Authors: gren blackall
Tags: #brazil, #coffee, #dartmouth, #finance, #murder, #nanotechnology, #options, #unrequited love, #women in leadership
“No
wonder he’s so cocky to tell me everything! Too bad McKinsey,
I beat you to it!”
Sketches
of a plan quickly formed. She searched the filing cabinet behind
her. A key dangled in the lock of one drawer, which she opened
quietly. Leafing madly through the folders, she found one marked
AL5 Program
. She scanned the contents. “This is it!”
About to close the drawer, she couldn’t help noticing another
marked,
H. Bishop
, thick with papers and folders. She
recognized a few of her research papers from Dartmouth. An official
document on Clorice Coffee stationery caught her attention with
Employment Contract
written in bold.
It was the
agreement to make her President of Clorice Coffee. She added it to
her pile. She stashed them all in the back of her jeans, and let her
shirt billow over the top. She ran back to her seat, just as
Clorice opened the door. Clorice’s face beamed with
excitement.
“Oh,
how discourteous of me, Etty. Let me find you a more comfortable
place to sit.” He turned back to the door, and motioned her
to follow. She walked stiffly, hoping the folder’s corners
were not visible. Clorice clapped vigorously to gather a cadre of
servants. He delivered orders enthusiastically. “Miguel,
bring a bottle La Tache, 1961 from the cellar. Sali, some Stilton
cheese from the reserve cask. Monique, have the down filled chairs
delivered immediately to the deck. There’s no rain in sight
and I want absolute comfort.”
He
also turned to a man Etty had frequently seen by Clorice’s
side, a private valet. He ordered him more quietly, but not
concerned that Etty could hear, “Tell Milpeau I want the
President picked up promptly at 8:00am tomorrow and brought to his
quarters. Remind him to begin the warm up procedure tonight - he’ll
know what to do.” Then, with a bounce in his stride, he led
Etty down a long hallway. “Oh, Harriet, you are so foolish
not to join me.”
Although
focused on her next move, she kept up her rebuke to avoid suspicion.
“How can you be happy? You are about to order the
destruction of economies around the world. With them go the people
who built those industries, their futures, their families. Many
will suffer. Some will die. Your methods are despicable.”
“I
don’t usually allow such criticism. But coming from you, I
enjoy it.”
“What
will become of me?”
“I
will allow you to leave, tomorrow. That is a promise.”
Two
men carried a large couch onto the attractive ocean side deck. More
followed with other chairs and ottomans. Miguel delivered a silver
tray with burgundy glasses and a dusty bottle. Sali carried in a
tray of cheese, surrounded by delicate crackers. Before Miguel
could remove the cork, Clorice waved him away. “I’ll do
the honors tonight.” The help quickly disappeared.
A
cat jumped up on one of the chairs next to Etty, and settled in a
regal pose. “My finest wine,” he boasted. He poured a
small amount carefully down the side of his glass, then swirled the
red liquid under his nose. He sipped, rolling the wine across his
tongue with smacking lips. “Truly magnificent.”
He
poured Etty a third of a glass, then his own. He settled into the
soft couch, then reached over to pat the cat. “If only you
were a human, Liona, maybe you would be my next President.”
This
strange man’s behavior was becoming surreal and distant. He
slumped over the cat, caressing the nape of its neck, all while the
President of Brazil lay frozen in a vault - a storeroom packed with
poison cargo waited for delivery - and her own execution had been
ordered. She sipped the exquisite wine. She pulled apart a
crumbling hunk of Stilton and balanced it on a light cracker.
John
Clorice still had one thing she wanted. He might be one of the few
people alive who knew of her family. Even if this day would be her
last, she needed to know. “I still don’t understand why
my father would commit suicide.”
“Where
did that come from? You should forget these things. So much time
has passed. Let it be. The wounds have healed.”
“I
had no wounds until you put them there.”
“I
will not allow mockery.”
“I
want the truth. It’s all I ask.”
