“But it’s an insulting offer!” he said in a stage whisper. “You can’t possibly consider it!”

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Ramirez’s caps appearing behind a slow grin. Oh, yes, you bastard. This is your birthday on Christmas, isn’t it—getting the deal of a lifetime and screwing some poor sick bastard in the process.

Jack said, “Yes… yes, I see… very well…” He sighed. “I’ll tell him.”

Jack hit the end button on the phone, took a dramatically deep breath, then turned to face Ramirez.

“Well,” he said. “Mr. Gates has expressed some interest—limited interest—in your offer. But he has two conditions if he’s going to sell for that price.”

“Yes?” Ramirez was keeping a calm front, but Jack could tell he was ready to Macarena down the hall.

“You must close in fifteen days.”

Ramirez was polishing his diamond ring against the sleeve of his blazer. “That is possible.”

“And…” This was the biggee. This was where Jack knew he’d either reel Ramirez in or lose him completely. “He wants a twelve-thousand-dollar deposit in cash.”

Ramirez stopped polishing and looked up. “In cash? That is an unusual request. In my many, many real estate dealings I have never left a cash deposit.”

“Yes,” Jack said, “you’re absolutely right. Most unusual. In fact, it’s absurd, and I’m sure you want no part of it.”

Now it was Jack’s turn to play hard to get. Risky, but the only way he could see Ramirez coming up with the cash. He took Ramirez’s elbow and guided him from the sitting room toward the front hall.

“Thank you for your interest, Mr. Ramirez. I’ll inform Mr. Gates that you wouldn’t agree—”

Ramirez pulled his arm free. “One moment. I did not say it was unacceptable. Just that it was unusual. Perhaps a smaller amount in cash.”

“No, I’m afraid not. The twelve thousand is what Mr. Gates said, and twelve thousand is what it must be. If that’s too steep—”

The doorbell rang.

What the hell…?

Jack poked his head through the doorway into the front hall.

Someone was standing at the front door. Jack couldn’t make out who it was through the etched glass, but he knew it had to be bad news. No one was supposed to be here but Ramirez and him.

Maybe if he ignored the bell…

Another ring.

Clenching his teeth and silently cursing, he stepped into the front hall and pulled open the door.

A stocky Oriental in a way expensive charcoal-gray business suit and black fedora stood on the stoop. He could have been Harold Sakata doing Oddjob from Goldfinger.

“I am looking for David Johns,” the man said. “Is he here?”

Who’s this? Jack thought. Someone from Hudak Realty?