falling. While at first, people would almost fight for every issue of the weekly with his articles in it, the current surveys showed only 70 percent still read them.

  When he went back to the office, his boss cornered him. “Listen, Miles, it’s time you finished the stories about Emely Donnovan. People are fed up with reading about her.”

  But Miles didn’t want to end it yet. These ungrateful people! When it was announced that she had disappeared, she became a star overnight. But now hardly anyone talks about her.

  “Perhaps I should write something fictional about her,” Miles said.

  The editor leaned on the doorframe and thought for a while. “I don’t know if it will help. And her relatives could sue us. The fact is, her story is already forgotten and people are expecting something new.”

  “People are always expecting something new. I’m going crazy thinking about something new to write.”

  The editor gave him a strange look and said, “It’s your job, Miles, and you’ve been doing it very well until now. I’ll give you a chance to write just one more article about Emely Donnovan, and then the story is finished.”

  “Only one?” Miles said with despair. “But I’ve only started wr
iting about her.”

  “Listen, you’ve been writing about this woman for three months. I admit the articles were popular in the beginning, but that’s in the past now. Understood? It’s time for something new.”

  Miles stared into empty space, feeling anger brewing inside him. At such moments he wished he had a lot of money so he could start his own paper. Then I could write what I want to write, he thought, while out loud he said, “OK, OK, I’ll write the last article about her.”

  *

  That evening when Miles was sitting in front of the television, he had an idea. Of course, how come I didn’t thing about this earlier? He jumped out of his armchair and poured himself a drink. I’ve got to write something shocking about her.

  Chapter 16

  _______________________

  Emely had a feeling that only an hour and a half had passed when the alarm went off. Oh no. He’s changed his mind. Damn it, I knew he’d never let me go.

  Her heartbeat doubled. Within a flash she pulled back the cover and got out of bed. She noticed Kitty slowly approaching the door, growling slightly. Hmm, she’s never growled before.

  Emely picked up the dog and tried to calm her by stroking her neck. Emely heard the door being opened and closed noisily. He must have forgotten something.

  She could hear footsteps on the stairs, which meant he had searched the ground floor and was on his way upstairs. He stayed there for a while. For nearly fifteen minutes he kept slamming doors and then descended the stairs to the basement.

  Maybe it’s the police, she thought. Didn’t he say they’d come in the morning? Who knows, maybe he changed his mind on the way and called them so that I don’t have to wait all night. My kind John.

  The metal handle on the door moved. The door shook, but the lock didn’t yield. At that moment all the air left Emely’s lungs. She put her hands on her mouth and nearly screamed. What if it’s Ronald?

  She turned off the light, but immediately realized she had made a mistake and put it on again. If it was Ronald, he must have seen the light escaping through the gap under the door.

  She put Kitty on the floor and the dog started barking ferociously.

  Emely whispered, “Oh no, stop!”

  She picked her up again and began looking for an object with which she could defend herself, realizing in horror that there was nothing apart from the chair. With her hand on her mouth she stared at the door, praying it would not open. Both she and Kitty were shaking.

  The footsteps moved away from her room. Emely stood motionless, trying to decipher the sounds coming from upstairs. She prayed that it would be anyone but Ronald. He’s looking for the keys.

  Soon he was in front of her door again. A short silence was followed by a loud bang, which made Emely jump back. She looked around the room for anything she could use. Whoever it was, was hitting the door more and more violently and she was horrified to see the blade of an ax that had found its way through the wood.

  She couldn’t keep quiet any longer. Standing by the wall and trembling in fear, she screamed, “Who are you? What do you want from me?”

  But there was no reply.

  He was again attacking the door. That was her answer.

  “Help!” she shouted, even though she knew there was no point.

  The blade of the ax was advancing through the thick door. She begged God to help her, covering her ears against the loud noise—she could not bear to hear it. Finally the door was smashed. And then she saw him.

  Chapter 17

  _______________________

  Blake Crouse sat behind his desk, tired from a difficult day. He felt he had aged ten years since taking over the leadership of the Donnovan Corporation. These damn meetings and negotiations all day long. I can’t take it anymore.

  He wanted a vacation, somewhere by the sea so that he could walk along the beach and forget all the problems, but he knew it was impossible. Even as it was, he couldn’t accomplish everything he had to do in a day.

  He picked up his appointment calendar, prepared for him for the next day by Maria. His first meeting was at seven in the morning. Damn it, let it all go to hell. Oh, the mess you dragged me into, Emely.

  His eyes were closing when the phone rang. How many times have I told Maria to lower the volume on this thing. “Hello!” he nearly shouted into the phone.

