One of those rules was “Thou Shalt Take a Pass on the Big Ones.” Normal people don’t leave a million dollars lying around. There’s always a story. A divorce, trouble with probate, criminal activity, people fleeing the country or disappearing into the wind. The really big ones were a waste of time. The sweet spot was fifty to a hundred thousand. In a stretch, he would go as high as a quarter million, but he had regretted it every time.

“There’s got to be an army of lawyers circling something this large, Richie. It’s a sucker bet.”

“You’re a lawyer. You could work your magic and get by ’em.”

Ted had a law degree but no license. He’d let it lapse and no longer gave much thought to it.

“It’s the property. The family owned it since the 1880s. One heir. Some lady who never married. She’s like ninetysomething.” Richie was excited. That was never a good sign.

“You mean 1980s.”

“No, like since the Civil War. You know where they started clearing that big lot in Corona? You hear about this?”

About a mile from where they sat, a full four-block area was to be razed and cleared in preparation for the transformation of the neighborhoods surrounding Flushing Meadows Park. There would be a new on/off ramp for the Grand Central Parkway, luxury hotels with views of both the Mets’ ballpark and the tennis stadium, and a combined shopping mall and mixed-use high-rise that would throw a late-afternoon shadow as far as the Nassau County line. The three-letter name of the development corporation, LBC, was chiseled into the cornerstone of dozens of projects around the borough, a brand as recognizable to Queens residents as IKEA or Con Ed. Members of the local community had been fighting this monstrosity in the courts for months. But a day did not go by without an appearance on television of the Chairman and CEO, Ronald (Ron) Reisner, smirking at their failure to stop him. Whether Reisner and his family owned the company or simply acted as if they did was a source of constant speculation in the New York press. Nevertheless, Ted was not surprised that Richie seemed to have only recently become aware of the project.

“I heard someone mention it,” Ted said.

“It’s a big deal,” Richie assured him.

“Mr. Reisner was on the television not two minutes ago.” Ted saw that Reisner had been replaced by a photo of the mayor shaking hands with a parking lot tycoon, who had recently been indicted for extortion, defrauding employees, failure to pay sales tax, and witness tampering.

Richie glanced at the set. “Nah. That ain’t him.”

“I’m sure you’re right.” Conversations with Richie often took these veering turns, and Ted had learned that the only way to keep his sanity was to allow his mind to float above the words and focus on the horizon.