Excuse me, love, youre in the wrong department, the young staff smiled, eyeing the new recruit. They hadnt yet realised Id bought the firm.
Who are you talking to? the lad behind the desk snapped, never looking up from his phone.
His trendy haircut and logosplashed hoodie shouted confidence and indifference in equal measure.
Ethel Anderson adjusted the modest, sturdy satchel on her shoulder. She had dressed deliberately to stay unnoticed: a plain blouse, a kneelength skirt, sensible flats with no heels.
The former director, Gregory a greying, weary man whose business she was about to acquire gave a respectful smile as she outlined her plan.
A Trojan horse, Ethel, he said. Theyll swallow the bait without seeing the hook. They wont crack it until its a bit too late.
Im your new colleague in Documentation, she replied, her voice calm and deliberately lacking any hint of authority.
At last the young man lifted his gaze. He scanned her from head to toe worn shoes to neatly brushed grey hair and a thin, unmasked grin flickered across his face. He made no effort to hide it.
Ah, right. We heard thered be a new hire. Got the security pass? he asked.
Yes, here it is.
He lazily tapped the turnstile with his finger, as if pointing the way for a lost compass.
Your desk is somewhere down the hall, at the far end. Figure it out.
Ethel nodded. I will, she thought, marching toward the buzzing openplan space that resembled a beehive.
She had been untangling her life for forty years. She had rescued a nearbankrupt business after her husbands sudden death, turning it into a profitable venture.
She had navigated complex investments that later multiplied her capital. She had learned not to go mad with loneliness in a vast, empty house at sixtyfive.
Buying this thriving, yet, in her view, internally rotting IT company was the most intriguing puzzle she had faced lately.
Her desk sat at the very back, near the archive door. An old, scratched surface and a squeaky chair made it look like an island of the past amid a sea of shiny technology.
Settling in alright? a sweettoned voice asked from above. Standing before her was Olivia, head of Marketing, impeccably dressed in an ivorycoloured suit.
She exuded expensive perfume and success.
Im trying, Ethel replied with a soft smile.
Youll need to sort the contracts for the Altair project from last year. Theyre in the archive. I dont think itll be difficult, Olivia said, her tone patronising as if assigning a task to someone with limited ability.
Olivia gave her a look the way one admires a rare fossil. As she left, clicking her heels sharply, Ethel heard a quiet snigger behind her:
Our HRs gone off the rails. Soon theyll be hiring dinosaurs.
Ethel pretended not to hear. She turned toward the development wing, pausing at a glass meeting room where a few young men were heatedly debating.
Miss, looking for something? a tall bloke called out as he rose from his desk.
It was Steven, lead developer a future star of the company, at least according to his own résumé.
Yes, dear, Im after the archive, Ethel answered.
Steven smiled and turned to his colleagues, who watched the scene like an impromptu show.
Grandma, you seem to belong in another department. The archives over there, he waved vaguely toward her desk. Were busy with real work, stuff youve never even dreamed of.
A murmur rippled through the group. Cold, steady anger rose in Ethels chest.
She stared at their smug faces, at Stevens pricey watch. All of it was bought with her money.
Thank you, she said evenly. Now I know exactly where Im headed.
The archive turned out to be a cramped, windowless room. Ethel set to work and quickly located the Altair folder.
She methodically flipped through the papers contracts, annexes, certificates. At first glance everything seemed in order, but her seasoned eye snagged on the details. The sums in the contractors invoices for CyberSystems were rounded to the nearest thousand a sign of either laziness or an attempt to conceal true figures.
The descriptions of services were vague: consultancy, analytical support, the usual schemes for siphoning funds she recognised from the nineties.
A few hours later a nervous girl appeared in the doorway.
Good morning. Im Lucy from Finance. Olivia mentioned you might need help with the system. No access to the electronic database, I gather? Lucy asked, her voice free of any condescension.
Thank you, Lucy. That would be very kind of you, Ethel replied.
Its no trouble. They just dont always understand that not everyone was born with a tablet in hand, Lucy blushed, explaining the programmes interface.
While Lucy was guiding her, Steven burst back in.
I need the contract with CyberSystems, urgently, he demanded, as if issuing an order.
Good morning, Ethel said calmly. Im just reviewing those documents. Give me a minute.
A minute? I dont have a minute. I have a call in five. Why isnt this digitised? What exactly do you all do here? he snapped.
His arrogance was his weak spot. He believed no one, especially an older woman, could challenge his work.
Im on my first day, Ethel answered flatly. And Im trying to fix what was left undone before me.
She picked up her phone and dialled her personal solicitor, Arthur.
Arthur, good afternoon. Could you check a company for me? CyberSystems. I have a feeling theres something odd about its owners.
The next morning the line rang.
Ethel, you were right. CyberSystems is a shell company registered to a certain Mr. Petrov, who happens to be the cousin of your lead developer, Steven. Classic scheme, Arthur reported.
Thanks, Arthur. Thats all I needed to know.
The climax came after lunch, when everyone was summoned to the weekly meeting. Olivia beamed as she spoke about the latest achievements.
Oh dear, I forgot to print the conversion report. Ethel, she announced, voice amplified by the microphone, could you please fetch the Q4 folder from the archive? And try not to get lost in there.
A low chuckle rippled through the room. Ethel rose calmly. The point of no return was already crossed. She returned a few minutes later; Steven stood beside Olivia, whispering conspiratorially.
And theres our saviour! Steven declared with feigned warmth. We need to work faster. Time is money. Especially our money.
The word our was the final straw.
Ethel straightened, shedding her slump. Her gaze turned cold and unflinching.
Youre right, Steven. Time truly is money. Especially the money thats been funneled through CyberSystems. Doesnt it seem this project benefits you personally more than the company?
Stevens smile vanished, his face tightened.
I I dont quite follow, he stammered.
Really? Then perhaps you could explain to everyone here who this Mr. Petrov fellow is? Ethel asked.
A heavy silence fell. Olivia tried to intervene.
Excuse me, what relevance does this employee have to the companys finances?
Ethel didnt look at her. She circled the table and took her place at the head.
I have a direct relevance. Allow me to introduce myself: Ethel Anderson, the new owner of this company.
If a grenade had exploded in the room, the impact would have been less dramatic.
Steven, you are dismissed. My lawyers will contact you and your relative. I suggest you dont leave the city for a while, she continued, her tone icy.
Steven slumped into his chair as if the air had been sucked out of him.
Olivia, youre also being let gofor professional incompetence and for creating a toxic atmosphere, Ethel added.
Olivia exploded. How dare you!
I have every right, Ethel replied curtly. You have an hour to gather your things. Security will escort you out.
The same applied to anyone who thought age gave them a licence to be ignored. The receptionist and two developers were also shown the door.
A genuine shock settled over the office.
Over the next few days well undergo a full audit, she announced.
Her eyes landed on Lucy, who stood at the far end of the room.
Lucy, could you come over, please? she called.
The trembling girl approached.
In two days youve become the only one whos shown both professionalism and plain humanity, Ethel said. Im forming a new internalcontrol department and Id like you to join my team. Well discuss your new role and training tomorrow.
Lucy opened her mouth, speechless.
Youll manage, Ethel assured. Now, everyone else, back to work. The day is still on.
She turned and walked out, leaving behind a shattered illusion of hierarchy.
She felt no triumph, only a cool satisfaction, like the calm after a job well done. To rebuild a sturdy house, you must first clear the rotten foundation.
And that, she thought, was just the beginning of her thorough overhaul.