  “It’s Alexandra. I’d like to talk to you.”

  She’s all I need. Their relationship had deteriorated during the last few weeks. “Yes, no problem, but not today. My head is about to burst.” He got a glass of water and emptied it in a single gulp.

  “No, this is crucial. It can’t wait till tomorrow. We’ve got to meet now.”

  “What could be so important that it can’t wait until tomorrow?”

  “I’ll tell you. I’ll be in your office in a few minutes.”

  “Hang on …” He wanted to say to her to tell him over the phone, but the line was dead already. “Oh, let her go to hell.”

  He had heard that for a while now she had been spreading rumors about his inability to manage the company. He knew she wanted his position, wanted to be the next CEO.

  Once when she was absent from a meeting, he had had enough, and said, “Then, let Alexandra become the CEO if that’s what she wants so badly.”

  The meeting room echoed with disapproval.

  “But why not?”

  “Alexandra can stay where she is,” someone on his left said. “Not everyone can be a CEO.”

  “Perhaps it would work. We can’t …”

  The rest of his sentence went unheard due to the angry protests that erupted among the members of the management board.

  “It’s alright, you know. I’m sick and tired of various insinuations that I'm not up to the job.”

  “Listen, Blake,” the human resources manager said, “so far there have been no negative effects of your leadership. The numbers confirm that the company’s growth is 8 percent a year. We’re all very happy with you and see no reason to put someone else in your place.”

  Everyone nodded.

  “But—”

  At that moment Alexandra walked in. “I apologize for being late, but I had a minor accident and then had to wait ages for a taxi. I suggest we start.”

  Everyone looked around the room and then someone began with the first subject on the agenda.

  And now, he thought, this stupid woman will argue with me again.

  “I don’t know how you could sign a contract with Agona,” she shouted at him as soon as she sat down in his office.

  The moment he heard her voice, he felt as if someone had pressed directly on his brain. “Listen, Alexandra, I have no intention of explaining my decisions to you.”

  “They’ve already misled us once. I don’t know if you’re up to date with everything, but we’ve been involved in a lawsuit with them for the last two years.”

  That pain in his head again. “Of course I know, I led the case myself.”

  “Then you should know that they owe us two million dollars.”

  “Yes, my dear Alexandra,” he said cynically. “The problem is that you don’t know that there has been a change in management and that they’re ready to settle their debt within two months.”

  “I think they’re buried in debt and everything they do is a lie.”

  Blake looked at his watch in order to let her know he had no intention of arguing with her much longer. “We’ll see. I think it’s prudent to give them a chance.”

  “And I think it isn’t,” she said sharply.

  Blake said, “Listen, Alexandra, I don’t give a hoot about your opinion. I don’t know if you realize this, but your job is to deal with accounting matters and not to manage the company.”

  “I’m quite clear about my place, but I’m not so sure that you’re aware of the negative consequences of your decisions. I’d like to help you—”

  “Oh, I know how you want to help me. And what negative consequences are you talking about?” His head
was going to explode.

  “For example, your decision about a general 7 percent pay increase. Do you know what that means?”

  “Of course I know. It means that people will earn more. Which means they’ll be more content and more productive. And besides, there hasn’t been a pay increase for two years.”

  “Of course there hasn’t, it means a lot of money. You don’t seem to realize that 7 percent means our expenses will rise by up to five million dollars. Have you thought about that?”

  That was it. “If you’re really bothered, say something at the next management board meeting or call a meeting of the supervisory board. I’m asking you to leave my office now and never show up in here again without being invited.” His voice was strict and firm, which didn’t happen often.

  She looked at him angrily for a while, and it was clear that she was about to explode as well. Then she got up and left, slamming the door so hard that Blake had to bite his tongue to drown the pain in his head.

  “Let her go to hell,” he said out loud. He picked up his car keys and left the office.

  Chapter 18

  _______________________

  “Well, hello there, Ms. Donnovan. I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

  With horror Emely stared at the small, rotund figure. Her worst nightmares had become reality. Ronald stood in front of her, out of breath due to his exertions of breaking through the door. He held the ax in one hand.

  Kitty desperately wanted to escape from Emely’s arms and was growling frantically.

  “I suggest you restrain that animal or I’ll turn it into a couple of steaks with a single blow.”

  Where’s John? she wondered.

  To her surprise, Ronald discarded the ax and took a wrinkled handkerchief out of his right front pocket to wipe his sweaty brow. Just as she thought of grabbing a chair and hitting him on the head, he pulled a revolver from his back pocket.