The terrorists were fighting to unsettle the country, make it so unsafe, foreigners like his parents, would not attempt to go there to lend support to the locals. Boko Haram did not want conditions for the locals to improve. Perhaps it was because of who they were, foreign aid workers, the Sorensens had been used as an example. That was probably it.
It made no difference. Viktor and Freja were gone. His life, as he had known it, was over, and Frederik was shattered. For the next month, Frederik shut himself inside the family home, wandering around, looking at pictures and memorabilia, and remembering.
The business still had to function, and without thinking, he delegated its administration to his father’s plant manager, Olaf Svensen. Viktor had trusted Olaf, and so Frederik trusted him. It proved to be a trust well placed.
The funeral was a blur of emotions, the underlying one being the total unfairness of their deaths. Frederik was surprised and touched how many people took the trouble to travel from overseas, to be there. As speaker after speaker attested, Viktor and Freja were good people in every sense of that word. They were respected in business, both by those who worked for them, and those they dealt with. Apart from their business, much of their lives had been dedicated to helping the less fortunate. He had big shoes to fill.
For a time, Frederik had no thought of filling them, they were just too big. His mind remained a daze, and the following days passed as a blur, where he functioned as an automaton, making decisions, but at a level that barely penetrated his thinking processes, and later, scarcely remembering what he had done.
Time is a healer, and Frederik’s return to normality was pressured by the demands of his father’s business. Decisions had to be made, that were outside the scope of his manager. He had to step up. Facing practical problems that demanded practical solutions, gradually brought him around, and the memory of his parents became an ache, present every time he closed his eyes, but his life continued, albeit, for some time, in a dazed cloud.
There was still his graduation, something both Viktor and Freja had been excited about participating in, but there was no joy in it for Frederik. The flight back to Harvard was spent slumped in his seat, numb, oblivious. His friend Gerry, was all genuine compassion and remorse, and his mother Susan, surprised Frederik at the graduation ceremony. On being introduced, she burst into tears, and hugged him.
“Oh you poor poor boy, what a terrible, terrible experience. I don’t know how you can cope with such a loss. What a dreadful thing to have happened.”
It made him feel warm inside. He found Susan to be a gentle lady, quiet and sincere, who proved the perfect foil for her more bombastic husband. Peter came across as a salesman, a little loud at times, but also willing to listen, even if he occasionally gave Frederik the impression he was merely being polite. Peter had opinions on many subjects, and was more than prepared to share them, particularly, it seemed, on the subject of terrorism, and what should be done to terrorists.
Susan restrained him, with a hand on his arm.
“There, there, Peter, give the boy a little peace. I’m sure there will be time later, when you can discuss those things.”
Peter subsided, shaking his head, and Frederik thought he would be hearing more of Peter’s views on that subject, later. Susan invited Frederik back to their family home after the ceremony, and after a few moments hesitation, he took up the offer. He needed family around him, even if it was not his own. He had warmed to Susan, and he would be glad of her company. She reminded him of Freja.
He flew with them, back to New York, which proved to be an experience that was to shape his future life, and ultimately, even profoundly affect the world, but he was not to know that, then.
6
Gerry’s parents lived in a luxury condo in the heart of New York city, in appropriately named, Liberty Street. Peter did most of his trading from a desk in his home office, but pointed out to Frederik, it was only a brisk stroll to Wall Street, a walk he made almost every day, to hob nob with traders, and listen to what was happening in the business world. Also, he could claim some of his household expenses, as an income-related tax deduction. Peter liked to take advantage of every opportunity to make money.
Frederik spent a week with the Hendersons, investigating the numerous bustling shops and business houses, as well as checking out several of the famous New York land marks. Gerry accompanied him on several of his jaunts, but once Frederik had the feel of the city, he was happy to go out alone, to explore. New York, it seemed to him, was bursting at the seams.
The shadow cast over him by his parent’s death followed him everywhere, but the energetic vitality of the throbbing city, forced itself into his consciousness. New York was alive, it was dynamic, it throbbed with life. People hurried everywhere, all seemingly on a mission to accomplish something, or be somewhere, with no time for chit chat and small talk, important things needed to be accomplished, and he could sense the pressure people lived under, in this place.
Then, there were the parks, escapes from the madness, where one could find quiet. Alone, the shadow returned, and the images of Viktor and Freja would appear before him, in the ponds, and on walls, sometimes living visages of living parents, sometimes of ghastly heads, severed from their bodies.
Evenings were spent, either at meals at home with the Hendersons, prepared by Susan, often with the assistance of her son, who, surprisingly, proved adept in the kitchen, or at one of the multitude of restaurants in their area. It was at such gatherings Peter waxed eloquent. It was mostly about business, what trades were looking good, where the future lay as he discerned it, and always, it was about how to turn money into more money. It was during one of these discourses he said something that resonated in Frederik’s brain.
