Brash Endeavor, A Stan Turner Mystery Vol 3 Read online

  Chapter 2

  THE PROMOTER

  During my first week in law practice I made $280, about as much as I had been making per week before I got out of law school. I went ahead and got the American Express Gold Card, with the big $2,000 line of credit, just in case I came up short during the month. Late Monday morning of my second week of practice I got a phone call from Rufus Green.

  "Listen a friend of mine needs an attorney and I thought maybe you and he ought to meet."

  "Sure, that would be great. What kind of work does he need done?"

  "He's a real estate investor. Do you handle real estate?"

  "Oh yeah, of course."

  "Well, he finds apartment houses and commercial buildings for sale and flips them."

  "Flips them?"

  "Yeah, you know, buys them, fixes them up a little and then sells them for a profit."

  "Oh, . . . okay. What does he need me to do?"

  "He needs you to do all of the documentation of the sales."

  "Hmm. Great, that would be excellent," I said.

  "I need to tell you a little about Kurt though."

  "Kurt?"

  "Harrison, Kurt Harrison."

  "Right."

  "Now Kurt moves pretty fast and he needs someone to give him special attention."

  "That shouldn't be a problem at this stage of my career?"

  "Hey, that's right. Will he be your first client?"

  "Just about."

  "Don't tell him that."

  "No, of course not."

  "Anyway, Kurt doesn't have time to come to your office. You'll need to go to his place and he'll need his work done fast."

  "Okay, where does he live?"

  "In Arlington, about 45 minutes from your office."

  "Arlington? That's no problem. When can I meet him?"

  "Can you go over right now?"

  "Now?"

  "I told you he moves fast."

  "Okay, give me an address and I'm on my way."

  "1000 Winding River Trail."

  "Okay, see you in forty-five minutes."

  I had mixed reactions to this sudden new business. In law school I had taken property law but I had never had any practical experience in closing real estate transactions. Now suddenly I was expected to show up at Kurt Harrison's place as a real property expert. Obviously Kurt was going to know a lot about real estate and he would quickly spot my inexperience if I wasn't careful. As I jumped into my white, 1972 Ford Pinto hatchback, butterflies began swarming in my stomach.

  I got out my Mapsco and found Lake View Trail. It was in a ritzy neighborhood about three miles southwest of downtown. When I arrived there I was astonished to see a dozen or so waterfront mansions overlooking a small but scenic lake. The water was choppy as there was a strong wind from the south. Several sailboats were taking advantage of the strong wind. After passing Lake View Country Club, I approached 1000 Lake View Trail, I noticed a large concrete block fence around the perimeter of the property. There was a gate at the front entrance which kept visitors out and required them to request permission to enter. Inside the gate were several Doberman pinchers patrolling the property.

  I pulled up my car to the entrance, stuck my head out the window and pushed the intercom.

  "Yes, who is it," a voice answered.

  "Hi, I'm Stan Turner, I have an appointment with Mr. Harrison."

  "Okay, drive on in," the voice answered.

  The gate slowly opened. I drove down the circular driveway around a large fountain until I was in front of the mansion. There were several vehicles already parked out front including a limousine, a Rolls Royce and a Maserati. I felt humiliated getting out of my dirty old Ford Pinto in the midst of such opulence but there was nothing I could do but swallow my pride and go on inside. I parked my car, walked over to the two large glass front doors and pushed the doorbell. After a minute a pretty young brunette came to the door and opened it.

  "Hi, I'm Stan Turner. I've got an appointment to see Kurt Harrison."

  "Hello Stan, I'm Cynthia Carson, Kurt's personal secretary. Come on in and I'll take you to him."

  "Thank you."

  I was delighted to be greeted by such an attractive and friendly young woman. I walked inside and followed her eagerly through the magnificent living room with its spiral staircase leading up to what appeared to be second floor bedrooms. Upon leaving the living room we entered a large atrium area filled with tropical plants and assorted patio furniture. Cynthia continued on through a door that led into a large den. The room was decorated in an African motif complete with zebra skins and elephant tusks. A slender, good looking young man of no more than thirty years of age was sitting behind a large oak desk reading through some papers.

  "Have a seat," Kurt said.

  "Oh, thanks," I said and sat down in a Zebra skin chair.

