“Call me Wendell, please,” he said. “And yes, this is quite a nice plot of land. Very set apart.”

Kaplan nodded, cocked a thumb in the direction of the dead end. “Being on this hill, you’d think you were somewhere way out in the country. But right on the bottom’s a street that connects with the busiest neighborhood in the borough.” His smile broadened. “As a kid, I had it made. I could mess around on the hillside and pretend I was lost in the forest. But when I got hungry, I’d climb down to the bottom and head over to the pizza joint up on Main. It’s a five-minute walk.”

Grigor laughed. “Ideal,” he said.

Kaplan looked at him.

“That isn’t a Queens accent I’m hearing,” he said. “You from down South, pardon my nosiness?”

“North Carolina,” Grigor said. “I’m a distributor of imported food, and eighty percent of my business is right here in New York. So I’ve decided to relocate.”

“Wife? Kids?”

“Maybe someday,” Grigor said. “Right now I do too much traveling around.”

“Guess it makes the move easier.”

“Exactly.”

Kaplan nodded and gestured toward the house. “C’mon, I’ll give you the once around. As I said on the phone, my mom kept it in great condition.”

They went inside. The front door opened into a large, bright sunroom with a wide picture window. The room was empty except for a lowered window shade.

“I’ve cleared out all the furniture,” Kaplan said. “Some I kept, some I sold. If you decide to come back for another look, I’ll get a couple lawn chairs out of the garage so we can have coffee.”

Grigor nodded. He followed Kaplan through the house, committing its room layout to memory. In the kitchen, he asked, “Is there a basement? I don’t remember from your listing.”

Kaplan gestured toward a door to his right. “I’ll show it to you,” he said. “My parents never finished it, but Dad used it as his workshop. It’s partially aboveground, so it stays really dry.”

He went to the door, held it open.

Grigor smiled. “After you,” he said.

Kaplan switched on the lights and started down. Grigor counted twelve stairs over his shoulder. They were fairly steep and ran along the wall on the left, with a basic wooden rail on the right side. The floor below was concrete.

Grigor waited until Kaplan took the first step, then pushed him hard with both hands. Kaplan’s feet left the tread and he went flying down to the bottom with a wordless exclamation of shock and surprise. He hit the concrete floor with a dull, meaty thump and Grigor hurried after him.