Hotel Esper, Williamsburg
I left Leonie in her room and went down to the lobby. I called Russell Ming’s property company, now owned by his wife.
‘Ming Properties,’ the woman answering the phone said.
‘Hi, may I speak to,’ and I looked again at the name I’d jotted down, the one under the number on the Ming Properties sign, ‘Beth Marley?’
‘This is she.’ She sounded bright and enthusiastic, like talking to me was the highlight of her day. I’m sure it was.
‘My name is Sam Capra, and I’m interested in the building in Williamsburg.’
‘Oh, great.’
‘I own the The Last Minute Bar, over by Bryant Park.’
‘I know that bar!’ she said.
‘Oh, that’s great. I’m interested in leasing some property in Brooklyn that you own, in Williamsburg. Would it be possible to see it today?’
‘Today might be difficult, sir. What about tomorrow?’
‘I’m just in town for the day. In fact, I might be interested in leasing the whole building. I just happened to see it and think it’s perfect for what I need.’
‘Well. Okay, let me do a little juggling.’ I could hear her flipping papers. ‘Sure. I could do eleven o’clock, would that work?’
‘You’re so kind. That will be great. I’ll just meet you there, okay?’
‘Thanks, Mr Capra.’
I hung up and went back to the hotel room. ‘Well, that was easy. I have an appointment.’
Leonie, crouching over her computer, didn’t answer.