Clorice
studied her beautiful, sincere eyes. He swirled his glass while
forming his response. “Your father ... he was a good man. And
he may well have become one of the world’s finest business
leaders. But the soul can twist your thoughts, and lead you to poor
decisions. We all contemplate unthinkable acts. He, sadly, carried
his through to a tragic end. Does that satisfy you?”
Not
at all, she thought. Clorice had already told her he was part of an
advisory board for her father’s company during it’s last
days. Knowing him as she now did, she distrusted any involvement he
had with Von Enes. But his comments, assumed to be of the last she
would hear, were shallow and courteous. She wanted more.
For
the moment, She ironically felt safe. It was unlikely he’d do
more than wait for the bacteria to release. She had nothing to
lose. She decided to draw it out of him.
“Johannes
Von Enes frightened you - with his move from manufacturing to coffee
producing. A competitor with his superior mind and ability must
have shaken Clorice Coffee to the roots.”
Clorice
placed his glass on the table. “I never feared him.”
“Oh
yes. I’m sure a person of your exaggerated ego found his
greater intellect intolerable. You feared him, and you used the
cheapest form of dominance to push him aside - you destroyed his
business. I just want to know what base methods you deployed to
pull it off.”
His
face reddened. “You have no right to accuse me!”
“Did
he catch you at one of your monstrous schemes? What made you ruin
one of the great firms in the world? A Dutch company? Did he see
through your pathetic pretense of untouchable genius?”
“I
beg your pardon! I told you! He over extended their purchasing
power. Our bank had no choice but to demand the loan. We ...”
“Your
bank? You owned the bank that extended the credit?”
“I
am a board member, and significant stock holder. We
lent
him funds, not ... “
“You
lent money, then demanded the loan? You forced him to return the
money? After how long?”
“A
year, maybe less.”
Etty
slumped back in disgust. “So this is it. A company develops
an expansion plan, that in retrospect showed vast foresight.
Columbia continues to be the fastest growing coffee region on earth.
He would have needed five years at the least to establish the
plantations, build the infrastructure, hire the manpower. You,
above anyone, can appreciate this. But no, you pulled his loan
before a year. Of course he failed. You forced it.”
“This
is an outrage. I don’t need to hear any more of this.”
“You
ruined my family, John Clorice. I suspected it all along, but now I
know how. Did you kill him too?”
A
servant motioned him into the house. He thankfully stormed out.
Etty
hastily began her plan. She reached over and rubbed the cat’s
fur up and down, digging in to collect a film of animal dander on
her fingertips. Of all her many allergies, cat dander produced the
most violent reaction. She massaged her eyelids, purposely touching
the tender inner skin. Instantly, her eyes itched, and began to
water.
Clorice
returned with another broad smile. When he noticed Etty’s red
eyes, he checked his watch. Etty wanted to laugh, knowing exactly
what he was thinking, that McKinsey must have set off the frequency
fifteen minutes early. “What’s happened to you?”
She
lowered her head and half closed her eyes. She rendered a messy
cough. “I’m suddenly feeling sick. Maybe it’s
that strong cheese. It feels like some kind of reaction.”
She coughed again, purposely spewing some phlegm on the floor in
front of her. Her eyelids, and the actual whites of her eyes,
puffed up and oozed water and mucus.
“Let
me get you some help.” Clorice hurried into the house. Etty
looked out one last time at the cool black sea under the star filled
sky - such a peaceful start to what was surely to be a chaotic,
maybe deadly evening.
Still
alone, she pushed two fingers down her throat and vomited on the
deck floor. She bent over in her chair, with her head between her
legs, seeming to be only half conscious. Clorice returned with two
guards. He commanded his workers harshly, keeping far back. “Don’t
bring her any closer to the house. Use the beach stairs. Take her
to one of the abandoned field hand huts. Don’t let her cough
on you. And have someone clean up this mess as soon as possible.
Take the chair to the beach and burn it.”
Etty
had to compliment herself for superb acting, as they half dragged
her down the stairs - the second time she had outwitted her
adversaries with a feigned illness. She labored to pick her head up
as they walked along the beach, occasionally groaning.
Soon
she found herself alone, face down on dirty wooden planks. The
flimsy door remained ajar. Aside from the grunting from a nearby
pig corral, she heard no sounds of guards. Outside in a mostly dirt
courtyard, a hand water pump stuck up with a small bucket attached.
