Manhattan Noir - Lawrence Block [75]
“It will only get more valuable,” he countered. “Nothing will bring it down. It didn’t go when the Towers went down. I was watching on CNN thinking, Oh, God, the Empire State Building’s next, I’ll never get my price without the view. Then I realized the terrorists don’t know from shit about the Empire State Building. You gotta be a New Yorker to love the Empire State Building—sure enough, they went for the Pentagon.”
He was right. It would not be the most beautiful apartment in New York without that spire changing colors by the hour.
Richard said, “Nothing but a haunting will ever bring it down, Joe. And don’t get any ideas, because this building is not haunted and never has been. No scary ghosts, no evil spirits. It’s a great investment. Turn around and sell it in a flash. For profit.”
“I’m looking for a home, not a stepping stone.”
“Everyone wants to move up.”
“Not me. This is up.” Another mistake I realized as soon as I said it. I had told him exactly how much I wanted it and he didn’t bother to conceal a smile.
Tommy King stepped in, too late to repair the damage, saying, “Listen, Richard, thanks. We gotta split. We’ll come back tomorrow. Seven o’clock?”
Richard touched my arm, exuding fatherly concern.
“You might want to think about if you really belong in New York.”
“Beg pardon?”
“A lot of people your age who can’t afford New York are buying in Brooklyn. Manhattan may not be your town.”
On the street Tommy said, “I thought you were going to slug him.”
I turned on him. “Next time you see a class of high school tourists from the boonies? Look for the straggler staring at the skyscrapers. That’s the kid who’s coming back. Manhattan’s been my ‘town’ since I came here on my senior trip. I don’t care who’s moving to fucking Brooklyn, I’m not.”
“Whoa. I believe you, man. You turned red as brake lights. First time I’ve seen fire in your eyes.”
“I’ve settled for second best too many times.” I couldn’t believe I had just admitted that out loud, but I was so upset I dropped every defense and proceeded to spill my guts to Tommy King. “I didn’t hold out for an Ivy League college. I didn’t fight to get into a first-rank law school. I didn’t hold out for the job that really would have gone someplace.”
“You’re general counsel of the biggest printing company in the city.”
“I sign off on contracts. If a problem gets interesting, I’m told to hire outside counsel. I married a woman mainly because I didn’t know how to say no when she asked. And I didn’t fight for a fair divorce. I’m through settling. I’m through letting things happen to me. I want that apartment.”
“I believe you, man. You look like I feel about my ex.”
“I really blew it with Richard, didn’t I?”
Tommy said, “I bought it today.”
“What? Bought what?”
“Scalpel.”
“What?” I said again, though I knew what he meant.
“It’s just a skinny little handle with a bunch of blades. Like razors. Cops’ll figure some kid got her with a box cutter.”
I figured it was time to get a new real estate guy. Tommy King was nuts—creepy nuts—telling me all this because in his twisted heart he really believed that he was right and she was evil. It didn’t matter that he was the listing broker. Richard would sell to whatever fool paid his ridiculous price.
On the way home I got a call from another broker at Tommy’s agency, a partner named Marcy Stern, a woman with a shrill, demanding manner that matched her pointy face and darting eyes. “Listen, Joe, you’re out of there tomorrow morning.”
I was living rent free, baby-sitting an apartment for sale.
Tommy had gotten me the gig and I figured I was safe until I found a place of my own because the plain white box in an ugly white box building was listed for an insane price. Wrong about that. “How can you close in one day?”
“All cash deal. The client wants to dump his stuff before he hops his flight to Singapore. Get your junk out by 8.”
“Didn’t I sign something that said I’d get a couple of days notice?”
“Not if you want help getting another free place. Call Tommy King.” Tommy had a similar live-in security