Who are you talking to? the lad shouted from behind the reception desk, his eyes glued to his smartphone.
His designer haircut and logosplashed hoodie screamed selfimportance and total indifference to anyone around him.
Elizabeth Anderson tugged at the plain but sturdy satchel on her shoulder. She had dressed deliberately to blend in: a modest blouse, a kneelength skirt, sensible flats with no heels.
The former managing director, George a silverhaired man exhausted by office politics, with whom she had just sealed the purchase of his company smiled when she laid out her plan.
A Trojan horse, Miss Anderson, he said respectfully. Theyll swallow the bait without seeing the hook. Theyll never crack you not until its too late.
Im your new clerk, in the documentation department, her voice was calm and low, deliberately stripped of any authority.
At last the young man gave her a proper look. He scanned her from head to toe from the scuffed shoes to the neatly combed silver hair and a thin, unhidden grin flickered in his eyes. He made no effort to hide it.
Ah, right. They said thered be a new starter. Got your pass for security?
Yes, here it is.
He lazily jabbed a finger toward the turnstile, as if pointing the way for a lost compass.
Your workstations somewhere back there, at the far end of the hall. Figure it out.
Elizabeth nodded. Ill manage, she thought, stepping toward the buzzing openplan office that resembled a beehive.
Shed been untangling the mess of her life for forty years. Shed rescued a nearbankrupt business after her husbands sudden death, turning it into a profitable venture. Shed wrestled with complex investments that eventually doubled her capital. Shed learned how, at sixtyfive, not to lose her mind alone in a sprawling empty house.
Buying this thriving yet, in her gut, rottinginside IT firm was the most intriguing of her recent unravellings.
Her desk sat at the very end, next to the archive door. Old, scarred, and creaking, it looked like an island of the past in a sea of gleaming tech.
Settling in okay? a sugary voice floated above her. It was Olivia, head of marketing, dressed in a perfectly pressed ivory suit.
She wore expensive perfume and the aura of triumph.
Trying my best, Elizabeth replied with a soft smile.
Youll need to sort the contracts for the Altair project from last year. Theyre in the archives. Shouldnt be too hard, Olivias tone dripped condescension, as if assigning a task to someone with limited abilities.
Olivia gave her a look the way one might regard a remarkable fossil. As she strode away, clicking her heels, a quiet chuckle floated from behind Elizabeth:
Our HR departments gone off its rocker. Soon theyll start hiring dinosaurs.
Elizabeth pretended not to hear. She needed to keep moving.
She headed for the development wing, pausing at a glass meeting room where a few young lads were heatedly debating something.
Miss, looking for something? a tall bloke called out as he rose from his seat.
Stanley, lead developer, the companys future star as his own résumé claimed. The résumé, of course, being selfwritten.
Yes, dear, Im after the archive.
Stanley smiled, turned to his colleagues who were watching the scene like a freetowatch show.
Love, youre in the wrong department. The archives over there he waved vaguely toward her desk. Were busy with real work here. Work youve never even dreamed of.
A murmur rippled through the onlookers. Elizabeth felt a cold, steady anger rise in her chest.
She stared at their smug faces, at the pricey watch on Stanleys wrist. All bought with her money.
Thanks, she answered evenly. Now I know exactly where to go.
The archive turned out to be a cramped, windowless room. Elizabeth threw herself at the task. The Altair folder appeared almost immediately.
She sifted through the papers methodically contracts, annexes, certificates. At first glance everything looked proper. But her seasoned eye snagged on the details. Figures in the contractor CyberSystems invoices were rounded to the nearest thousanda classic sign of either laziness or an attempt to hide the real sums.
The descriptions of work were vague: consultancy services, analytical support, process optimisation. The same old moneymoving tricks shed seen in the nineties.
A few hours later the door creaked. A girl with frightened eyes slipped in.
Good morning. Im Leah from finance. Olivia mentioned you were here youre probably struggling without access to the electronic database? I can show you how it works.
Her tone held no trace of superiority.