She searched left and right, then ran out to pump some water into
her hands to wash her eyes and face.
She
needed to escape, somehow break through the tightly secured
perimeter. She decided the best strategy was to wait until the wee
hours and then try to find a thinly watched section of fence. The
risk was great, but far better than the certain death awaiting her
in the morning. She returned to the hut to pass a few hours.
After
a restless hour of sitting, standing, and looking out the door, she
heard footsteps. She resumed her crumpled over position on the
floor and began some light groaning. The door opened. A woman
gasped and ran to her. She rolled Etty onto her back. It was Anna.
“Ittie! What has happened! What have they done!”
Etty
opened her eyes, and sighed with a smile. “Anna, oh Anna, you
shouldn’t be here. You must leave me.”
“I
surely not will leave you! You need help. You must see a doctor!”
Etty
sat up and hugged Anna’s shoulders as she kneeled next to her.
“You are so kind to come, Anna, but I am fine. I need no
doctor. You have to believe me, it is not safe for you here.”
“They
told me to stay away, that this whole area is off bounds for the
rest of the evening, but I came. I came to help you when I heard
you were sick!”
“Anna,
I don’t know how much to tell you. I am not sick.”
“You
are not? They said you would be dead by morning!”
“No.
I am fine. You cannot tell anyone of this. It’s a long
story, and the less you know, the better for you. Thank you for
coming, Anna, but you must go. And never say you were here.”
“This
is about John Clorice, no? He has much evil in him, Ittie. I know.
We all know. We are afraid to say.”
“Yes.
I know too. He is insane with greed.”
“We
know unspeakable things of him. And yet we support him.”
Anna bowed her head in shame.
Etty
touched her shoulder. “You have not done wrong, Anna. You do
what you are told, and with excellence. You should be proud.”
She recalled Milpeau’s comments on the beach.
Anna
smiled. “Thank you. But Ittie, it is dangerous to escape from
this place. The fences have alarms. And remember, this is an
island.”
“I
never said I was escaping.”
“Anna
is no fool.”
A
chicken or other animal must have entered the gathering of pigs. A
sudden ruckus of squealing and oinking pierced the calm evening.
Etty’s first reaction was to fall again to the floor, but Anna
stopped her. “No Ittie, that is not the sound they make for
people.”
Etty
sighed, but wondered. “Could you send those pigs into the
fence?”
“Why?”
“To
cause a distraction, you know, so they don’t know where I am
if I try to cross.”
Anna
raised her hand. “Wait, there is one way. There is a small
gate to the dock. It will be locked, but you might be able to climb
over the metal door. You will find boats there.”
“And
I will not set off alarms?”
“No,
that place is locked but not wired. It’s the guard’s
secret place for a smoke and some peace.”
“Show
me.” Etty stood and wiped the grime from the cabin door off
her clothes. Anna stood out of reflex and brushed her back. “Anna,
you don’t have to do that!”
“I
like to help you, Ittie. I want you to be safe, away from this
place. I would do anything for you.”
“I
might need the pigs too, just in case.”
“I
will help how I can.”
“If
something goes wrong, can you get them to set off the fence alarms?”
“I
think. I will chase them myself with a stick if I have to. But
they will send dogs, Ittie. Dogs know pig from girl.”
Etty
removed her shoes. “Here, take my socks. Tie them on a pig’s
foot. Use two pigs. They’ll leave a scent. The dogs may be
confused. Don’t do it unless you have to. And be careful,
Anna.”
”Oh!
You are so smart, Ittie. Come.” She laid the socks on a
tree limb, and led Etty across the little courtyard to the base of a
small dirt path through the thick brush. “Up there. Stay on
the path. There’s a ‘V’ - go to the right. You
will see the gate.”
Etty
wrapped her arms around Anna’s waist and hugged hard. “Thank
you Anna. I will always remember you.”
Anna
sniffed slightly. “Be careful with the boats, Ittie. It’s
a deep water bay on that side. Do not go in the water. Dangerous.”