  "Can I get you some coffee?"

  "No, I'm fine. . . . Rufus Green tells me you are a real estate investor."

  "That's right. We operate several apartment complexes and office buildings in Dallas, Fort Worth and Amarillo.”

  “Oh, wow. That must keep you busy.”

  “Yes, but fortunately the managers take care of the day to day operations. My main focus is sales and acquisitions.”

  “Oh, right. Rufus mentioned you liked to turn, I mean flip, properties as quick as you can.”

  “Yes, and that’s why I need your services right now. We’re in the middle of an office building rehab project on Turtle Creek."

  "Oh really.

  "Yes, I've got some Canadian investors coming in tomorrow who are going to put up the capital to buy the building and I need the paperwork done by morning."

  "Tomorrow?"

  "Yes, is that a problem?"

  "Ah. . . well, no . . . not at all. How's the deal going to work?"

  "I'll have Cynthia and Dan fill you in on the details, I've got to go meet some people for lunch."

  "Dan?"

  "Yes, he's my partner and CPA. He should be here pretty soon. You can just hang around until he gets here."

  Kurt stood up and started to put on his coat.

  "Okay,” I said and stood up.”

  “Dan will be here in a minute.”

  “Right,” I said and extended my hand. ” Well, it's been nice meeting you.”

  "Likewise, I'll talk to you tomorrow."

  Kurt turned and left the room. Cynthia followed him to the front door and then returned to the den where I was admiring the full size replica of an African Pygmy that adorned one corner of the room.

  "Well, I think Kurt likes you," Cynthia said.

  "Oh . . . really? Well, I hope so."

  "He's very particular about who he deals with. He seemed very comfortable with you."

  "That's good, he seems like a very nice guy."

  "I think you will like him once you get to know him."

  "How long have you been his secretary?"

  "About two years now."

  "Do you handle all his affairs?"

  "I just work part time. I take care of his correspondence, paperwork and appointments. His partner, Dan, handles most of Kurt's financial affairs. I'm working on getting my brokerage license so I can represent Kurt when he buys and sells property."

  "Well, I guess you better fill me in on what's going on since we have a lot of documents to prepare before morning."

  "Sure, what do you need?"

  "I'm going to need the names and addresses of all the buyers and what percentage each is buying, a copy of the previous deed to the property, the purchase price, the details of any financing and any other documentation that you might think is relevant."

  "Okay, I'll start rounding up all that stuff. Would you like a drink?"

  "Sure, what are you having?"

  "I'm going to have some wine?"

  "I'll have the same."

  "Fine, I'll be right back."

  Cynthia left the room and I sat down in a large stuffed ch
air. I didn't usually drink during the middle of the day but it seemed like the right thing to do at that moment. After a few minutes a maid came in with my drink and some cheese and crackers. I dug right in as it was after eleven and I was beginning to get hungry. Several minutes later Cynthia walked in with a glass of wine in her hand. She walked over to Kurt's desk and sat down in the large burgundy chair. She fumbled through some files, took out a stack of papers and copied some names off of a Rolodex. Then she stuffed everything into a file, placed it on the desk in front of her, then looked up and smiled.

  "Dan ought to be here pretty soon to explain the transaction to you in greater detail and outline the financing."

  "That will be fine. How long have Dan and Kurt been partners?"

  "About two years now. They met at a closing in Beverly Hills a couple of years ago and got along so well they decided to become partners. Dan commutes between Beverly Hills and Dallas once a week. He's got a lot of rich clients who are always looking for good real estate ventures."

  As Cynthia was talking the door to the den opened and a robust man with thin curly hair and a red complexion walked in carrying a large briefcase. He smiled at Cynthia who immediately got out of Ken's chair. She stepped aside as he headed straight for Kurt's desk and sat down.

  "Mr. Kelley, this is Stan Turner our new attorney," Cynthia said.

  "Oh, you're the one Rufus spoke so highly about."

  "That's right," Cynthia replied.

  "So did Kurt fill you in on what we are doing?" Mr. Kelley asked.

  "No, not really, he just gave me a quick overview of what he wanted."

  "Well, I'll go through it with you in detail after lunch. You haven't eaten yet have you?"

  "No."

  "Good, let's go get something to eat then."