Thank you, Leah. That would be very kind of you.
Oh, no bother. Its just that well not everyone was born with a tablet in their hand, Leah blushed, a little embarrassed.
As Leah walked Elizabeth through the software, Elizabeth thought that even in a swamp there could be a clean spring.
Before Leah could leave, Stanley burst back in.
I need the contract with CyberSystems. Its urgent.
He spoke as if issuing a command to his subordinates.
Good day, Elizabeth replied 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 yet? What on earth are you doing here?
His arrogance was his Achilles heel. He was convinced no one, especially an old woman, could challenge his work.
Its my first day here, she answered evenly. And Im trying to fix what wasnt handled before I arrived.
I dont care! he snapped, strolling over and snatching the needed file without ceremony. Its always your lot, the old guard, causing problems.
He stalked out, slamming the door. Elizabeth didnt follow him. Shed seen enough.
She pulled out her mobile and dialled her personal solicitor.
Archibald, good afternoon. Could you check a company for me? CyberSystems. I have a feeling the owners are interesting.
The next morning her phone rang.
Miss Anderson, you were right. CyberSystems is a shell company registered to a certain MrPetrov. Coincidentally hes the cousin of your lead developer, Stanley. Classic pumpanddump scheme.
Thanks, Archibald. Thats all I needed to know.
The climax came after lunch. All staff were gathered for the weekly briefing. Olivia beamed as she outlined the latest achievements.
Oh dear, I seem to have forgotten to print the conversion report. Elizabeth, her voice, amplified by the microphone, carried a cold snicker, would you be so kind as to fetch the Q4 folder from the archive? And please, try not to get lost in there.
The room filled with muffled laughter. Elizabeth rose calmly. The point of no return was already crossed. She returned a few minutes later. Stanley stood beside Olivia, whispering conspiratorially.
And heres our saviour! Stanley declared with forced warmth. We need to work faster. Time is money. Especially our money.
The word our was the final drop.
Elizabeth straightened, the slump disappearing from her shoulders. Her gaze turned icy and unflinching.
Youre right, Stanley. Time truly is money. Especially the money thats been siphoned through CyberSystems. Dont you think that project has become more profitable for you personally than for the company?
Stanleys face hardened, his smile vanished.
I I dont quite follow what youre getting at
Really? Then perhaps you could explain to everyone here who this MrPetrov fellow is?
A heavy silence settled over the room. Olivia tried to intervene.
Excuse me, what relevance does this employee have to the companys finances?
Elizabeth didnt even glance at her. She paced slowly around the table and took the head of the meeting.
I have a direct stake, allow me to introduce myself. Elizabeth Anderson, the new owner of this firm.
If a grenade had gone off in that room, the impact would have seemed milder.
Stanley, she continued in a frosty tone, you are dismissed. My lawyers will be in touch with you and your relative. Id advise you not to leave the city just yet.
Stanley sank into his chair, as if a weight had been lifted.
Olivia, youre also dismissed. For professional incompetence and fostering a toxic environment.
Olivias face flushed.
How dare you!
I have every right, Elizabeth replied curtly. You have an hour to collect your things. Security will escort you out.
The same applied to anyone who thought age gave them a licence to be ignored. The young receptionist and two developers were also shown the door.
A genuine shock rippled through the office.
Over the coming days well undergo a full audit, she announced.
Her eyes landed on Leah, who was standing at the far end of the room.
Leah, please come forward.
The girl, trembling, approached the table.
In just two days of work youve become the only one to show both professionalism and plain humanity. Im setting up a new internalcontrol department and Id like you to join my team. Tomorrow well discuss your new role and training.
Leahs mouth fell open, speechless.
Youll manage, Elizabeth said confidently. And now, everyone else, back to work. The day is still on.
She turned and left, leaving the shattered illusion of seniority behind.
She felt no triumph, only a cold satisfaction, like that after a job well done. To rebuild a solid house, you first have to clear the site of rot.
And that, she thought, was just the beginning of her sweeping overhaul.