“Money may not be the most important thing in the world, but what money does, is give you options, choices. If you have money, you can do things. If you haven’t, you can’t. The more money you have, the more things you can do. It’s as simple as that.”
And that, thought Frederik, summed it up. If you have money, you can do things. He wanted to do things, significant things, and he wasn’t even sure what they were, but the horrible, senseless death of his parents, who were good people simply doing their best to help others with a genuine need, stirred, in his heart, a desire to do something that would make amends for that senseless act.
Perhaps driven by anger, perhaps by guilt that he had contributed to their death by failing them, or it could have been the sum of the experiences he had shared with them, in thatched huts with mud walls and dirt floors in several continents, but Frederik determined he was going to do something that would be payback for his parents deaths, something that mattered.
Not sure of what is was, or how it would be accomplished, the one thing he did resolve, it was going to be big, significantly big. He thought it would also, probably, prove to be expensive.
First, he knew he would need money, a lot of money. The direction of Frederik’s life changed at that point. The need to make a lot of money became the objective of Frederik’s being from that insightful moment, onwards. It became an obsession which never left him. Laying just below the surface of his thinking, niggling and prompting him, making money became his driving force. To have a lot of money, was the first step, before he could undertake whatever it was he would do. Mixed in with that resolve, was a deep, quiet, anger, at what had happened to his parents.
Frederik’s gut reaction when he first heard the news of their deaths, was to exact revenge. He would go to Africa, track down the murderers, hire a vigilante army, and bring justice to his parents. He would kill the killers. This quickly passed, as reason, and logic, exerted their influence. It was physically impossible. Even the national Sudanese army, with its resources, could not find the murderers. A tin-pot vigilante army, would have no chance.
Thoughts of revenge were gradually replaced by a more nuanced, long term view. He would find jus
tice, his parents would be avenged, eventually, but it would not be simply an eye for an eye. It would be much, much, more. There would be a way, and he would find it. He would not rush. That there would be some way to heal this terrible wrong, he was sure, he just didn’t know yet, what it was. When it appeared he would recognise it, and when it did, he had to be ready. Whatever course of action presented, it would no doubt be expensive, and he would need money, a lot of money, to achieve it. He had to make a lot of money!
On returning to Stockholm, Frederik sat down with manager Olaf Svensen, to discuss the business, and he looked at it with fresh eyes. Previously, the focus had been on the work, orders that had arrived at the factory, or details of projects that would require careful input, to see whether and how, the particular skills of his company could handle the problem outlined.
Now, Frederik concentrated on the bottom line. What profit would it show? How long before the work they did, would turn into numbers on the bank statement? Olaf noticed the young man’s seeming new obsession, and commented.
“It will make a profit. When we cost it out, always there is a margin on top for profit, that is what your father always insisted on. That way, we make sure everything is covered, the breakdowns, replacements, even oversights which can occur, and after thinking and planning for everything in the job, including our own wage costs, we add on twenty five per cent, that is the profit. Sometimes it works out more, not often, a little less, but usually twenty five per cent, on top of everything, is the profit. That is what your father aimed for.”
“Olaf, from now on, that will be fifty per cent.”
Olaf blinked.
“Fifty per cent? That is very high. Do you think that might be too much? We might lose jobs if we are too expensive.”
“If we can’t make fifty per cent on top, then I don’t want the jobs. From now on, I want us to do better, Olaf, better than twenty five per cent. Make the mark up fifty per cent, and we will see what happens.”
It came as a surprise to Olaf, that they did not lose many jobs with their additional loading. The factory’s reputation was such, their prices were rarely questioned, and the bottom line moved upward, which was as well, because another of Frederik’s decisions, to buy a large tranch of shares in a new company Gerry had recommended, backfired badly. Gerry’s information was flawed. The new company went belly-up soon after the float, and the shares proved worthless. Gerry was apologetic, but that didn’t help.
“Share trading is like gambling. Don’t put in any more than you can afford to lose. Stocks and shares should really be called shocks and snares!”
His father distrusted the stock exchange, and his words came back now, to haunt him. Frederik decided that big time playing the stock market, was not the safest way to grow his bank balance. He had to make money, that was the first part of his plan, but he did not like losing it. He did not possess the emotional recklessness of the true gambler. Being conservative was essentially Swedish, and being careful, ran deep in Frederik’s genes. There had to be better ways, safer ways, to make a lot of money, than the stock exchange.
His first venture into big real estate was forced on him, and started with a block of offices near the city centre, or rather, an allotment of land, designated for development. Frederik was looking to increase the profile of the business, and needed a smarter showroom and office, nearer the heart of the city. The prices asked, merely to rent suitable premises, amazed him.
When he found a vacant block just where he wanted to locate his office, the result of a fire that had ripped through the old timber building previously there, he saw at once the potential. He put in his offer to buy the land, before even discussing it with his bank. He would build his own office and showroom!
