Only the Strongest Survive (5 page)

“I’m going to have to disappoint you here.
Emely never spoke much about her private life. She was a
businesswoman through and through.”

“
I
see.”

The
officers got up and walked toward the
door.

Blake
lifted the receiver and said to his secretary,
“Maria, let the police have everything they need. Then let them use
the small meeting room as a base. Call off all of today’s
meetings.”

Benotti and Wilson nodded in gratitude.

*

When Blake
was driving home in his new limo that night, strange thoughts were
going through his head about what he said to the police:
Is it true that the company has no
business enemies?
He then recalled a
recent incident after which security had to be strengthened because
a business partner had lost his temper and attacked the chief
accountant. He had grabbed his collar, almost choking him. And that
was not the only incident.
But
who could have done something like this?

Since
he was exhausted, he decided to go straight to
bed and think about it in the morning, when he was
fresh.

Chapter
3

_______________________

The
Langdon brothers were silent as Ronald steered
them through the dark woods. They stared straight ahead.

Ronald
though
t that justice had been done, but
his heart was still pounding. Never in his life had he experienced
anything like it. When Emely was tied to that tree, screaming, he
had felt an incredible surge of sexual desire. The more she
resisted the more aroused he became. An unbelievable burst of
energy forced the blood through his veins, as if he had taken some
strange drug. He was shaking. For the first time in his life he
felt really strong. He felt he was in control, and this feeling
completely overwhelmed him. He regretted that it all finished too
soon. His hands were still trembling slightly from all the
excitement.

In contrast
to
Ronald, John had some regrets about
what they had just done. Not that he felt guilty because of the
murder, but Emely had somehow endeared herself to him.
It’s a shame about that bitch.
His thoughts returned to what she had said:
“John, I’ve never enjoyed it so much …”

No woman,
apart from the prostitutes he occasionally went with, had ever said
anything like that to him. He
guessed
that women enjoyed it but didn’t want to admit they did. But Emely
was the first to admit it. He thought about her perfect body,
remembered her perfume. And then those words: “I think you’re much
more capable than your brother. You should have been the one in
charge of your company ….”

How right she was. Of course I’m the smarter one.
Then he started thinking about his brother.
Ronald had always been more communicative and before John managed
to see the situation, Ronald had already taken the helm of their
company.
I should have been
more forceful, stood up to him
, he
thought.
But it’s too late
now.
He looked angrily at his brother’s
plump face.
This damn loser.
He destroyed everything. I should have got rid of him long
ago.
He looked ahead again, clenching his
fists, as his mind drifted back fifteen years.

*

“
I
can’t do this math,” John moaned, supporting his
head with his left hand.

“
You’re not
the brightest spark,” Ronald said, standing near him, “but luckily
you have a smart brother who’s gonna help you.”

From the
kitchen chair,
John looked up at him
gratefully.

*

One
day
John joined a volleyball team. During
one of the games, the ball took him by surprise and he punched it
in completely the wrong direction.

“
My younger
brother sometimes find
s it difficult to
grasp simple things,” Ronald told everyone present. “See, John, the
rules say that you have to hit the ball over the net.” He pointed
to it with a perfectly serious expression on his face.

John looked
down in embarrassment and couldn
’t wait
for the scornful eyes to look away.

*

Once
, when Mother had sent them
to the store, Ronald happily played ball with his friends while
John did the shopping. He was so angry at his brother that he
forgot to get the three things that Mother most wanted. When they
came back home, she berated him firmly.

“It’s my fault,” Ronald said. “John finds it
difficult to remember things. I made a mistake. I should’ve been
with him.”

*

He
always seemed
so nice,
John thought.
But humiliating me all the time …?
John looked at his brother again and felt hatred toward him
for the first time in his life.
How on earth have I been able to stand it for so
long?
The drive seemed endless. Agitated,
he kept running his fingernails along his pants.

*

Finally
they
arrived at the house. Their father
had bought the place for weekends, and in addition to their own
real estate, it was the only thing left from the inheritance that
they hadn’t had to sell for financial reasons. The problem was that
it would be difficult to find a suitable buyer. It was like a
mansion, with ten fully furnished bedrooms. It was deep in the
woods, completely isolated, nearly ten miles away from the nearest
neighbor.

While their
father
was still alive, the land around
the house, measuring over ten acres, was covered with a veritable
botanical garden. However, the numerous decorative plants had now
been replaced by thorny creepers. The beautiful cypresses that used
to be trimmed into cubes and spheres grew every which way, as if
competing at which could look the wildest. Most of the trees that
had been planted had dried up and been replaced by more resilient
ones. The tall stone wall was the only thing that distinguished
this private land from the wild woods surrounding it.

Ronald got
out of the car,
stretched, and yawned.
“I’m tired. I’ll head straight home.”

John looked
at him and replied in a sharp voice, “I don’t feel like driving
home, I’ll sleep here tonight.”

