Kim Robinson - New York 2140

“Which firm?”

“Adirondack.”

“No way. Really?”

“Yes, but why do you say that?”

“Was it Larry Jackman who was his cousin?”

“No, a Henry Vinson. He runs his own fund now, Alban Albany. But he was the CEO of Adirondack at the time of the Senate investigation. But why do you ask about Larry Jackman?”

Charlotte rolled her eyes. “Because Jackman was the CFO at Adirondack. Also he’s my ex.”

“Ex-husband?”

“Yes.” Charlotte shrugged. “It was a long time ago. We were going to NYU at the time. We got married to see if that would help keep us together.”

“Good idea,” Gen said, and was relieved when Charlotte laughed.

“Yes,” Charlotte admitted, “always a good idea. Anyway, the marriage only lasted a couple of years, and after we broke up I didn’t see him for a long time. Then we crossed paths a few times, and now we’ve got each other’s contacts, and we get together for coffee every once in a while.”

“He’s something in government now, if I recall right?”

“Chairman of the Federal Reserve.”

“Wow,” Gen said.

Charlotte shrugged. “Anyway, he doesn’t talk about family much, so I just thought this Jeff Rosen might turn out to be one of his cousins.”

“Lots of people have lots of cousins.”

“Yeah. Both of Larry’s parents had lots of siblings. But go on—it was Vinson who Jeffrey Rosen is related to, you say. So why do you find this connection interesting?”

“It’s just a way in,” Gen said. “These guys are missing, and there’s been no trace of them physically or electronically. They haven’t used their cards or pinged the cloud, which is hard to do for long. That can mean bad things, of course. But also it leaves us without anything to look at. When that happens, we look at anything we can. This connection isn’t much, but the Senate investigation included Adirondack, and Rosen recused himself.”

“And Jackman now runs the Fed,” Charlotte added, looking a little grim. “I remember something about how he left Adirondack. The board of directors chose Vinson as the CEO over him, so pretty soon he left and started something on his own. He never said much about it to me, but I got the impression it was kind of a painful sequence.”

“Maybe so. My sergeant says it looks like Adirondack blew up. Then more recently, Rosen and Muttchopf did some contract work for Vinson’s hedge fund, Alban Albany, enough to get them tax forms for last year. So there’s another connection.”

“But it’s the same connection.”

“But twice. I’m not saying it means anything, but it gives us something to look at. Vinson has any number of colleagues and acquaintances, and so did Muttchopf and Rosen. And Adirondack is one of the world’s biggest investment firms. So there are more threads to follow. You see how it goes.”

“Sure.”

Gen watched her closely as she said, “Please don’t say anything about this to Larry Jackman.”

Would she understand that this request meant there might be lines of inquiry that led back to her?

She did. She followed the implications and blanked her features. “No, of course not,” she said. “I mean, we very seldom see each other, as I said.”

“Good. That means it won’t be hard.”

“Not at all.”

“So tell me again how the two guys came here?”

“They had a friend in the Flatiron Building, and they were camping out on its roof farm looking across the square at us, so when the Flatiron board told them to leave, they came over and asked if they could stay.”

“So they applied to the residency board?”

“They asked Vlade, and Vlade asked me, and I met with them and thought they were okay, so I asked the residency board to let them stay on a temp permit. I thought we could use their help analyzing the building’s reserve fund, which isn’t doing very well.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“It’s been in the minutes.”

Gen shrugged. “I don’t usually read those.”

“I don’t think many people do.”

Gen thought it over. “Do you often intervene like that with the residents’ board?”

Now she would definitely know she was being questioned with purpose.

She nodded as if to acknowledge that, and said, “I do it from time to time, if I see a situation where I think I can help people and help the building. I think the board doesn’t like it, because we’re a little overfull. So they have enough going on with the regular waiting list. Plus special cases of their own.”

“But openings keep happening.”

“Sure. Hardly anyone actually moves out, but a lot of residents have been here for a long time, and there’s a certain mortality rate.”

“People are reliable that way.”

“Yes.”

“That’s why I’m here, actually. I moved in to take care of my mom after my dad died, and when she died, I inherited her co-op membership.”

“Ah. When was that?”

“Three years ago.”

“So maybe that’s why you’re a member of the co-op but don’t pay attention to the building’s business.”

Gen shrugged. “I thought you said hardly anyone did.”

“Well, the reserve finances are a little esoteric. But it’s a co-op, you know. So actually a lot of people keep their hand in the game one way or other.”

“I probably should,” Gen allowed.

Charlotte nodded at this, but then something else struck her: “Everyone’s going to know pretty soon about something that came up at the last board meeting. There’s been an offer made on the building.”

“Someone wants to buy the whole building?”

“That’s right.”

“Who?”

“We don’t know. They’re operating through a broker.”

Gen had a tendency to see patterns. No doubt it was an effect of her job, and she recognized that, but she couldn’t help herself. As here: someone disappears from a building, they have powerful relatives and colleagues, the building gets an offer. She couldn’t help wondering if there was a connection. “We can refuse the offer, right?”

“Sure, but we probably have to vote on it. Get an opinion from the membership, even a decision. And the offer is for about twice what the building is worth, so that will tempt a lot of people. It’s almost like a hostile takeover bid.”

“I hope it doesn’t happen,” Gen said. “I don’t want to move, and I bet not many residents here want to either. I mean, where would we go?”

Charlotte shrugged. “Some people think money can solve anything.”

Gen said, “How can you tell if their bid is twice what the building’s worth? How can anyone tell what anything is worth these days?”

“Comparisons to similar deals,” Charlotte said.

“Are deals like this going down?”

“Quite a few. I talk to people on the boards of other buildings, and Lemmas meets once a month, and a lot of people are reporting offers, even a couple of buyouts. I hate what it means.”

“What does it mean?”

“Well, I think that now that sea level appears to have stabilized, and people have gotten past the emergency years—well, that was a huge effort. That took a lot of wet equity.”

“The greatest generation,” Gen quoted.

“People like to think so.”

“Especially people of that generation.”

“Exactly. The comebackers, the water rats, the what-have-yous.”

“Our parents.”

“That’s right. And really, they did a lot. I don’t know about you, but the stories my mom used to tell, and her dad…”

Gen nodded. “I’m a fourth-generation cop, and keeping some kind of order through the floods was hard. They had to hold the line.”

“I’m sure. But now, you know, lower Manhattan is an interesting place. So people are talking investment opportunities and regentrification. New York is still New York. And uptown is a monster. And billionaires from everywhere like to park money here. If you do that you can drop in occasionally and have a night on the town.”