"Ninety million?" Lara had a feeling it was high, but she wanted that site. It would be an exciting beginning. "Is that what we're talking about?"
"We're not talking about anything."
Lara handed Roger Burnham a hundred-dollar bill.
"What's this for?"
"That's for a forty-eight-hour option. All I'm asking is forty-eight hours. You weren't ready to announce that it was for sale anyway. What can you lose? If I meet your asking price, you've got what you wanted."
"I don't know anything about you."
"Call the Mercantile Bank in Chicago. Ask for Bob Vance. He's the president."
He stared at her for a long moment, shook his head, and muttered something with the word "crazies" in it.
He looked up the telephone number himself. Lara sat there while his secretary got Bob Vance for him.
"Mr. Vance? This is Roger Burnham in New York. I have a Miss..." He looked up at her.
"Lara Cameron."
"Lara Cameron here. She's interested in buying a property of ours here, and she says that you know her."
He sat there listening.
"She is...? I see...Really...? No, I wasn't aware of that...Right...Right." After a long time he said, "Thank you very much."
He replaced the receiver and stared at Lara. "You seem to have made quite an impression in Chicago."
"I intend to make quite an impression in New York."
Burnham looked at the hundred-dollar bill. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Buy yourself some Cuban cigars. Do I have the option if I meet your price?"
He sat there, studying her. "It's a little unorthodox...but yes. I'll give you forty-eight hours."
"We have to move fast on this," Lara had told Keller. "We have forty-eight hours to line up our financing."
"Do you have any figures on it?"
"Ball park. Ninety million for the property, and I estimate another two hundred million to demolish the hospital and put up the building."
Keller was staring at her. "That's two hundred and ninety million dollars."
"You were always quick with figures," Lara said.
He ignored it. "Lara, where's that kind of money coming from?"
"We'll borrow it," Lara said. "Between my collateral in Chicago and the new property, it shouldn't be any problem."
"It's a big risk. A hundred things could go wrong. You'll be gambling everything you have on..."
"That's what makes it exciting," Lara said, "the gamble. And winning."
Getting financing for a building in New York was even simpler than in Chicago. Mayor Koch had instituted a tax program called the 421-A, and under it a developer replacing a functionally obsolete building could claim tax exemptions, with the first two years tax-free.
When the banks and savings and loan companies checked on Lara Cameron's credit, they were more than eager to do business with her.
Before forty-eight hours had passed, Lara walked into Burnham's office and handed him a check for three million dollars.
"This is a down payment on the deal," Lara said. "I'm meeting your asking price. By the way, you can keep the hundred dollars."
During the next six months Keller worked with banks on financing, and Lara worked with architects on planning.
Everything was proceeding smoothly. The architects and builders and marketing people were on schedule. Work was to begin on the demolition of the hospital and the construction of the new building in April.
Lara was restless. At six o'clock every morning she was at the construction site watching the new building going up. She felt frustrated because at this stage the building belonged to the workmen. There was nothing for her to do. She was used to more action. She liked to have a half a dozen projects going at once.
"Why don't we look around for another deal?" Lara asked Keller.
"Because you're up to your ears in this one. If you even breathe hard, this whole thing is going to collapse. Do you know you've leveraged every penny you have to put this building up? If anything goes wrong..."
"Nothing is going to go wrong." She was watching his expression. "What's bothering you?"
"The deal you made with the savings and loan company..."
"What about it? We got our financing, didn't we?"
"I don't like the completion date clause. If the building's not finished by March fifteenth, they'll take it over, and you stand to lose everything you have."
Lara thought of the building she had put up in Glace Bay and how her friends had pitched in and finished it for her. But this was different.
"Don't worry," she told Keller. "The building will be finished. Are you sure we can't look around for another project?"
Lara was talking to the marketing people.
"The downstairs retail stores are already signed up," the marketing manager told Lara. "And more than half the condominiums have been taken. We estimate we'll have sold three fourths of them before the building is finished, and the rest of them shortly after."
"I want them all sold before the building is completed," Lara said. "Step up the advertising."
"Very well."
Keller came into the office. "I have to hand it to you, Lara. You were right. The building's on schedule."
"This is going to be a money machine."
On January 15, sixty days before the date of completion, the huge girders and walls were finished, and the workers were already installing the electrical wiring and plumbing lines.
Lara stood there watching the men working on the girders high above. One of the workmen stopped to pull out a pack of cigarettes, and as he did so, a wrench slipped from his hand and fell to the ground far below. Lara watched in disbelief as the wrench came hurtling down toward her. She leaped out of the way, her heart pounding. The workman was looking down. He waved a "sorry."