Green Kills
Authors: Avi Domoshevizki
Green Kills
Avi Domoshevizki
Green Kills/
Avi Domoshevizki
Copyright © 2015 Avi Domoshevizki. All rights reserved.
This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual events
or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No parts of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any
form or by any means, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,
recording, taping, or by any information storage retrieval system, without the
permission, in writing, of the author.
Translated from Hebrew by Yaron Regev
Editor of the Hebrew edition: Amnon Jackont
Copyediting of the English edition: Julie MacKenzie of Free Range
Editorial
Contact: a
[email protected]
Table of contents
To my
Dear Parents
Where large
sums of money are concerned, it is advisable to trust nobody.
(Agatha Christie)
The true
mystery of the world is the visible, not the invisible.
(Oscar Wilde)
New York, September 6, 2012, 8:30 AM
Overly fancy offices had always filled Ronnie with a sense of
unease. He was a man of deeds, not of appearances. The reception area of the
venture capital fund he had entered cried out, “There’s money here, and lots of
it.” Above the receptionist’s desk hung a painting from Matisse’s dancer
series, and Ronnie had no doubt it was an original. He couldn’t shake the
feeling that the receptionist was chosen because of her skinny ballerina look
as well.
The phone in his pocket vibrated. He fished it out and read:
I
’
ll bet you whatever you
want that she
’
s hot
.
He didn’t have to see the sender’s
name. It was Gadi. Ever since Ronnie had moved to the United States, the two of
them had felt like separated twins. They spoke on the phone daily, shared the
details of their lives with one another, and mainly missed each other terribly.
The receptionist fixed a pair of green, questioning eyes on him.
“My name is Ronnie Saar. I’m here to see David Lammar.”
“Follow me, please.” She smiled as if she’d been waiting all
morning for his arrival.
He followed her perfect rear end to a conference room with clear
glass walls proudly meant to declare: “Transparency and business integrity are
the name of the game.” Ronnie knew from experience that the declaration was
completely unfounded.
“David, the managing partner, will join you in a moment,” she
remarked with the professional indifference of a flight attendant. “Would you
like something to drink?
Something cold, perhaps?
Coffee?”
“A glass of water please.”
“Perrier or Evian?”
“It doesn’t matter.
Whatever you like best.”
“I prefer Evian.”
“Evian will be perfect,” Ronnie hurried to answer, careful to
maintain his companion’s level of seriousness.
The young woman leaned forward, keeping her long legs stretched.
With robotic efficiency, she took out a bottle of Evian water from an office
refrigerator hidden within a cabinet. She removed the bottle cap with a swift
unscrewing motion and poured Ronnie half a glass. The half empty bottle was
placed to his left, in the center of a copper foil coaster embossed with the
logo of one of the fund's portfolio companies.
“He’ll be here soon,” she promised and tiptoed out while tugging
at the hem of her pencil skirt.
Ronnie took a sip of the water. He couldn’t taste any difference
between the fancy bottled water and regular tap water and smiled with irony as
he recalled how, during his military service, the mere knowledge of available
water would bring about indescribable pleasure. Then he fished the telephone
from his pocket once more and sent Gadi a message:
Hot indeed. But like many other things in this office,
completely fake
.
He left the phone next to him and, as was
his custom, allowed his eyes to wander about and investigate, etching in his
mind each and every detail in the room.
The company’s logo, an image of a four-armed woman at its center
with the name of the fund displayed above her head: Visions Partners
LLC,
was engraved on the glass wall in front of him. He
liked the symbolic usage of Lakshmi, the Hindu goddess of wealth and prosperity.
It had a touch of sophistication, as well as a wink and a nod to the vast
Indian market. Plaques and trophies — tombstones, as the bankers are proud to
call them — of every imaginable shape and color sat on low mahogany chests
against the glass walls. Each proudly displayed the name of a company belonging
to the fund and the amount invested in it. Additional plaques boasted the names
of other companies and the amounts at which they had been sold. Ronnie had a
memento just like that at home, somewhere in the attic. It had been given to
him by the bankers who had led the sale of his company to Johnson & Johnson
two years ago. They’d earned more than eight million dollars from the sale,
while Ronnie had received a Plexiglas trophy engraved with the name of his
company, the buyer’s name, and a quite inconceivable number beneath them — four
hundred and eighty million dollars. It was the day on which his life had
changed. From a penniless kibbutz member who lived off of scholarships and
often settled for one meal a day — he instantly became a millionaire who never
needed to be worried about having livelihood challenges again.