That initial decision changed shape dramatically, after spending two hours with the bank manager. Frederik’s knowledge of banking matters was not extensive, but it did not take him long, to understand what the manager was saying. The bank, it appeared, was awash with money. Interest rates had plummeted as a result, and the bank wanted to get money out. It was prepared to lend, cheaply, and the amount he suggested, surprised Frederik. The manager was under pressure from his head office to make loans. With Frederik’s company behind him as collateral, the manager made it clear, Frederik could almost set his own limit.
Frederik already held, in hand, sufficient funds to build his office, but he walked out of the bank with numbers and ideas tumbling around his head. He did something uncharacteristic to his nature. He would take a big risk. He decided to buy a second property adjoining his land, doubling its size, and began to plan.
His office and showroom became the largest building in that part of the city, a skyscraper of showrooms, offices, and multi storey apartments. Sorensen Enterprises was launched. When the sale of the eighteenth floor penthouse apartment of the new Sorensen building settled, the venture had swollen Frederik’s bank balance by an additional twenty million dollars. He had enjoyed himself immensely, and Stockholm had a new recognisable name. He had retained some of the shops in the buildings to rent out, as a cash flow.
Frederik, elated by both the success of his venture, and the excitement he had had dealing with it, decided real estate was to be his future. It could make real money, quickly. Designing the building, thinking through the detail of each segment, and how it would fit in, both challenged and excited him. He would retain his father’s business, but he would not devote himself to it. He would build buildings, lots of buildings, big buildings. If he did it right, designing and building new structures would make him the sort of money he wanted to make, and make it fast.
Olaf Svensen was a happy man when he walked out of Frederik’s office, clutching a typed sheet of paper with details of his boss’s proposal. He was now a non-capital partner in the business. Frederik remained the owner, but Olaf would take a small share of whatever profits the business might make, in addition to his wages, from now on. Best of all, he was going to be allowed to run the business pretty much how he liked, with Frederik only looking over his shoulder from time to time. Any major decisions that would involve capital expenditure, he would run past Frederik, put the business case to convince Frederik it was sound, but provided Frederik was satisfied, he would get the go ahead, and Frederik would finance it.
Olaf did not alter the fifty percent policy. Frederik had been right about that, they had been undercharging previously, Olaf saw that now, and the future looked very bright for Olaf. He could not wait to get home to tell his wife the good news. It would be the first good news story since the details of the terrible murders had broken.
Frederik’s appetite, well and truly whetted by the success of the first Sorensen building, went hunting for his next ventures, and his father’s training stood him in good stead. Always study the detail carefully, that’s where the devil might lie, and make sure you can see the whole project in your head, before you start, even if some of the steps can be taken later. See the end, before you take the first step, and always keep your eye on that end goal.
Delegating responsibility to Olaf had been necessary. It freed him for his new projects, and it reinforced, for Frederik, that he could rely on other people, and trust them, but with a caveat. He was naturally cautious. He tested people, and trust came, only after he knew them well.
He eventually employed a bright young architect, not long out of Stockholm University, as his project manager, and quickly began to rely on her judgment. That she was also very pretty made working alongside her quite pleasurable. The still young Frederik found himself frequently thinking of his employee at night, and the thoughts were not confined to building design.
After completing her degree, Helena had found a place with a small architectural firm, mainly designing up-market residences for the wealthy. She applied for an interview, after spotting Frederik’s advertisement. Her experience with male students had made her wary of men. Her initial meeting with Frederik was as
much her interviewing him, as vice versa, and Frederik recognised her caution. She already held a good job he was asking her to give up, for a new, untried venture.
“I am not particularly interested in building houses. They are fiddly, the clients are fussy, and there is not enough profit for the time they involve. I am looking to build bigger things, commercial buildings, perhaps with residences as an aside.” Frederik had in mind the success of his initial foray into building.
“What roll do you see me playing in all this?”
“I am looking for someone who can recognise the big picture, and not get blind-sided by small detail. I want to build substantial buildings, big budget buildings, which means bigger risks, but also bigger profits. I want someone I can trust, to find the right places to build, and know what and how to build.”
The challenge was there, and the chance to break into the big time. Helena decided to take the risk, plus there was something about Frederik that invoked trust. He seemed sincere. Also, her female instincts came into play. She couldn’t help feeling sympathy for this nice young man because of his recent loss. The murder of Viktor and Freja Sorensen had been all over the front pages of the papers, and she knew the story. She threw in her job, and started on the Sorensen payroll.
Helena soon recognised her young, tall, good looking boss, approached projects with practical eyes. He was not about building monuments to himself, to satisfy demands of ego. While she did not understand what drove Frederik’s motivation, she identified his hard head for business, and knew what was required of her. She also quickly realised, he was brilliant at recognising investment possibilities.
He focused his attention on the commercial market. Frederik was not about building flashy structures that would stand out for their flamboyance, he wanted to build buildings that people wanted, practical buildings that would sell, and he had a sharp eye for design and quality. Practical buildings did not need to be ugly, and practical buildings almost sold themselves, if they were located in the right place.
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