Stone cut the power and let the boat drift. He motioned to Dino for a beer. “Shoot.” He pressed the speaker button on his phone.
“After some of our conversations, I got more and more worried about what’s going on in this deal. For a start, and I’ll tell you this just once and deny I ever said it, the offer for Elijah Keating’s Sons is eight hundred million dollars.”
“Holy shit!” Stone gasped. “And he was offering Evan only twenty-one million of that?”
“I don’t have any more to say about the deal,” Eggers said. “Last night I hatched a plan: I made a phone call to a law firm we’ve dealt with in Torrington, one that has done no business with the Keatings, then I dictated some documents by phone that were typed up this morning. Then I went to Torrington.”
“To resign the account, I hope.”
“Shut up and listen, Stone. I’m enjoying telling you about this.”
“Sorry, go on.”
“I went out to the Happy Hills place that Warren had stuffed his father into, and I brazened my way in and got to see Eli Keating.”
“How was he?”
“A little woozy from whatever they’ve been dosing him with, but pretty sharp. Once I ascertained that, I put my plan into motion. First, my secretary faxed a letter of resignation to Warren Keating, specifically stating that I would continue to represent Eli until the old man fi red me.”
“Bully for you!”
“Then a call went in to the Torrington law firm, and one of their attorneys hotfooted it to the courthouse, armed with a court order freeing Eli and negating Warren’s guardianship, and barged in on the local judge. He also took an affidavit from me, saying that Eli is compos mentis and desires to leave Happy Hills immediately.
“Then I went down to Eli’s room, which was little more than a cell, really, stuffed his clothes into a suitcase and drove him to his home. By this time, Warren had found another lawyer and was arguing with the judge, but by the time we got to Eli’s place, the judge had signed off on it, a little late perhaps, but Eli is back in charge of his life.”
“Hallelujah!” Stone shouted.
“Eli called his old secretary, got her out of retirement and over to his house, and she’s taken charge of running his life. Warren will never get hold of him again, if I have anything to say about it, and Eli has withdrawn his permission for the deal to go through. In fact, he says he never signed it, so that means that Warren or somebody who works for him forged the document.”
“What happens now?”
“Eli likes the sale, but he’s going to be dealing directly with the buyers, and distribution of the proceeds will be made according to the original will of Elijah Keating.”
“I hate it that Warren will still get a bundle.”
“I’m going to see what I can do about that,” Eggers said.
“I’m really delighted to hear all this, Bill.”
“I’m pretty delighted with it myself,” Eggers said. “Warren may sue the firm, but with everything we’ve got on him, we’ll have him for lunch.”
“I’ll be very happy to testify to my part in this,” Stone said.
“Now, this is the sad part, Stone,” Eggers said. “Tonight is your last night in Key West on my dime. You get your ass out of there tomorrow or start using your own credit card, you hear?”
“I hear you, Bill.” Then he thought about that. “Dino and I may stick around for a couple more days and start enjoying ourselves, instead of working so hard.”
Dino had to put a hand over his mouth to keep from hooting.
“Do whatever you like,” Eggers said. “Oh, you might spend the rest of your time today trying to find Evan Keating and telling him to get in touch with his grandfather.”
“I’ll do that,” Stone said.
“Now I have to get back with Eli and paper over any cracks in all this,” Eggers said. “So bye-bye.” He hung up.
“Isn’t that great?” Stone said to Dino.
“Couldn’t be better,” Dino said. “We’re going to stick around for a couple more days?”
“Have you got the time?”
“I’ve got the days, and my captain is on vacation in the Bahamas, so he can hardly squawk. You still want to find Evan, don’t you?”
“Yes, I do. I’d like to wrap this up neatly before we abandon ship.”
“Nah, you just want to see the Swede a couple more times,” Dino said.
“Well,” Stone replied, “there is that.”
27
STONE AND DINO were enjoying a drink on their front porch when Stone’s cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“Stone, it’s Wally Millard.”
“Hey, Wally, how are you?”
“I’m okay, but I don’t think everybody else is.”
“What do you mean?”
“What’s this kid’s name you’re looking for?”
“Evan Keating.”
“That’s the one. I got a call from Manny White in Miami, and he was steamed, which isn’t unusual for Manny.”
“I guess not. What’s his problem?”
“Well, Manny doesn’t like to hear from people who want to have some dirty work done.”
“Okay. Who asked him to do what?”
“Somebody called him and hinted that he needed somebody hit.”
“I can see how that might steam Manny. Who was the caller?”
“He’s not positive, but he thinks it was the guy who hired him to fi nd Keating.”
“He thinks it was Warren Keating?” Stone didn’t like the sound of this.
“That’s right, he wanted Manny to find his son. I passed it on to him after Eggers called me.”
“Why does he think it was Warren Keating?”
“He had an upper-class New England accent; Manny doesn’t get many calls from people who talk like George Plimpton. That’s who Manny said he talks like.”