Ronnie shifted his gaze to the Matisse dance painting beyond the
glass partition.
“I see the painting has piqued your interest,” he heard a voice
to his right say. “My rivals accuse me of a tendency for ostentation. Those who
know me better realize that I simply have a weak spot for beautiful things.”
Ronnie rose from his seat.
“David Lammar.” The man extended his hand.
“Ronnie Saar.
Pleased to meet you.”
The
handshake was firm and lasted about three seconds, enough time to create the
impression of personal attention, yet not ingratiating or
sticky.
David sat by Ronnie’s side and angled his chair toward him. “As
you would imagine, we’ve researched you quite a bit, and I have to admit we
were very impressed by what we found. What we weren’t able to find was just as
impressive. I understand you served in a secret Israeli army unit, and you’re
still on reserve duty even though you live in the United States. Is that
correct?”
“I don’t see how this has anything to do with the matter I’ve
come here to discuss,” answered Ronnie, attempting to subdue the resistance
rising in him toward this intrusion. “Yes, I served in the Israeli army and
yes, I still do my duty for my country by serving my quota of reserve days. But
since then I’ve also finished a PhD in biological engineering at MIT and
founded a successful company that was acquired by J&J. I think that’s what
I have to sell, not one mysterious story or another from the time I was
eighteen.”
“You’re right,” David said with a forced smile. “I just want to
make sure you weren’t a professional assassin or something of that nature.”
Ronnie didn’t answer.
“OK, let’s drop the subject,” David said, drawing out his words
and using the time to prepare the next topic of conversation. “We in the fund
believe that your area of specialty, the medical market, will become the next
big thing in the coming years. We’ve decided to recruit in advance a top-notch
team, experts in this particular field, in order to strategically strengthen
our next fund.”
“Your next fund?”
Ronnie was
surprised.
“Yes, we’ve been running our second fund for the last two years.
A year or two from today we plan on starting to raise funds for our third one.”
David went silent and following a brief pause added, “I hope you realize
everything we’re discussing must remain in this room. Consider yourself having
signed a nondisclosure agreement.”
Ronnie nodded his agreement.
“As you can see,” David said, gesturing toward the tombstones
commemorating deals, “we’ve had quite a few successes. So far, we’ve earned our
first fund’s investors five times their initial investments,
[1]
and we’ve still to exhaust the profit
potential. The fund’s portfolio contains at least five additional promising
companies that may in themselves double or triple the profits returned to
investors.” David smiled, allowing the impressive information to sink in. “Regarding
the second fund, I can tell you that in our last annual meeting with the fund’s
investors, which took place about a month ago, we hinted to them that based on
information we now have, the second fund may outshine the performance of the
first one.” He casually poured himself some water from the bottle standing in
front of Ronnie and drank slowly.
“The third fund, which, as I’ve already mentioned, we’ll begin
to raise money for in about two years, will be in a league of its own. This
time we intend to raise eight hundred million dollars. This requires, of
course, a different level of organizational preparation,” his voice rose with
restrained enthusiasm, “and this is why you’re here, with me. If you prepared
yourself for a job interview, I’ll have to disappoint you. There’ll be no
interview. We simply want you. Assuming we can agree on the terms, you can
start tomorrow.”
David paused, indicating with a gesture that it was Ronnie’s
turn to speak. He knew exactly what he was about to hear. Ninety-eight percent
of the interviewees, no matter how brilliant, slapped infantile smiles on their
faces and thanked him with banal responses such as, “I promise I won’t let you
down.”
But Ronnie remained calm and matter-of-fact. “Thank you for the
trust you and the other partners are placing in me, but before I can respond to
the offer, it’s important for me to know more about the course of the career I
can expect while working for the fund.”
