IF LOVE WERE A FLOWER
Under Pressure
Erik did not have the time to prepare any elaborate scheme. He decided this time he had just one chance and that would be best used with brutal honesty. So he asked Mr. Singer for a meeting. Mr. Singer was not happy. He already mistrusted Erik and was convinced that Erik would come up with some entirely unacceptable idea.
Well, it was exactly that. Erik asked Mr. Singer to sell him the rest of his shares.
"No! You are clearly out of your mind, freak!" Mr. Singer snapped. Too late he realized that he was alone in his office with Erik and Erik was standing between him and the door.
"Mr. Singer," Erik replied politely trying to keep his temper in check, "Let me explain it to you in a way even you can't misunderstand: For the past three years I've been your slave. Now you can choose to either sell me your shares or be my enemy. I guess I must not inform you that being my enemy might prove to be fatal for your health."
"Like Mr. Meyer?" Sam Singer asked with much more bravado than he actually felt, he was pale, almost as white as snow, "Did you kill him?"
Erik shrugged. "You want to try your luck?"
"You want to cross the Boss?" Mr. Singer shot back.
"You think I'm just bluffing?" Erik replied calmly. He wondered himself how he could pretend to be so calm when inside he was fighting not only his own fear but also the terrible battle between the necessity to survive and the needle picks of his conscience, knowing he should better avoid more bloodshed.
"Even if I was willing so sell - you couldn't pay. What do you have except debts?"
Erik remained calm. "That's got nothing to do with you!"
"As long as you pay!" It would have sounded better had Mr. Singer not been shaking so much.
Erik sighed. He could not just kill Singer, that would get him nowhere for if Singer's family inherited his shares of the company, who knew what they might do - given that other businessmen were already furious because he had bought the other theater they would likely outbid him should he try to buy the shares from Mr. Singer's widow. And he could only bid what he could get as a loan from a bank. Of course he would have to lie to the banker and tell that he had no other debts. Then he would have to offer his shares - likely all of his shares, even those he already had in his possession, as security. Or maybe the building, but since the building belonged to the company it would be one and the same, wouldn't it?
"I'm a businessman, Mr. Singer, not a monster," Erik replied, "And of course I understand that you want a proper price for it. Think of it, Mr. Singer, you would have much time to see your family, wouldn't you? The money I would pay for your shares would be enough to allow you to retire, wouldn't it?" He paused, giving Singer time to think. "It is a fair deal, isn't it?" Erik added as an afterthought.
Mr. Singer gave this some thought. "Well... If you find someone who is stupid enough to actually give you a loan," he said thoughtfully, "Okay. But I will stay in the penthouse and I want a salary as consultant."
"Of course. I guess I can benefit from your expert knowledge and of course I can't be in two theaters at the same time. I would prefer to leave the adult shows in the other theater to you," Erik answered. He knew he needed the erotic and horror shows because they brought in much more than the others, but he hated them.
"If you provide the music, design and choreography, I'd be happy to do the rest..." Sam Singer replied thoughtfully, thinking of how much he could earn. He began to like the idea that Erik would take all of the risk and he would just have the comfortable position of a well-paid consultant.
"I'm sure," Erik groaned, "We just need to decide which theater we want for the family shows and which for the... others."
Sam Singer gave it some thought. "And if I do not agree - what are you going to do then?" he asked and crossed his arms, "Kill me?"
Erik gave a weary smile. "If I don't kill you to get your shares the Boss kills me - to be honest, what choice do I have now?" He thought of his plan to get close to Bruno Riccy which had failed terribly. Of course, Bruno Riccy had granted him some freedom - but of course not to cut short Riccy's income. So, what was he to do? Trying to take on Bruno Riccy and his gang of thugs or take it out on Sam Singer? If a cat has to decide to take on a pack of wolves or a single rat, what would it do? Pity the rat?
Sam Singer sighed. "I guess I have no choice now, do I? Well, here is my offer: A fair price for the shares. I get a fair fee as consultant plus I am the only one allowed to use the penthouse. If you agree to this, I think we might get to some... partnership."
Erik was not happy with this deal, but what choice did he have? His first problem was to find someone to finance that scheme. It had been easier with the other theater for no one had known of his other debts and there had been the building as security. Now it seemed the banks had informed each other that he already had a hypothecary credit. Erik was at a loss. What could he do now?
It was always the same: the first problem was entering a bank with his mask without them thinking he was a bank robber. He had long ago learned that it was easier to write and ask for a meeting, informing the banker that he would be wearing a mask because he suffered a severe defacement. It was humiliating, but the only way to avoid being mistaken for a bank robber. This was something he feared - how should he ever prove to any court that he was not a robber? If he went into a bank with his mask and would be arrested there, there was no way to prove that he had certainly not intended any crime at all. He would be stupid to do so - robbery had always been something he disliked for there was a really high risk involved. So even getting an appointment with a banker was quite difficult, usually he preferred to met the banker outside the bank. In this case it was rather easy - his office. At Meyer's theater he had met the banker at the theater, which was convenient for the banker needed to see the building anyways to decide if it was worth enough to serve as security. And this would be rather the same - only that it was hard to find any banker who would agree.
