Miriam Fisher said. She, Sheldon, and I were sitting in their conference room as she explained the details of Howard’s tax crimes. Thick legal binders were stacked on the table. It had been almost six months since Howard died. My new lawyers were now read up on the case. I trusted them. I liked them. Everything circled back to Howard and his father. Mr. Joynt was involved in the restaurant from the moment in 1969 when he decided to buy it for his son. He bought out the founding partners and negotiated a lease with the landlords’ lawyer, Dimitri Mallios. It wasn’t a very good tenant lease. It heavily favored the Halkias family, who owned the building. Howard had agreed to pay property taxes, insurance, and upkeep for the entire building. He had waived any number of rights. He couldn’t assign the lease without the permission of the landlords, and the lease set a very high base rent for the time—according to real estate experts, the highest per square foot in the city. It was a fabulous location but the rent was unrealistic for a 2,500-square-foot bar and restaurant that served a limited number of people.