“A good point.”
David hid his
embarrassment behind a compliment. “You’ll start as a senior associate
[2]
in the current fund. If you prove
yourself in the course of the next two years, you’ll be promoted to the
position of partner in the next fund. You do realize, of course, this is an
unusually fast promotion in our field. On the other hand, if you aren’t good
enough — perhaps ‘good’ is not the right word to use, ‘brilliant and committed’
may better describe our requirements — then less than two years from now our
ways shall part. We’ve had three senior associates in the first fund, all
Harvard graduates. None of them are still with us today. They were very good, I
must admit, but not exceptionally excellent. It’s all or nothing. That’s our
philosophy. All or nothing,” he repeated quietly.
“Indeed a fast promotion track, and thank you for presenting the
less attractive route,” Ronnie replied evenly. “How would you like to proceed?”
“Do you have interviews with other funds?” asked David.
“Three more.
I’ve done my second
interview at two of them and was invited for a final meeting at both. With the
third one I’ve passed a human resources interview and was invited to meet the
senior partners.”
“Which funds, if I may ask?”
“I’d rather not provide that information. None of the funds have
made me an offer, and perhaps won’t do so in the future, therefore I see no
point in sharing their names at this stage,” answered Ronnie calmly, looking at
David’s manicured hands, which he felt had delved too deeply into his life.
“Discretion is an important quality in our industry,” David
muttered, half mockingly. “What I’m about to offer you was agreed upon by all
the partners.
[3]
We don’t believe in dragging our feet. As I stated, we’ve done our homework and
researched you; now all that remains is to finalize the terms.” He glanced at
his watch, and with perfect timing the door opened and an Asian-looking man
peeped inside and announced, “David, the call starts in two minutes.” Ronnie
recognized him from the photos on the fund’s website — Henry Chen, the second
senior partner in the fund and the one who’d established it along with David.
David rose from his seat. “Excuse me for a
moment,
I need to make a short telephone call to the managing partner of the Fidelity
fund. We’re closing a joint investment round with him in one of our portfolio
companies. This will take five minutes tops. OK?” He did not wait for a reply
and left the room.
Ronnie followed David’s chubby figure walking quickly beyond the
glass wall, and wondered if they were trying to hint they knew about the
interview he had with Fidelity the day before. He was flattered by the wooing
gestures but decided that unless an especially tempting offer was presented
when the meeting resumed he would avoid providing an immediate answer.
He left his seat, went to the hidden refrigerator from which the
receptionist had taken the Evian, and fished out another one. Through the
transparent wall, he could see a displeased expression developing on her face.
He sent her a smile, indicating with exaggerated stage-acting movements that
David had drunk the water intended for him. She returned a smile.
David kept his word. Precisely five minutes later, Ronnie saw
his plump belly making its way back to the conference room. As if they’d never
stopped their conversation, he said, “At this stage, we’re willing to offer you
two percent of the second fund’s profits, in spite of the fact it is already in
a progressive stage of its life cycle. I assume you realize this number will
likely translate into ten million dollars or more for your share. Obviously,
should you become a partner in the next
fund,
your
share in that fund would be significantly higher. I believe there’s no need to
stress to you that this is an exceptionally generous offer.”
Ronnie wondered why David and his partners were so determined to
have him in their midst. “This is indeed a generous offer,” he agreed with a
flat voice.
“Additionally, you will receive a three hundred and sixty
thousand dollar annual salary.
A number that makes it rather
easy to calculate the monthly salary.
Needless to say, once you’re a
partner, your salary will also be significantly upgraded.”
David stopped talking and leveled his gaze at Ronnie, awaiting
his reply.
“
It’s
way more than I expected your
initial offer to be and a little more than what I thought I’d actually get,
following a long and laborious negotiation process,” Ronnie admitted. “I
appreciate your offer very much, but before I’m able to accept it, I’d like to
meet with the rest of the staff members. I believe I’ll work here for a long
while, and they’ll be the people I’ll spend most of my time with. Would you
like to set up another time for these meetings?”