Birth of a Monster by Daniel Lawlis Page A

Janie’s mood no doubt currently shared a great deal
with her married surname. But when a man’s got a list of chores, he
has no choice but to keep marching through them.
     
    He walked into his store, which he had
neglected for weeks if not months—he had too much on his mind to
stop and calculate—and was glad to see faithful Robert there
attending to customers and managing everything
splendidly.
     
    Righty waited respectfully for him to
finish and then flipped the “Please Come In!” sign to “Please Come
Back Soon!”
     
    With a motion of his head, he beckoned
Robert towards the back room.
     
    “Everything running
smoothly?”
     
    “Yes, sir,” Robert said, confidently,
and then handed Righty a list of certificates of deposit that he
had made at Righty’s bank account over the last several
weeks.
     
    “Impressive!” Righty said sincerely.
“And costs?”
     
    “We’re definitely in the black,” Robert
said, handing him a series of weekly reports.
     
    Righty looked over them and whistled
approvingly.
     
    “You’ve got a golden thumb, young
man.”
     
    “Thank you, sir.”
     
    “Are you interested in more
responsibility and more pay?”
     
    “Absolutely,” Robert replied, not
pausing a second.
     
    Righty put a stack of money on the
table.
     
    “Here’s $500,000. Ten thousand will be
yours as a bonus just for all the extra hassle. I’ve been meaning
to set up a similar store in Sivingdel, but things just keep coming
up. I don’t want this store to bear my name, because crime is
getting rather nasty these days, and so I don’t necessarily want to
be easily linked to this store or any future ones we might
open.
     
    “I’m satisfied with one eponymous
store,” Righty said chuckling, referring to Rich’s Groceries &
Hardware. “I’m thinking this one should just be called Groceries
& Hardware. You can use the same connection for inventory—Mr.
Hoffmeyer—but don’t tell him I’m the owner. If he asks who the
owner is, just say, ‘He prefers to remain anonymous.’”
     
    Righty was beginning to have a deep
distrust of Mr. Hoffmeyer, now that he thought back on his brazen
offers to perform money laundering services.
     
    “In fact,” Righty said, “Find a
different inventory supplier for the new store.”
     
    “Yes, sir,” Robert asked.
     
    “Okay, here’s how pay and
responsibilities are going to work. I am making you head manager of
both stores. You can hire and fire. You can set pay and people’s
hours. You know how to run a store profitably, and that’s what
matters. Your pay is hereby increased to $80,000 annually to be
paid monthly. Get receipts for all hotel costs while you’re staying
in Sivingdel, and find some place nice.
     
    “If you make this new store run like
the old one, you can expect more stores and more pay. Any
questions?”
     
    “Mr. Simmers . . . THANK YOU!” Robert
said.
     
    “You’re worth every falon. Just don’t
let me down,” Righty said.
     
    “You’ll have another profitable store
soon. I promise.”
     
    “Well, I suppose I better reopen for
business,” Righty said. “Thanks again.”
     
    He extended his hand, and Robert shook
it.
     
    Why can’t I find more people
like Robert in my other organization? Righty asked himself, as he walked briskly out of the store,
cringing at the thought of what kind of tempest he might find at
home.
     
    Robert was having a bit of trouble
standing on two feet. His head felt light, and the room seemed to
be spinning. He shook it off and went back to work.
     

Chapter 22
     
    Somehow, from the moment Righty stepped
foot inside his home, he knew things weren’t going to be half as
bad as he expected. In fact, although he begrudged excessive
optimism, maybe they would just be so-so. He had faced enough
gale-force tongue lashings in his day to get a sense of what was to
come from the moment he stepped inside the house.
     
    He heard cooing from the living room,
which meant Janie was here. And