“When you referred Keating to Manny, did you make the call, or did he?”
“I did.”
“Then how can Manny recognize his voice?”
“It was the accent. Manny can’t think of anybody else who would call him who has an accent like that. And George Plimpton is dead, God rest his soul.”
“Okay, I get all of that.”
“Did you find the Keating kid?”
“Yeah, but I’ve lost him again. Why?”
“Well, Manny cut the guy short, but after he hung up, it occurred to him that what might have been going on was that old Keating wanted young Keating taken out.”
“Given the circumstances,” Stone said, “that’s not an outrageous assumption, even though Manny’s evidence for it is pretty slim.”
“Manny always had good instincts,” Wally said. “I wouldn’t dismiss this out of hand, if you want the kid to stay alive.”
“I wouldn’t like to see anybody take a hit,” Stone said, “so I’ll try to find the kid and let him know what’s going on.”
“That’s all anybody can do,” Wally said. “Just tell the kid to watch his ass.”
“I’ll do that, if I can find him, Wally. Thanks for letting me know.”
Stone hung up and turned to Dino. “The short version: Somebody who sounds like George Plimpton called Manny White and intimated that he wanted somebody popped. Manny hung up on him, but he inferred—and I know this is a leap— that Warren Keating wants Evan dead.”
Dino thought about this for a minute. “The second part of that makes perfect sense, if you consider that a guy who is getting eight hundred mil in a business deal and who is supposed to share it with his father and son might want both of them dead.”
“Yeah, but what about the first part? He didn’t give Manny his name before Manny hung up on him.”
“Manny’s kind of weird like that. I remember a time when we had a robbery to deal with, and before Manny looked at any of the evidence, he named the perp. We all thought he was crazy, but he turned out to be right, and we would have saved a lot of man-hours if we had just busted
the guy right away. So I think you should let Evan Keating know that something might be afoot.”
“I’d love to, Dino, but I don’t know where he is, and I don’t think we’re going to find him by puttering around the marinas in a Whaler.”
“Then we’ll have to find another way, won’t we?”
“Suggest one, please.”
“Didn’t Evan tell you he was going to buy a new cell phone?”
“Yes, but you can’t call information and get a cell phone number.”
“Maybe Bob Cantor can fi nd it.”
Stone thought about this. Bob Cantor was a techie whom Stone had used for years for all sorts of electronic, computer and surveillance and phone problems. “Dino,” he said, “that is a very good idea.”
Stone called Bob Cantor, got his voice mail and left a message.
“Dino, do you think Evan might really be in Miami? I mean, he did leave that as a forwarding address.”
“Who knows? I guess it’s possible.”
“I think I’m going to call Manny White.”
“This is going to be entertaining. Can I listen in?”
“Sure.” Stone called Manny White’s number and put the phone on speaker.
“Yeah?”
“Manny?”
“Yeah?”
“It’s Stone Barrington. Do you always answer the phone that way?”
“I do on my private line,” Manny said. “How’d you get this number?”
“You called my cell phone on this line. Did you get the hundred I sent you?”
“Yeah.”
“Would you like some more hundreds?”
“Maybe. How many and what for?”
“Five hundred to find Evan Keating again. I think he may be in Miami, maybe South Beach.”
“That’s going to run you at least a thousand,” Manny said. “I have to start from scratch.”
“Why? You’ve already done this once.”
“Yeah, but the agent I used is no longer available. I’ll have to start with a new one.”
“All right, Manny, start a new guy on the job, and call me when we get to a thousand, and I’ll decide whether I want to go further.”
“I’ll need five hundred up front,” Manny said.
“Manny, for old times’ sake, could you start right now? I’ll send the money today.”
“What old times’ sake? It’s not like you and me have got some kind of warm, fuzzy history.”
“Manny, we have the NYPD in common. That’s a basis to start on.”
“If you FedEx the money, I’ll have it first thing tomorrow.”
Stone sighed. “Give me the address.”
28
STONE AND DINO were with Tommy Sculley when Bob Cantor called back.
“Hey, Bob,” Stone said. “You okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you in New York?”
“No, I’m in Key West.”
“That’s almost as good as St. Thomas, which is where I am.”
“Not bad, Bob. Can you get me a cell phone number from there?”
“Maybe. Old number?”
“New number, maybe only a day or two old.”
“Do you know where the caller is based?”
“Key West, I should think.”
“What’s the name?”
“Evan Keating.” Stone spelled it for him.
“I’m going to need to do some work on the computer,” Bob said.
“I’ll call you back.”
“Today?”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“Okay, thanks, Bob.” Stone hung up.
“What else can we do?” he asked Dino.
“I think this is our best bet,” Dino replied. “Let’s wait to hear from Bob, before we start patrolling the streets, which seems like our last remaining option.”
Stone’s cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“It’s Manny. Did you send the money?”
“I haven’t had a chance yet, Manny, but I’ll get it to FedEx before the day is out, okay?”
