She was surprised. "Then why...?"
"Chicago could use a hotel like that, but I don't think you should build it."
"What do you mean?"
"I would suggest that instead you find an old hotel in a good location and remodel it. There are a lot of rundown hotels that can be bought at a low figure. Your three million dollars would be enough equity for a down payment. Then you could borrow enough from a bank to refurbish it and turn it into your boutique hotel."
Lara sat there thinking. He was right. It was a better approach.
"Another thing, no bank is going to be interested in financing you unless you come in with a solid architect and builder. They'll want to see a complete package."
Lara thought about Buzz Steele. "I understand. Do you know a good architect and builder?"
Howard Keller smiled. "Quite a few."
"Thanks for your advice," Lara said. "If I find the right site, could I come back and talk to you about it?"
"Any time. Good luck."
Lara was waiting for him to say something like "Why don't we talk it over at my apartment?" Instead all Howard Keller said was: "Would you care for more coffee, Miss Cameron?"
Lara roamed the downtown streets again, but this time she was looking for something different. A few blocks from Michigan Avenue, on Delaware, Lara passed a prewar rundown transient hotel. A sign outside said, CONG ESSI NAL HOTEL. Lara started to pass it, then suddenly stopped. She took a closer look. The brick facade was so dirty that it was difficult to tell what its original color had been. It was eight stories high. Lara turned and entered the hotel lobby. The interior was even worse than the exterior. A clerk dressed in jeans and a torn sweater was pushing a derelict out the door. The front desk looked more like a ticket window than a reception area. At one end of the lobby was a staircase leading to what once were meeting rooms, now turned into rented offices. On the mezzanine Lara could see a travel agency, a theater ticket service, and an employment agency.
The clerk returned to the front desk. "You wanna room?"
"No. I wanted to know..." She was interrupted by a heavily made-up young woman in a tight-fitting skirt. "Give me a key, Mike." There was an elderly man at her side.
The clerk handed her a key.
Lara watched the two of them head for the elevator.
"What can I do for you?" the clerk asked.
"I'm interested in this hotel," Lara said. "Is it for sale?"
"I guess everything's for sale. Is your father in the real estate business?"
"No," Lara said, "I am."
He looked at her in surprise. "Oh. Well, the one you want to talk to is one of the Diamond brothers. They own a chain of these dumps."
"Where would I find them?" Lara asked.
The clerk gave her an address on State Street.
"Would you mind if I looked around?"
He shrugged. "Help yourself." He grinned. "Who knows, you might wind up being my boss."
Not if I can help it, Lara thought.
She walked around the lobby, examining it closely. There were old marble columns lining the entrance. On a hunch, Lara pulled up an edge of the dirty, worn carpet. Underneath was a dull marble floor. She walked up to the mezzanine. The mustard-colored wallpaper was peeling. She pulled away an edge of it, and underneath was the same marble. Lara was becoming more and more excited. The handrail of the staircase was painted black. Lara turned to make sure that the room clerk was not watching and took out her key from the Stevens Hotel and scratched away some of the paint. She found what she was hoping for, a solid brass railing. She approached the elevators that were painted with the same black paint, scratched a bit away, and found more brass.
Lara walked back to the clerk, trying to conceal her excitement. "I wonder if I might look at one of the rooms."
He shrugged. "No skin off my nose." He handed her a key. "Four-ten."
"Thank you."
Lara got in the elevator. It was slow and antiquated. I'll have it redone, Lara thought. And I'll put a mural inside.
In her mind she was already beginning to decorate the hotel.
Room 410 looked like a disaster, but the possibilities were immediately evident. It was a surprisingly large room with antiquated facilities and tasteless furniture. Lara's heart began to beat faster. It's perfect, she thought.
She walked downstairs. The stairway was old and had a musty smell. The carpets were worn, but underneath she found the same marble.
Lara returned the key to the desk clerk.
"Did you see what you wanted?"
"Yes," Lara said. "Thank you."
He grinned at her. "You really going to buy this joint?"
"Yes," Lara said. "I'm really going to buy this joint."
"Cool," he said.
The elevator door opened, and the young hooker and her elderly john emerged. She handed the key and some money to the clerk. "Thanks, Mike."
"Have a nice day," Mike called. He turned to Lara. "Are you coming back?"
"Oh, yes," Lara assured him, "I'm coming back."
Lara's next stop was at the City Hall of Records. She asked to see the records on the property that she was interested in. For a fee of ten dollars, she was handed a file on the Congressional Hotel. It had been sold to the Diamond brothers five years earlier for six million dollars.
The office of the Diamond brothers was in an old building on a corner of State Street. An Oriental receptionist in a tight red skirt greeted Lara as she walked in.
"Can I help you?"
"I'd like to see Mr. Diamond."