  "Sure, that would be fine."

  "Cynthia, can you come along?"

  "No, Kurt has some errands I've got to do. You guys go on without me."

  "Okay, come on Stan, I know a place not too far from here with the best steak in Texas."

  "Good."

  Kurt's chauffeur took us to the Texas Cattle Co. where we were escorted past the long lunch line into a private dining area. Everyone seemed to know Dan and went out of their way to please him. After getting a couple of beers Dan began to fill me in on what he and Kurt were doing.

  "We deal mostly with foreign investors from Canada, Japan, Great Britain or wherever else we can find them. When they come into town we wine and dine them of course, but they want to look at the properties and meet our accountants and attorneys before they make a decision. This is where you fit in. Not only do we need you to do our initial contracts and acquisition paperwork but we need you to meet these people and make them feel at ease."

  "Well, I don't see any problem with that, I get along with just about everybody."

  "Good, now about your fee. What do you charge for your services?"

  "My usual charge is $95 per hour."

  "Is that all? That's certainly no problem."

  After lunch we went back to Kurt's place and Dan explained the deal in detail. Then I took the papers Cynthia had gathered for me and headed back to the office. I was excited to get such a great client but I was nervous because I had never done a real estate contract before, and this deal was rather complicated. General Burton had gone to play golf as he usually did in the afternoons so I had the place to myself. I called Rebekah to tell of my good fortune.

  "Is it a big job?"

  "Yeah, it's pretty big. I'm going to have to spend most of the night at the library though."

  "Why? Can't you do it tomorrow?"

  "No, they want to close tomorrow."

  "But you don't have a secretary."

  "I'll just have to type the paperwork myself. Luckily I can go by the Dallas Association of Realtors and get most of the forms I'll need. Then I'll just have to fill in the blanks."

  "I wish you didn't have to work tonight. I haven't seen you all day and the kids are missing you."

  "I know but it's going to take me six or seven hours to do this job so that means I'll make six or seven hundred dollars at $95 per hour. And Dan says there's going to be lot more deals like this coming up."

  "That's good."

  "I could kick myself though."

  "Why?" Rebekah asked.

  "I guess I should have charged a higher hourly rate."

  "Oh really?"

  "Yeah. Dan thought ninety-five dollars per hour was cheap."

  Rebekah shook her head. "These guys must be rolling in the dough if they think that's cheap."

  "Kurt does seem like he's doing well. He lives in a ten thousand square foot house, drives a Maserati and takes his clients around in a limousine."

  "Wow! Is he married?"

  "I don't know. Somehow I don't think so. . . . Well, I've got to get to work Babe. I'll be home pretty late tonight so kiss the kids good night for me and don't wait up."

  "Wait a minute. Reggie wants to talk to you."

  "Okay," I said.

  "Daddy, when are you coming home?"

  "Well, I've got some important work to do, hot shot so I probably won't see you until tomorrow."

  "What do you have to do?"

  "Oh, it's a real estate transaction."

  "What's real estate?"

  "Well, you know, land and buildings like your Fischer-Price Gas Station. If it was real, then that would be real estate."

  "Oh."

  Doing a complex real estate transaction in one night was not easy particularly when I didn't have a secretary and had never done even a simple one before. Luckily, I had worked briefly one summer for an attorney who owned a title company, Ron Johnson, so I called him for some advice. He was very helpful and even let me come by and use his real estate reference books to find some of the less common forms that the Dallas Board of Realtors did not publish. By midnight I had completed the job and went home to bed. Rebekah was still up when I arrived.

  "Stan, you're home. Did you get it all finished?"

  "Yeah, it’s all done and ready for tomorrow morning."

  "Good. What did you say your client's name was?"

  "Kurt Harrison."

  "Did you know he was on the news tonight?" Rebekah asked.

  "No. What did they say about him?"

  "It was something about him refusing to make repairs on some apartments and all his tenants being up in arms."

  "What! You're kidding?"

  "No. Apparently the city issued him 111 separate citations and the TV station was looking for him to get his comments."

  "Oh shit! I can't believe this . . . Kurt is loaded. Why wouldn't he keep his properties up?"

  "I just hope he pays you for all the work you did today."

  "He will . . . surely this must be some mistake."