It was May before Erik finally had found a banker who agreed to see the building, see the books and consider a loan. The banker was not surprised, he had seen the show and knew Erik as the masked magician. He was just surprised to learn that the mask was not just some fancy costume but a necessity.
Erik did his best to present himself as a competent manager of the theater - now two theaters - and just taking over the business from Mr. Singer. Mr. Sam Singer was there and enjoyed the show he secretly had called "a freak playing businessman". Erik knew of this and it made his blood boil - but what could he possibly do now? He had to present himself as businessman if he wanted to be accepted, but it was hard to do so under the constant sneering of Mr. Singer who enjoyed this very much.
Erik gave the banker a full tour of both theater buildings and explained what shows they currently ran. He provided the books, his expectations for the future and whatever he could answer.
When they finally sat in the office together, Erik, the banker and Mr. Singer, the banker leaned back in his chair, stipled his fingers and looked at Erik through his thick glasses. Somehow the smaller man managed to look down his nose to make sure Erik knew he was looking down at him. "Mr. Y, this all sounds quite interesting - but with the second theater mortgaged to the hilt and the interest you have to pay to that other bank you cannot afford a loan of this sum. You simply can't."
Erik felt as if the walls were closing in on him and he was falling at the same time. He had never suffered from vertigo, but right now he felt like he was falling down, falling and falling into a bottomless canyon and the walls were closing in above his head. This couldn't be! This could not happen!
"If you want my opinion," the banker went on matter of factly, "Sell your landed property. Maybe you find a buyer who would pay enough that you could pay back your debt. If not, you could find yourself an employment and ask if you could pay in monthly installments. The risk you are taking now is too high. I represent my bank here and I tell you that we can't give you any loan, not even a hypothecary credit for you will not be able to pay."
"No!" Erik couldn't stop himself from slamming his fist down on the desk, "I told you - I can do this!" He took a deep breath and flexed his fingers, trying to regain composure, but his mind was reeling from the blow he had just taken. What could he do now? Sell the theater he owned? He would most likely end up even deeper in debt than he had been before. It would be total defeat. It had been hard enough to get where he was now, if he had to start again burdened with even heavier debts he doubted he could ever do this. This was his chance - he had only one. The alternative was to be a lowly paid vaudeville magician forever, bound to do his master's bidding, even if that was humiliating and forcing him to display himself as freak again.
"I can do this," Erik said, "You see - I have much bigger plans than just two theaters. You see that Coney Island is horribly disorganized. Small parcels, brothels next to fun rides for kids, liquor stores and opium dens next to kiosks offering sweets for kids, fight clubs and horse racing courses next to hotels where people want to recline and find peace and quiet at the seaside and the beach." He took a deep breath and found he could not stop himself from presenting the arguments he had in his mind, hoping he could stop his babbling mouth before he would reveal that there was a hidden debt as well - he would have to pay Bruno Riccy. But of course he wouldn't tell the banker. "Wait here for a moment!"
Erik rushed to his workshop to fetch his plans. He was no city planner but he knew his plans were flawless. He placed them on the desk before the banker. "Here. This is how it will look in a few years," he stated self-confident, "And I will do this either with your bank or with another one, I don't care." He asked himself why he was displaying such self-confidence when it had taken him two months to even get a meeting. That in itself was a problem: He would of course get the shares and the profit from the day he paid on - he had calculated to be able to earn money from end of April at the latest. Now it was May and nothing was secured, he still had nothing but debts and was not even able to pay the interest. The first installment - principal and interest - was due in November. Left only five full months, if the contracts would be signed in May, which became more unlikely with every passing hour.
The banker sucked in a deep breath. "You'd need much money for this, don't you?" he stated, "If you hope to finance this with credits only you're guaranteed to face bankruptcy in two years at the latest."
"I don't..." Erik replied, clasping his hands behind his back to prevent them from shaking.
"Let me finish," the banker said and held up his hand, "This is an interesting business concept. I might find some investors who are prepared to take high risks."
"High risks - that means they expect a high income return," Erik answered. He understood where this was going - still not liking the concept but glad that there was a way out.
"Listen, I'll arrange a meeting with a lawyer. You need to sell your landed property to the company. Then you can sell shares and use the money from these sells to build up that... organized fairground or whatever you like to call it," the banker told him.
"I'm not buying shares just to sell them at the same time!" Erik snapped annoyed, "I want this as my own enterprise - I do not want any shareholders!"
"Then you would need credits from investors ready to take high risks - and they would expect dear interest," the banker informed him.
"I knew that," Erik replied, crossing his arms before his breast, "And I think this is a good idea. Please let me know when the meeting with that lawyer and the investors can be - the sooner the better."
When the banker had left, a rather worried Mr. Singer stood at Erik's side in the office. "Do you really think you can do this? I know the numbers - it is impossible. Even you can't do this. This looks like bankruptcy fraud to me and you are the one to take the blame in the end. Years in jail, I'm sure. Now you still have time to reconsider."
"What's it to you?" Erik snapped, angrily pushing Mr. Singer aside, "You get your money and can do whatever you like afterwards. Stay as consultant or leave to live with your family, I don't care. Now get out of my way, I have only ten minutes left to prepare for my first show today! God, I'm snowed under with work, I don't have time for your prattling."
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