The Devil You Know (50 page)

‘Very good, ma’am,’ he said, getting back into the car.

She .was staring at the building and she had that look on her face. Sometimes, Bernie thought, it seemed like the only thing Rose Fiorello cared about was goddam buildings. Houses, apartment blocks, run-down brownstones; bricks and mortar rather than flesh and blood.

She was obsessed. He put the car into gear, thinking that she

needed a good fu.cking. What a pity he wasn’t gonna be the one to

give it to her …

‘How many floors?’ 1Kose asked.

The realtor was a nervous little man, somewhat rat-like. He had a

pair of black-framed glasses which he kept pushing back up the bridge of his nose. He had heard of the newly legendary 1Kose Fiorello, and told all the sellers in the office that he was about to take her for a ride.

It wasn’t working out like that. She had an aggravating willingness

to walk away from the deal. That fact was stopping him from

bullying her the way he wanted to.

‘Eighteen,’ he said. ‘That’s a great size, Rose.’

‘I don’t recall asking you to call me by my first name, Mr Robinson.’

‘Uhm, right. Miss Fiorello.’

‘And the top six floors are nothing but a shell. It would have to be completely restored, assuming the building’s structurally sound. Which I’m not.’

‘We could check that out for you.’

‘No bank is gonna mortgage on this dump,’ Rose said decisively.

‘Which means hard money. Your price is going to squeeze my profit

margins. ‘

‘Yes, but think of the opportunities … Prime Manhattan real

estate…’

‘Alphabet City,’ Rose sneered, making it sound like it wasn’t

worth living in. ‘Do you think this place will rent to the highest class? You got needles in the parks round here, a homeless shelter two blocks over, and graffiti on the walls.’

‘There’s opportunity in East Manhattan, Miss Fiorello, with

Mayor Giuliani in charge …’

352

‘Back taxes on this place alone are almost two hundred grand just to clear the title,’ Rose said.

He wavered. ‘Like I said, the upside is huge, ma’am.’

Rose looked up. Rust was everywhere, debris, and rats. ‘Let’s get out into the street before the building falls on our heads.’

She made it sound so shitty he was actually glad to follow her. ‘What we have here is the potential for a large, bright apartment building with space for a garden and landscaping,’ he said unconvincingly.

‘What you have here, Mr lobinson, is an unsafe abandoned structure which is being used as a flop house and crack den, in a seedy part of Manhattan, which no bank can lend on and which has been on the market for over eighteen months, because your price is insane.’

‘So you don’t want it,’.he said, crumpling a little. ‘We have some other, better buildings.’

‘I want it,’ Rose said. ‘I never said I didn’t want it.’

‘But you ‘

‘I don’t want it at your insane price. I’ll give you three quarters of a million, not including the taxes, which brings it to almost fi ,{‘ull

mill.’

‘The price is three million dollars and that’s ‘

:

‘Unacceptable. Look, Mr Robinson. You’ve had this dog on ycmr books for longer than a year. What does that say to some guy looking to list his house? Benkman Martin has inventory that doesn’t shift because they can’t shift it. I know you’ve had buyers that have fallen through. And why? Because they’re not liquid. Not serious. Now, I can move fast. I have the money and you know my reputation.’

He wavered.

‘In a month, you can have this thing closed, and you know what they’ll say in the office? ‘John Robinson knows how to cut his losses and move out the crap. He got rid of that dog on Avenue A the first day he showed it.’

Robinson blinked. ‘How - how did you know this is my first day of showing this property?’

Rose Fiorello looked him dead in the eye and said, ‘I’m connected.’

She was in with Salerni. He’d heard that. Suddenly John Robinson just wanted to get back behind his nice cushy desk. And it was a dog, and it had just sat there for over a year …

353

‘I’ll have to do a lot of talking to convince the seller.’

‘Try telling him that my sources tell me City Hall’s about to file a

lawsuit on his ass for owning a crack den.’

‘I don’t know …’

P, ose reached inside her warm cashmere coat and took out a white paper envelope. She opened it slightly to let Robinson see what was inside: a sheaf of green notes.

‘Hundreds,’ she said. ‘A hundred of them. That’s ten thousand dollars. Get me a signed contract in a week, and it’s yours.’

