four purchasers.”
Just four? As patterns went, they didn't get much easier to see. “So are they turkey buzzards waiting to swoop down on an easy meal or are they gallant white knights responding to the cries of a sweet damsel in distress?”
“Miss Lindsay sees them as knights.”
“She contacts them, offering the property for sale?”
Ben nodded. “That's been my observation, sir. Mr. Patterson developed the strategy years ago and Miss Lindsay adopted it when she became responsible for conducting the company affairs.”
“And these good-hearted fellows come into the office with pennies on a plate and take the dying critter off their hands.”
“Actually, the transaction is done by correspondence,” Ben clarified. “I don't recall ever seeing or hearing of a face-to-face meeting.”
The hairs on the back of Jackson's neck prickled. Never in all his life had he bought or sold anything without looking the other man in the eye. It had never occurred to him that any other way was acceptable. Trust was a good thing, but it only went so far and it was best to back it up with a sure and certain knowledge of who you were dealing with. Conducting business blindly could—and usually did—lead to costlymistakes in judgment. Surely Richard Patterson knew that, had passed the lesson on to Lindsay. “Do you get the impression that Lindsay knows these gentlemen personally?”
“No, sir. I do believe, though, that Mr. Patterson knew them many years ago. However, all of his day-to-day relationships ended with his injury in the accident. He rarely goes anywhere but here and his home.”
Jackson saw the seed of reassurance in the answer, but didn't find any sense of ease in it. “Three questions, Ben. Answer them in any order that you'd prefer. Are these businessmen here in New York? Have you tracked down what happens to the businesses they've bought? And are there any transactions currently pending?”
“In the order in which you asked, sir: no, no, and yes.”
Ben had picked one helluva time to try a bit of humor. Jackson smiled wryly. “I'd appreciate it if you'd back up your pony and take it through the gate again.”
Ben blinked repeatedly and then his mouth formed an O of understanding. “Do all Texans have such wonderful twists of speech?”
“I suppose so,” Jackson answered as patiently as he could. “I don't seem to recall anyone ever stopping in their tracks to admire someone's words as unusual, so I have to think that we all speak pretty much the same way.”
Ben contemplated this for a moment, then nodded and seemed to resolutely set aside his wayward thoughts. “One of the companies is located in Philadelphia, one in Richmond, one in Charleston, and another in Boston. Looking into what happens to the various properties after their sale would require a great deal of time and some expense. I haven't had the resources to satisfy what has been, to this point, an idle curiosity. As for pending transactions … Miss Lindsay has recently sent out letters to all four companies offering them land she holds in St Louis and—”
“That would be the property where the warehouse burned,” Jackson mused.
“Yes, sir. Mr. Patterson and she concluded that there were insufficient financial resources to rebuild it. If one of the gentlemen doesn't respond with an offer, she'll let the bank have it. The second property on which she's requestedan offer is the bank in Kentucky. I don't know what she thinks to do if an offer isn't tendered on it.”
Jackson didn't either and he made himself a mental note to ask her. He'd also ask her why the hell she was doing business not only blind, but over long distances. “Tell me something, Ben,” he ventured. “While she waits for the mail to move back and forth between here and the other cities, the value of what she's offering declines even further, doesn't it?”
“That is generally the case, sir.”
“Why doesn't she sell the properties to someone here in town?
Just four? As patterns went, they didn't get much easier to see. “So are they turkey buzzards waiting to swoop down on an easy meal or are they gallant white knights responding to the cries of a sweet damsel in distress?”
“Miss Lindsay sees them as knights.”
“She contacts them, offering the property for sale?”
Ben nodded. “That's been my observation, sir. Mr. Patterson developed the strategy years ago and Miss Lindsay adopted it when she became responsible for conducting the company affairs.”
“And these good-hearted fellows come into the office with pennies on a plate and take the dying critter off their hands.”
“Actually, the transaction is done by correspondence,” Ben clarified. “I don't recall ever seeing or hearing of a face-to-face meeting.”
The hairs on the back of Jackson's neck prickled. Never in all his life had he bought or sold anything without looking the other man in the eye. It had never occurred to him that any other way was acceptable. Trust was a good thing, but it only went so far and it was best to back it up with a sure and certain knowledge of who you were dealing with. Conducting business blindly could—and usually did—lead to costlymistakes in judgment. Surely Richard Patterson knew that, had passed the lesson on to Lindsay. “Do you get the impression that Lindsay knows these gentlemen personally?”
“No, sir. I do believe, though, that Mr. Patterson knew them many years ago. However, all of his day-to-day relationships ended with his injury in the accident. He rarely goes anywhere but here and his home.”
Jackson saw the seed of reassurance in the answer, but didn't find any sense of ease in it. “Three questions, Ben. Answer them in any order that you'd prefer. Are these businessmen here in New York? Have you tracked down what happens to the businesses they've bought? And are there any transactions currently pending?”
“In the order in which you asked, sir: no, no, and yes.”
Ben had picked one helluva time to try a bit of humor. Jackson smiled wryly. “I'd appreciate it if you'd back up your pony and take it through the gate again.”
Ben blinked repeatedly and then his mouth formed an O of understanding. “Do all Texans have such wonderful twists of speech?”
“I suppose so,” Jackson answered as patiently as he could. “I don't seem to recall anyone ever stopping in their tracks to admire someone's words as unusual, so I have to think that we all speak pretty much the same way.”
Ben contemplated this for a moment, then nodded and seemed to resolutely set aside his wayward thoughts. “One of the companies is located in Philadelphia, one in Richmond, one in Charleston, and another in Boston. Looking into what happens to the various properties after their sale would require a great deal of time and some expense. I haven't had the resources to satisfy what has been, to this point, an idle curiosity. As for pending transactions … Miss Lindsay has recently sent out letters to all four companies offering them land she holds in St Louis and—”
“That would be the property where the warehouse burned,” Jackson mused.
“Yes, sir. Mr. Patterson and she concluded that there were insufficient financial resources to rebuild it. If one of the gentlemen doesn't respond with an offer, she'll let the bank have it. The second property on which she's requestedan offer is the bank in Kentucky. I don't know what she thinks to do if an offer isn't tendered on it.”
Jackson didn't either and he made himself a mental note to ask her. He'd also ask her why the hell she was doing business not only blind, but over long distances. “Tell me something, Ben,” he ventured. “While she waits for the mail to move back and forth between here and the other cities, the value of what she's offering declines even further, doesn't it?”
“That is generally the case, sir.”
“Why doesn't she sell the properties to someone here in town?
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