“
As you
wish,
Johnny, but I don’t think you’ll
like it here alone.” He waved goodbye and climbed into his
car.

John looked
after him and the f
arther away Ronald
got, the better he felt. “Let him go to hell!” he said aloud to
himself. When the noise of the car engine had completely faded, he
listened to the morning noises in the woods, accompanied by the
howling of the wind. He felt slightly lost, without energy. He took
one last look in the direction his brother had gone and took a deep
breath. There was a tension in the pit of his stomach.
I need some sleep. I’ll feel better
then.

He
went
upstairs and without realizing it
walked to the room where Emely had stayed. When John opened the
door, he could smell her perfume. The tension in his stomach
doubled.
It really is a shame
about that bitch. Why did she have to be so greedy?
He thought about everything she had taken from
them and felt the hatred, concluding,
She deserved what she got
.

He closed the
door and set off for his room which was only a few yards away. He
glanced at his face in a round wall mirror. His eyes were swollen
and the sleepless night
had left clear
traces.
The face of a
murderer,
he thought.

He
looked
away and sat on the old bed that
creaked under his weight, running his fingers through his
hair.
Why did you have to be
so damn greedy?

The thoughts
refused to leave his head. She had bewitched his
mind, which so badly needed a rest.
I’ve never enjoyed it so much … I’ve never enjoyed it
so much ….

“
Damn it!” he
swore and set of
f for the bathroom. After
a long drink of cold water, he spent a minute rinsing his face. He
felt a bit better afterward, returned to his room, and lay on the
bed. He closed his eyes.

I’ve got two million dollars in
my personal account in Switzerland ….

He turned on his side.

I think you’re much more capable than your
brother… I’ve never enjoyed it so much…

He opened his
eyes and spent some time looking through the window. It was seven
o’clock by now and birdsong
intruded into
his thoughts, which were in her room, remembering how he had his
way with her when he was drunk. He was deliberately rough with
women, thinking that was the right thing to do. Gentleness was for
weaklings, and he was not weak.
Never.

He thought
about her perfect body and kept smelling her perfume.
Let her go to hell!

Once again
he
closed his eyes.

You seem like a very smart guy, unlike your
brother…
. In fact I think you
should have been in charge of your company instead of him …. I’m
serious, John. What use is my life to you if you continue to be
broke?… We could make a deal. … I just want to say that I have two
million dollars in my personal bank account in Switzerland. No one
knows about it.

John
opened his eyes wide, spurred by a great idea.
It threw him out of bed like a cannonball. In three seconds flat he
had his shoes on and was running down the stairs.
Where have I put that damn car
key?
His eyes scanned the house like a
laser.
Oh, I remember. In the
pocket of my leather jacket.

He ran
back to his room, skipping several stairs at a
time.

When the car
keys were in his hand, he breathed a sigh of relief. He ran out of
the house witho
ut closing the front door
and got in his car. Impatiently he turned the key and pressed on
the gas pedal as soon as the engine was on.

His erratic
path threw t
he rear of the car left and
right. John was gripping the steering wheel firmly and driving over
thirty miles an hour along the rough forest road.
I hope she’s still alive… I hope
she’s still alive…
he
repeated.

Chapter
4

_______________________

In the
morning
the streets were foggy and
deserted when Robert Miles drove to
News Continental
, his workplace
for the last eight years. It was half past five. He hadn’t been
able to sleep and decided to get to work earlier than
usual.

Robert had
just
begun to make a mark as a
journalist. More and more often people would call and ask for him.
He was praised for writing realistically and not wasting
words.

As he walked
through the door
way of his office, he was
surprised to see a light in the editor in chief’s office. He walked
over and said, “Good morning.”

“
Oh,
Robert. What brings you here so
early?”

“
I couldn’t
sleep and decided to do something
useful
rather than toss in bed until seven.”

“
Very
commendable
. Grab yourself some
coffee.”

“Of course, thanks.”

The
editor watched him leave and then already deep
in thought, the editor stroked his bushy mustache and thick gray
hair.

*

Three hours
later the
editor opened a meeting by
saying: “The police have announced some shocking news that will
shake up quite a number of our readers. It’s about the
businesswoman Emely Donnovan, who has disappeared for reasons
unknown. Initially they thought she had been kidnapped, but it has
since transpired that she has simply disappeared. The only trace
left is her sports car that was found by the side of the
highway.”

The name
seemed familiar to them all, but no one wanted to show himself up
by asking about her.

The editor,
as if read
ing their minds, said, “So far
not much has been written about her. Just the odd piece here and
there. She came from a very poor family—perhaps even from a foster
home—can’t remember exactly. What’s interesting is that she
established a small company that within a very short period of time
grew into a huge corporation.”

He picked up
a pint
-sized glass filled with water.
After he had taken three long sips, he said, “This is a unique
opportunity. Miles, can you do a piece on Emely Donnovan? I seem to
remember you went to Donnovan Corporation not long ago, trying to
persuade them to invest in a promotional piece. Am I
wrong?”