‘You may be able to do something with this one,’ Greg Filkes said. He slid the manila file across the mahogany desk, expectantly.

Jacob Iothstein picked it up, slid the photographs and sheets out

of it, and grinned. ‘Good job, Filkes.’

‘Thank you, sir.’

‘That’ll be all for now,’ he added, disappointing the junior executive, who had been hoping for a round of backslapping congratulations from the boss’s son. But he got up and left the office quietly, closing the door. Doubtless he’d get a bonus, or something…

Everybody knew the crown prince was in deep shit because he’d brought his little girlfriend into the company and she’d stolen some data. Now he was looking to crush her, presumably to get back in Daddy’s good graces. Filkes had found his master something that would help, and he expected to be in favour with both father and

son.

Because this was a little quarrel, but so what? The Rothsteins were a family, and they’d get over that. It was what every suit in the building expected.

Greg Filkes was wrong, though.

Jacob lothstein stared at the details for twenty minutes, taking them in. Nice choice, Rose, he mused, admiring her taste. She really did have a flair for real estate and under normal circumstances he thought she would have gone far.

But these were not normal circumstances. She had Jacob P,-othstein on her tail.

Jacob made sure everything was in order before he made his move. He hired a new lawyer, not one who was in the pocket of his family, and had him check out his legal status. He was disappointed, but not all that surprised, to find that most of his wealth wasn’t his at all; it

354

belonged to a family trust, and without his parents’ say-so, Jacob

couldn’t touch it. The Manhattan apartment and contents belonged

to him, though. He had two hundred and twelve thousand in a

current account, of which one hundred was last year’s bonus, and his

new lawyer told him crisply he’d most likely have to pay it back.

That left him a car, an apartment, and a hundred grand, after he’d

paid off the lawyer. IZothstein felt a few butterflies, but resolutely

ignored them. A hundred grand wasn’t much in the Big Apple;

maintenance and taxes on his place were two thousand a month just

by themselves. Figure in fine wines, food, the necessity of a decent

suit, parking, dry cleaning; he wasn’t even sure if it would last him

three months.

And yet Jacob had had no doubts about what he was going to do.

For the last two weeks he had been quietly tying up every loose

end in his department, assigning more work to his underlings, and

getting his files in order for a successor. And this morning he was all

done.

He picked out a thick brown padded envelope, addressed it to his

apartment, and filled it with everything he had on 1Kose Fiorello.

Then Jacob personally dropped it in the company mail-chute; 3nd

after that was done, went outside to his secretary.

‘Buzz my father for me, would you please, Ella.’

“

‘Yes, Mr 1

‘That’s right.’

‘Come back soon,’ she said, batting her eyelashes at him. She never saw him again.

‘Don’t be such a spoiled brat, Jake,’ his father said, angrily. ‘I have an eleven o’clock and I don’t need this bullshit.’

‘Take the eleven o’clock, Dad. I’m not gonna change my mind.’ ‘Of course you are. You’re just throwing a temper tantrum.’ ‘No.’ Jacob shook his head. He faced his father across the desk; he had not sat down, and Fred 1Kothstein wasn’t about to get up. ‘I’m outta here, Dad. I just wanted to tell you myself.’

‘Is that about that skinny wop bitch? For fuck’s sake! I can get some girls that look just like her sent round to yonr apartment, you can bang ‘em and get over this crap.’

Jacob winced. His father’s vulgarity jarred on him. ‘It’s nothing to do with her,’ he said, not entirely truthfully.

Fred’s face darkened. ‘So you’re about to run off with my

355

company secrets and hook up with her, are you? Betraying me for some piece of second-rate pussy?’

Td never do that. Never.’ Now he was being convincing. ‘I

would never help anybody to hurt the firm.’

‘Then what is it, you goddam idiot?’

He gritted his teeth. ‘Dad. I don’t like how we work here. I don’t like the fact that we have to screw tenants out of leases, instead of negotiating -‘

‘That’s great; my boy, the pussy-whipped liberal.’

‘I don’t like the accounting, and I especially don’t like being bounced off Acquisitions.’

Fred spread his hands. ‘So, we’ll talk about that. Don’t be so freaking melodramatic.’

