Evelyn Albright Accused Me of Elder Exploitation After I Helped Her Father — Then Her Company's Secrets Started Leaking
The revelation of the controversial land deal invigorated Arthur. He now had a clearer understanding of Evelyn’s ruthless motivations. He spent hours with David, dissecting the articles, highlighting every mention of Mr. Malcolm’s opposition. The protective order still stung, but it now made sense as a desperate tactic to silence any potential witness to Mr. Malcolm’s lucidity.
Suddenly, a memory flickered in Arthur’s mind. During his brief, pleasant chat with Mr. Malcolm, the old man had mentioned his “longtime assistant, Margaret,” in passing, praising her efficiency and loyalty. Arthur remembered the casualness of the remark, spoken with fondness. This “Margaret” might be a key.
“Mr. Malcolm mentioned an executive assistant, Margaret,” Arthur told David one afternoon.
“He spoke of her with great respect. She might know something about his state of mind around the time of that land deal.”
David agreed, seeing the potential. Locating retired executives or assistants, however, proved challenging. Albright Corp’s records were, predictably, a fortress. Arthur, drawing on his academic connections and a bit of old-fashioned detective work, started making calls. He contacted former university alumni who had gone into finance, gently probing for any knowledge of Mr. Malcolm Albright’s inner circle. He even used an online people search, trying combinations of names and old addresses. Many of his contacts were wary, unwilling to be drawn into anything connected to Albright Corp, fearing Evelyn’s far-reaching influence. He received several terse “no comments” from people who had once been friendly. It was another stark reminder of Evelyn’s pervasive control.
Finally, after several dead ends and polite rejections, Arthur found a promising lead. An old university colleague, now a retired corporate historian, remembered a “Margaret Simmons” who had been Mr. Malcolm’s right hand for decades. He provided an address for a quiet suburban community, cautioning Arthur to be discreet.
Arthur drove to the address alone, feeling a mix of hope and trepidation. Margaret Simmons’s house was a modest, well-maintained bungalow with a small, colorful garden. He rang the doorbell, his heart pounding a little faster than usual.
A woman with kind eyes and neatly styled silver hair answered. She looked to be in her late sixties. Arthur introduced himself, carefully explaining why he was there, mentioning Mr. Malcolm. Margaret’s composure immediately faltered. Her eyes darted nervously to the street, then back to Arthur.
“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, her voice strained.
“I retired. I have no connection to Albright Corp anymore.”
Her refusal felt rehearsed, too firm. Arthur noticed a slight tremor in her hands, a tell-tale sign of anxiety. He gently reiterated his plea, emphasizing that he only wanted to understand the truth about Mr. Malcolm’s health and the land deal. He showed her the newspaper clippings about the protective order against him, hoping to convey the seriousness of his situation and his honest intent.
Margaret looked at the headlines, her face paling slightly. She wrung her hands. “Evelyn… Evelyn is very powerful,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“She doesn’t like loose ends.”
Arthur pressed, his voice soft but insistent. “I believe Mr. Malcolm was lucid when I met him. And I believe he was against that land deal. You were his assistant for years, Margaret. You must have seen things.”
Margaret hesitated, her gaze fixed on a distant point beyond Arthur’s shoulder. She looked genuinely torn. Her loyalty to Mr. Malcolm was clear in her worried expression, yet her fear of Evelyn was equally palpable. She wrung her hands, a nervous habit Arthur now recognized.
“Things aren’t always… as they seem with that family,” Margaret finally conceded, her voice barely a whisper.
“Mr. Malcolm’s retirement… it was very sudden. And not what he wanted.”
She wouldn’t elaborate further, her face a mask of apprehension. She looked around nervously again, as if Evelyn herself might be listening from the rose bushes. Arthur realized that while she wasn’t outright confirming anything, her careful words and obvious fear were more telling than any direct accusation. She was scared, truly scared, of Evelyn Albright.
“I can’t talk about it here,” Margaret said, her voice hushed.
“It’s not safe.”
Her refusal to speak openly, coupled with her veiled hints about Mr. Malcolm’s ‘sudden retirement,’ only solidified Arthur’s suspicion. Margaret clearly knew something. Her guarded response served as a personal cruelty beat, highlighting Evelyn’s pervasive control and the fear she instilled even in loyal former employees. Arthur knew he had to gain her trust, to convince her that the truth was worth the risk. He left his number, reassuring her that he was not trying to cause trouble, only seeking justice for Mr. Malcolm. As he drove away, he looked back at the small bungalow, knowing that Margaret held a key to unlocking Evelyn’s secrets, but she was trapped between loyalty and a very real, very powerful fear.
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