JFK Slept Here

For several years, Castle and his wife owned a small condo in Florida that they repaired to in the winter months. Once their children went off to college in 1993, they began searching for a more permanent home there.

When Castle first spotted the Sotheby's advertisement for the Kennedy compound with its adjacent carriage house, it was listed at $7.6 million. Castle toured the home, and it seemed to overflow with Kennedys. He remembers seeing Eunice Shriver and Pat Lawford, along with children and grandchildren and friends. "There were pretty young girls running around in bathing suits, and people were on the beach and jumping in the pool," recalls Castle. "I walked into the dining room, and there was this little kid there crying because his huggy bear was missing. He turned out to be the president's grandson, Caroline Kennedy's boy."

Six weeks later, Castle decided to make a bid. An hour after faxing his first offer to the lawyers representing Rose Kennedy, Castle turned on the television and learned that Rose, the beloved family matriarch, had just died. "I wasn't sure whether it was a reaction to my bid," the notorious cheapskate laughs.

His first offer, at $5.3 million, not only shaved $2.3 million off the asking price but was also contingent on the town's approval of his fairly extensive plans to renovate the property. One alteration called for the addition of a new wing--for an open and breezy den--next to the swimming pool. It didn't take all that long for Palm Beach authorities to turn him down. Undaunted, he went back to renegotiate. "Every time the town turned us down, I lowered my offer," he says. "I'd go back and say, 'Sorry about this. But we have a few more problems.' " Eventually, Castle wheedled the price down to $4,920,000.

Befitting his negotiating skills and his will to drive a hard bargain, Castle also managed to buy much of the original furniture in the house for an extra $80,000--a pittance considering that only a year later, one of JFK's humidors from Jackie's estate fetched $575,000 at auction. Among the items that Castle acquired were the beds of Joe, Jack, Bobby, and Ted, along with the 18-foot-long dining-room table around which Joe had gathered the clan for some 60 years. There's even Jack Kennedy's mahogany massage table and a chest of drawers that once belonged to Rose. Each drawer bears a label in her handwriting describing the contents: "hose," "panties," "brassieres," "black underwear," and "girdles."

For just $80,000, Castle bought JFK's bed, the Kennedy dining table, and a chest of drawers for Rose's intimate apparel.

Castle closed on the house in May 1995, but it took more than two years--and more than 300 inspections by Palm Beach building authorities--to complete the renovations. He figures he invested more than $6 million to fix the place up.

Every detail mattered. The nine swaying palm trees on the vast lawn where the Kennedys played football, for example, had died and were re-moved. He planted new ones within 6 inches of their original arcs and shapes circa 1963. Castle even kept several of the family's longtime aides, including Leo Racine, who first came to work for Joe Kennedy in 1948 and handled some of the money for John Kennedy's presidential bid. When cash had to be wired to a local bank from the Kennedy account for the campaign, the code words to get the money were "Viva Leo."

"Truly great investments come from being highly objective," says Castle. Like any good Castle deal, the house seems to be a financial winner; Castle says he has already turned down an unsolicited offer of more than $20 million. But clearly, the Kennedy house is more than just another investment. The place has become Castle's sanctuary.

An avowed Republican, Castle says he draws inspiration from the home and the history it evokes. He can imagine the president on the back patio, in a chair, listening to the waves lapping onto the beach. He can even imagine JFK thinking deeply about the country and the world. "I think this house may have been very important to this president in coming up with the strategic direction of this nation," says Castle. "He had a notion for where the country should go and his vision was certainly more vivid than any president since him."

The Kennedys still come to visit occasionally. A couple of years ago, a man with two children in a Mustang convertible pulled into the driveway and kept ringing the doorbell at the gate. The man said he was Robert Kennedy Jr. and wanted to show his children the house. Castle sent his young chef down to look him over. "It's probably him," she said after a quick peek. Castle went to the gate and grilled him just as he would question any of his CEOs.

"What's the private telephone number in the house?" he asked. The man quickly gave the correct answer.

"Who lived in the carriage house?" queried Castle, getting into the game of it.