‘It’s too late for that. I realised it the second you had me moved. I just don’t want to take orders any more.’ He held up a hand to forestall his father. ‘Yeah, I know I run the division. But I need my independence. I just don’t like answering to anybody, and I intend to run my own firm my own way.’

‘Your own firm? You’re just a greenhorn, Jacob. Barely out of college …’

‘Young doesn’t mean incompetent, Dad.’ Jacob stepped forward and laid his formal letter of }esignation on his father’s desk.

Fred lothstein stared at his son. The freaking moron was actually

serious.

‘You’ll have to give back ‘

‘My bonus. I know. I already wired it back. And the cottage in the Hamptons, and that Ferrari you leased for me. I know, Dad. I

know exactly what I’m worth.’

‘How?’

‘I hired a lawyer. I’ve thought this through.’

‘Open your briefcase!’ Fred lothstein screamed. ‘How do I know you’re not trying to sneak out of here with our documents like that wop bitch?’

Jacob smiled inwardly and popped the lock to his briefcase. ‘Here.’ He showed his father; the Coach red-leather case was empty apart from a gold Mont Blanc pen. ‘That’s mine; Grandma gave it to me, remember?’

‘You goddam ungrateful bastard,’ Fred Rothstein snarled. ‘Get the luck out of my office.’

Tll see you for dinner this weekend ‘

‘I don’t thizk so,’ Fred Pothstein said. ‘You’re banned from the

356

house until you give up this craziness and come back to work for me.’

‘I’m never coming back to work here unless I have total voting control of the stock,’ Jacob said flatly.

Fred blinked. ‘You hafta be shitting me.’

Jacob sighed. ‘Elegantly put, Dad. But no.’

He left his father sitting there spluttering with rage, walked out to the executive elevator, and rode it down to the lobby.

His flat was a welcome sight, when he got home. It was going to double as an office, for the time being. He had no place else he could

use.

Jacob had set aside a small corner of his library, installing a desk, a computer and a modem. He had his subscription to MLS set up, and he had a thick sheaf of realtor files. He also had a one-page list of bank contacts.

It was a bit of a stretch. A privileged young man, working only for Daddy’s company, suddenly deciding he wanted to strike out on his own. Easy to applaud, but not so easy to underwrite. And yet Jacob was confident. ‘

The stock market was soaring. It was a good time to own fth Avenue property outright. He didn’t want to sell - too much Cap]lal Gains Tax. No, the best thing would be to mortgage the property,lap to the hilt. The gains were the proceeds of a loan, and thus they were both tax-free and tax-deductible. Jacob had looked at some similar spaces and calculated, conservatively, that this one would fetch five million. He would take out four and keep a million in equity as a cushion. That would be the seed-money; that, he could take to a bank. They would need more than his track record as part of a huge corporation, packaged up with a cute smile.

Jacob smiled to himself. Sure, it was a huge gamble, but he felt light, almost carefree. He sat down at the little desk that constituted the sum total of the assets of the JP,.oth Corporation, picked up his one-page list, and made his first phone call.

A week later Jacob lothstein took stock. The results had been mixed. He’d got his mortgage, and that was great, but the banks seemed unimpressed.

‘You don’t really have any assets, Mr Rothstein. Now, if you’d like to talk to an investment specialist about letting us manage your money …

357

It was the same old song everywhere.

‘Three million dollars is hardly chopped liver,’ Jacob responded, struggling to keep his temper in check.

‘That’s true, but it’s also hardly enough to buy a building in Manhattan. Not on the scale you are discussing.’ There would be a limp hand extended across the desk. ‘Please call us when we can help you with something.’

Jacob shrugged. ‘I wouldn’t wait by the phone.’

There was no getting around it, he was going to have to play it a little less safe than his instincts told him to. If he couldn’t get a construction loan or an industrial mortgage, he was going to have to acquire an asset.

It wasn’t as though he hadn’t done it before.

Jacob sat at his desk and looked at the other file, the Rose Fiorello one. He had intended to pursue Rose. Maybe not in quite this way, but it would serve. He found it actually kind of amusing that she was doing all his work for him. The building was a gem, if you knew the right builders, and she was in with Salerni’s mob; but he didn’t run the only crew in Brooklyn. He knew what she’d want to do; gate the entrance, put up a guard, make clean, functional apartments out of them, and wait for the neighbourhood to gentrify …