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ever get: Forget it. Real estate development is a man’s game. There’s no place for women in it.’

      ‘And why is that?’ Lara asked tonelessly.

      ‘Because you’d be dealing with a bunch of macho roughnecks. They’d eat you alive.’

      ‘They didn’t eat me alive in Glace Bay,’ Lara said.

      He leaned forward. ‘I’m going to let you in on a little secret. Chicago is not Glace Bay.’

      

      At the next bank, the manager said to her, ‘We’ll be glad to help you out, Miss Cameron. Of course, what you have in mind is out of the question. What I would suggest is to let us handle your money and invest it …’

      Lara was out of his office before he finished his sentence.

      

      At the third bank, Lara was ushered into the office of Bob Vance, a pleasant-looking, grey-haired man who looked exactly as the president of a bank should look. In the office with him was a pale, thin, sandy-haired man in his early thirties, wearing a rumpled suit, and looking completely out of place.

      ‘This is Howard Keller, Miss Cameron, one of our vice presidents.’

      ‘How do you do?’

      ‘What can I do for you this morning?’ Bob Vance asked.

      ‘I’m interested in building a hotel in Chicago,’ Lara said, ‘and I’m looking for finance.’

      Bob Vance smiled. ‘You’ve come to the right place. Do you have a location in mind?’

      ‘I know the general area I want. Near the loop, not too far from Michigan Avenue …’

      ‘Excellent.’

      Lara told him about her boutique hotel idea.

      ‘That sounds interesting,’ Vance said. ‘And how much equity do you have?’

      ‘Three million dollars. I want to borrow the rest.’

      There was a thoughtful pause. ‘I’m afraid I can’t help you. Your problem is that you have big ideas and a small purse. Now, if you would like us to invest your money for you …’

      ‘No, thank you,’ Lara said. ‘Thanks for your time. Good afternoon, gentlemen.’ She turned and left the office, fuming. In Glace Bay three million dollars was a fortune. Here, people seemed to think it was nothing.

      As Lara reached the street, a voice said, ‘Miss Cameron!’

      Lara turned. It was the man she had been introduced to – Howard Keller. ‘Yes?’

      ‘I’d like to talk to you,’ he said. ‘Perhaps we could have a cup of coffee.’

      Lara stiffened. Was everyone in Chicago a sex maniac?

      ‘There’s a good coffee shop just around the corner.’

      Lara shrugged. ‘All right.’

      When they had ordered, Howard Keller said, ‘If you don’t mind my butting in, I’d like to give you some advice.’

      Lara was watching him, wary. ‘Go ahead.’

      ‘In the first place, you’re going about this all wrong.’

      ‘You don’t think my idea will work?’ she asked stiffly.

      ‘On the contrary. I think a boutique hotel is a really great idea.’

      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 pre-war, 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 façade was so dirty that it was difficult to tell what its original colour had been. It was eight storeys 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 of 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 theatre 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-coloured 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 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

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