“Terrific. When I get it, I’ll give you what I’ve got.”
“You’ve got something on Keating?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Come on, Manny, you’ll get the money.”
“This is business, Barrington. Why should I trust you?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I wouldn’t trust him, either. Tell you what: You go send the money, then give me the tracking number, and I’ll check it out. If it’s on the way, I’ll tell you what I’ve got.”
Stone sighed again. “All right, Manny.” He hung up. Tommy spoke up. “Is this the same Manny White from the Nineteenth?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“He was always a pain in the ass. Sit tight; I’ll be right back.”
Tommy got up from the table and disappeared through a door. A moment later he was back with a FedEx envelope and waybill. “Here you go; they’ll call it in from the offi ce.”
Stone put five hundreds in the envelope, addressed it and made a note of the tracking number, then Tommy took it to the offi ce. Stone called Manny White.
“Good day, Manny White Investigations,” Manny said.
“Isn’t this still the private line?” Stone asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Stone Barrington.”
“What do you want?”
“Manny, it’s what you want. The FedEx tracking number, remember?”
“Yeah, gimme it.”
Stone recited the number. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So what’s your information?”
“I haven’t had a chance to call FedEx and track it yet. I’ll call you back.”
“Manny, the package is in the office of the Key West Yacht Club, waiting for FedEx to pick it up.”
“So it’s not in the system yet?”
“I guess not, but it will be.”
“I can’t track ‘will be.’ ”
Tommy and Dino were laughing so hard they couldn’t eat.
“Look,” Tommy said, pointing out the front window. A FedEx truck was leaving the parking lot.
“Okay, Manny,” Stone said, “the truck just left; it’s in the system.”
“I’ll call you back.” Manny hung up.
“It would have been easier to go to Miami and look for the guy myself,” Stone said. His cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“Is this Barrington?”
“Yes, Manny.”
“Your package checked out.”
“Good, Manny, now what’s the information you have?”
“Here it is—after a thorough search, the name Evan Keating does not appear on any hotel register in South Beach.”
“That’s it?” Tommy and Dino were in new paroxysms of laughter.
“That’s it.”
“That’s what you call information?”
“It’s what I call very hard-won information,” Manny replied. “My agent had to go to every hotel to get it.”
“Okay, Manny,” Stone said, “cancel the rest of the search.”
“Whatever you say,” Manny said, and he hung up. Tommy spoke through his tears. “You gotta admit, it was information. Now you know where the guy is not.”
Stone’s cell phone went off. “Hello?”
“It’s Cantor.”
“Good. What’ve you got for me?”
“Zip, I’m afraid. Nobody by that name has gotten new cell phone service in Key West for a week.”
Stone thought about that. “Anybody named Gigi Jones on the list of new customers?”
“Lemme see.” Cantor was shuffling papers. “Nope, nobody by that name, either.”
“Okay, Bob, thanks. Send me your bill.”
“In Key West?”
“Nope, in New York.”
“See ya.” Cantor hung up.
“Stone,” Tommy said, “if Evan Keating lost his old cell phone and is getting a new one, why would he get a new number?”
Stone smote his forehead. “Right! He’d just cancel the old phone and transfer the number to the new phone!”
“Why didn’t you think of that?” Dino asked.
“I don’t know. I should have.”
“Your brain is Swede-addled,” Dino said.
“Is this the doctor?” Tommy asked.
“Yeah. Stone has been sacrificing himself on that altar every night.”
“Some sacrifice,” Tommy said.
Stone ignored them; he was looking for Evan Keating’s old cell number in the list of calls in his phone’s memory. He found it and pressed the send button.
“Hello?”
“Evan?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Stone Barrington.”
Long pause. “What do you want?”
“I need to see you. There have been developments at home that you need to know about.”
“Where are you?”
“At the Key West Yacht Club.”
“Funny, so am I,” Evan said. “I’m parked within sight of the bar, which I figure is where you’re calling from.”
“Don’t move,” Stone said. He got up and started walking toward the door.
29
STONE BURST OUT the door and saw a beautiful little 32-footer moored at the end of the outer dock. Evan Keating was standing in the cockpit, looking at him. Stone hurried over and stepped aboard. Evan pointed at a cockpit seat, and Stone sat down. “How long have you been here?”
“Just a couple of minutes. I came in for fuel, but they don’t have fuel here.”
“I guess you’ll have to go down to Key West Bight.”
“What’s up?”
“First of all, the managing partner of my law fi rm got your grandfather out of the nursing home where your father had imprisoned him. He’s at home and being taken care of by his old secretary.”
“Hey, that’s great,” Evan said, without much enthusiasm. “What else?”
“It appears that your father may be trying to hire somebody to kill you.”
This got Evan’s full attention. “Why do you think that?”
“Because someone sounding like him, New England accent and all, called a private investigator of my acquaintance and inquired about having a dirty job done. Earlier, your father had hired him to fi nd you.”
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