The House That Jack Built by Graham Masterton Read Free Book Online Page B

came onto the market just last week… here, look, Oscawana, a very fine property with seven bedrooms and four bathrooms and two half-bathrooms, not to mention a pool and a squash court and a view of Lake Oscawana. Here, take a look.'
        He nudged a brochure across his desk but Craig didn't touch it; didn't even drop his eyes to look at it.
        Walter Van Buren eased himself back in his chair and blinked with those colourless eyes and said, 'Valhalla… I have to be frank with you… Valhalla is more what I'd call your serious developer's buy. The house was something special, once upon a time. But it would take hundreds of thousands just to make it liveable. Millions, maybe. We had an approach from Trump but when their surveyors took a look over it… well.'
        'I thought realtors were supposed to sell realty,' Craig riposted. 'You know, stretch the truth a little. Make their property sound temping, even when it's nothing but a crock.'
        'Oh, no, don't get me wrong,' Walter Van Buren retorted, holding up his hand. 'Valhalla has one of the finest locations in the Hudson Valley Highlands. Unparalleled views. Privacy, seclusion. It's a house in a million.'
        'But it's badly run down?' asked Effie, trying to stop Craig from badgering Walter Van Buren so intently, and to see some sense.
        'I can't tell you a lie, Mrs. Bellman.'
        'How badly?' Craig wanted to know.
        Walter Van Buren took a worn green manila folder out of his in-tray and opened it up. He passed over an architectural side-elevation of Valhalla, and a blurry black-and-white aerial photograph. The house was designed in the neo-Gothic style, with tall chimneys and leaded windows, and it was huge.
        'My God,' said Effie, and laughed.
        'Let me put it this way,' said Walter Van Buren. 'This is a house you'd really have to have a passion for.'
        Craig picked up the photograph and stared at it for a long, long time. 'It's incredible. It really is.'
        'Well, it belongs to another time,' Walter Van Buren explained, watching him keenly. 'It belongs to the Rockefeller days, the FDR days, the Vanderbilt days. A very big house for a very big man.'
        'Do you know what needs doing to it, roughly?' asked Craig.
        'As I say, Mr. Bellman, I can't tell you a lie. The whole roof needs fixing, most of the windows need replacement, and like most of these older properties, it'll probably need rewiring, and replumbing, too.'
        'But it could be restored?'
        'By somebody who really had the passion for it, yes.'
        'Craig,' said Effie, 'I hope you're not seriously thinking what I think you're thinking. We need a house like this like a hole in the head.'
        'Oh, come on, sweetheart, I'd still like to take a look at it,' Craig told her. 'Who owns it now?'
        'Well, what does it say here?' said Mr. Van Buren. 'A realty trust fund managed by Fulloni & Jahn, up at Albany. That's unless they've sold it or transferred it without letting us know. We haven't had any enquiries about Valhalla for well over a year.'
        'Maybe I should talk to these Fulloni & Jahn people.'
        'You could, for sure, if you really wanted to. I could give you their number. But I'm just trying to be realistic here, Mr. Bellman. Valhalla could seriously damage your financial health; and I wouldn't want that; because you'd never forgive me for it. Every time you drove past this office or saw me in the street, you'd say, "That's Walter Van Buren, who sold me that goddamned house, and ruined me." ' He gave a little dry laugh that was more like a dog barking.
        'Mr. Van Buren,' said Craig, 'I don't think you understand. I haven't even seen Valhalla from the outside; never laid eyes on it. But the moment we drove up that mountain and stopped outside of those gates... well, I don't know. I felt like I was there for a reason. I felt like I was meant to be there.'
        Walter Van Buren