“Define ‘success.’ ”
“The residents stay put and don’t roam out in the community to hurt or kill someone.”
“Where do I sign?” said Milo.
Koppel smiled. “I should’ve known listening to Mary would never lead me wrong.” He shifted his bulk in the recliner. “Now she’s gone. I can’t believe it—is there anything else I can tell you?”
“Back to the halfway houses, sir. Great deal notwithstanding, have you ever had any problems with tenant violence?”
“Not to my knowledge. But I wouldn’t know.”
“Why not?”
“All that’s handled in-house,” said Koppel. “I’m not a warden. I just own the building, and the state runs it. Why, do you think one of those lowlifes killed Mary?”
“There’s no evidence of that,” said Milo. “Just covering all bases.” He opened his pad. “What’s Charitable Planning all about?”
“My foundation,” said Koppel. “I give away ten percent a year. Of after-tax income.”
“We’ve been in the building a few times and never saw any activity on the ground floor.”
“That’s because there isn’t much. Twice a month, I go in and write checks to worthy causes. It takes a while because the solicitations come in constantly, everything really piles up.”
“An entire ground-floor suite for you to write checks? That’s Beverly Hills space, Mr. Koppel. Why don’t you rent it out?”
“I had a deal, last year, for a tenant to take the whole floor. An online brokerage. You know what happened to the market. The deal fell through. I was planning to subdivide—rent most of it out and leave a small office for Charitable Planning. But Mary asked me to put a hold on that until she and Larsen and Gull could decide if they wanted it.”
“Why would they want it?”
“To expand their practice. They were talking about doing group therapy, needed larger rooms. The only space I use is a small office, the rest is empty. Mary was supposed to tell me in a week or so.”
“Group therapy,” I said.
“From a business standpoint, I thought it was a smart idea. Treat the max number of patients in the shortest time. I joked with Mary that it had sure taken her a long time to figure it out.” Koppel smiled. “She said, ‘Sonny, you’re the moneyman, and I’m the healer. Let’s stick to what we know.”
He tugged the side of his mouth, ate some popcorn.
Milo showed him the picture of the dead girl.
Koppel chewed faster, swallowed hard. “Who’s that?”
“Someone else who got killed.”
“Someone else? Related to Mary?”
“Don’t know, sir.”
“You’re saying what happend was part of something . . . that it wasn’t just Mary?”
Milo shrugged.
“What’s really going on, Lieutenant?”
“That’s all I can tell you, sir. Does the name Flora Newsome mean anything to you?”
Koppel shook his head. Glanced at the photo. “That’s her?”
“What about Gavin Quick?”
“I know a Quick,” said Koppel, “but not Gavin.”
“Who do you know?”
“Jerry Quick—Jerome Quick. He’s one of my tenants. Who’s Gavin? His son? The one who had the accident?”
“You know about the accident.”
“Jerry told me about it, said his son was having some emotional problems. I referred him to Mary.”
“How long has Mr. Quick been your tenant?”
“Four months.” He frowned.
“Good tenant?” said Milo.
“He pays his rent, but not always on a timely basis. I felt a little . . . used. Especially after I listened to his problems and gave him a referral. I’ve had to pay Jerry a few visits.” He smiled. “That’s not what it sounds like—no goons with baseball bats, we just talked, and, eventually, he paid.”
“Why would I assume goons with baseball bats, sir?”
Koppel flushed. “You wouldn’t. So what’s with Gavin?”
“He’s deceased.”
“Murdered also?”
“Yes, sir.”
“My God—what’s the connection to Mary?”
“All we know at this time was that Gavin was her patient, and they’re both dead.”
“My God,” Koppel repeated. “There’s a lot you can’t tell me.”
“Is there something more you could tell us, sir?”
Koppel considered that. “I wish there was. Mary and I—we rarely spoke, except when there was a business issue. Even then, there was little to talk about. I set up our partnership so she didn’t have to be hands-on. She had her practice, she didn’t need to be distracted. Because properties can be demanding. To make them work you have to give them attention like children. I’m on the road all the time.”