Class Act

13

Mickey was back in the real estate office in time for the closing. Marge had taken care of everything; all he had to do was sign a lot of stuff, then call the bank and do the wire transfer.

“Congratulations,” Marge said when they were done. “You’re officially a homeowner. When do you move in?”

“Hey, wait a minute. I don’t have a stick of furniture.”

“I’ve got a friend in SoHo who sells and rents all sorts of furniture.”

“Rents?”

“For theatrical productions and movies. She’ll sell you anything she’s got, right off the floor, and the prices are good.”

“How about you be my decorator?” he said.

“I do that sort of thing,” she said. “How much do you want to spend?”

“How much stuff will twenty grand get me?”

“Fully furnished?”

“Yep.”

“Better start with fifty thousand. That will get you the basics, and you can fill in the gaps later.”

“You do it,” he said.

“You’d trust me to do that?”

“You’ll do a better job than I would.” He unsnapped a key from the ring she had given him. “Let me know when it’s done.”

“It’ll be faster than you think. Tell you what, give me three days, then you can come and take a look at what I’ve done.”

“You’ve got a deal,” he said.

“I get ten percent of what you spend.”

“Done. Call me, if you need more.” He gave her a credit card. “Put it on this. It has a zero balance.”

“You want art, too?”

“Sure. You pick it out.”

“I’ll need to spend another fifteen grand on that.”

“Okay. One thing I want is an electric bed. Two electric singles with king sheets and a duvet on top.”

“I can do that. You come to the house at five o’clock on Friday. No peeking before that.”

“You’ve got a date,” he said. “Then I’ll buy you dinner.”

“Done.”

When Stone came down to work, Bob Cantor was waiting for him. “Let me save you some money and pull my guys off Mickey O’Brien,” he said.

“Why?”

“He’s bought a house, and a woman is decorating it for him. He opened an account with a stockbroker. He bought a new Mercedes S560. He’s not after your client’s money, at the moment. Why pay for the moment?”

“Well, my client is out of town anyway,” Stone said. “Pull ’em off and give Joan the bill.”

“I’ll have somebody check on him once a week. If there’s a change in his intentions, we’ll get right on it.”

“All right, all right.”

Bob left Stone and the other Bob, the Labrador retriever, keeping each other company, the Lab in his usual spot by the fireplace.

Jack Coulter was wakened by the sound of the house phone in their apartment at the Breakers. Hillary answered. “Yes?” she said. “Yes?” she went on. “Yes!” she cried. “Please hold.” She put her hand over the phone. “Jack, they’ve come up to a billion three for our share.”

Jack’s eyes opened. “Yes,” he said.

“We’ll take it,” she said. “When do we close? All right.” She hung up. “The buyer is in a hurry. We close in a week.”

“If I’d know he was in a hurry I’d have asked for more,” Jack said.

“You’re so smart!”

“I don’t know anything I didn’t learn up the river,” Jack said. “In the joint, negotiating is a daily practice. You get good at it.”

“Maybe I should have gone to Sing Sing, instead of Bryn Mawr,” she said, laughing.

“I like you the way Bryn Mawr made you,” Jack replied, sitting up. “Can we have some celebratory eggs?”

“What are we going to do with it, Jack?”

“With what?”

“All that money.”

“You have a brokerage account; put it in there.”

“I’m not crazy about those people. I’d like somebody a little more...”

“Aggressive? I’ll think of something. Give me a little time.”

Stone was having his mid-morning coffee when Joan buzzed him. “Jack Coulter on one for you.”

Stone stabbed the button. “Morning, Jack, are you all right?”

“Me? Of course. Oh, you mean Mickey O’Brien.”

“Yes. He’s not a threat at the moment. He’s come into some money, and he’s too busy spending it to think about you.”

“Coming into some money is why I’m calling.”

“Did you hit big with your bookie?”

“No, I took my money back from those people.”

Stone’s jaw dropped. “They let you cash out? I would never have believed it. Those guys never let go of money. How’d you manage it?”

“I asked them nicely.”

Stone burst out laughing. “What does that mean?”

“It means I threatened them if I didn’t have the money back the next day. In prison, I learned to keep my promises, so they believed me. The reason I called was to ask your advice about investing a windfall.”

“Are we talking about your million from the bookie?”

“No, it’s a bit more than that. Hillary is selling the family business, and after a little negotiation, we settled for a billion three.”

“For the whole company? That sounds low.”

“No, her sisters are involved, too. That’s just her share, after taxes.”

Stone was flabbergasted. “Forgive me, Jack, but I don’t often hear that kind of number bandied about, especially after taxes.”

“Me, either. Now, Hillary and I don’t think her broker has been doing a terrific job for her, and I was wondering if you have a recommendation. We’d like someone fairly aggressive.”

“Well, yes, I know somebody.” Stone told him about Triangle Investments, his company with Mike Freeman and Charley Fox. “Charley is an ex — Goldman Sachs guy, whose specialty is mergers and acquisitions. He keeps an eye out for growth companies. We try to get in early. That’s where my money is. Are you in town?”

“No, but we’ll be back in tomorrow. Can we have lunch with you and your colleague, the day after?”

“Certainly.”

“We’re closing in about a week, so we’ll want to move fast, so as not to lose income.”

“I’ll tell Charley that,” Stone said.

“Okay. I’ll see you, say, the day after tomorrow?”

“The Grill at what used to be the Four Seasons, at twelve-thirty.”

“See you there. I’ll introduce you to my new nose.” Jack hung up.

Stone made a conference call to Charley Fox and Mike Freeman.

“Morning, gentlemen,” Stone said. “Are you both in New York?”

“I am,” Charley said.

“I’m in the Gulfstream,” Mike replied, “over the Atlantic, on the way home.”

“Are you both free for lunch the day after tomorrow, at the Grill?”

They both responded in the affirmative.

“I want you to meet some interesting clients of mine, who would like to invest some money with us.”

“I don’t know, Stone,” Charley said. “It’s time-consuming, dealing with more people than just the three of us.”

“How much does he want to invest?” Mike asked.

“One billion, three hundred million dollars.”

“Ignore Charley, Stone. We’ll both see you at lunch.”