by Stuart Woods
“It’s Evan Keating. When do you expect to have the contract?”
“It came about ninety seconds ago.”
“Have you read the contract?”
“It’s addressed to you. If I have your permission to open the package and read it, I’ll be glad to do so.”
“No. Your message said something about lunch?”
“Do you know the Raw Bar?”
“Yes.”
“ Forty-fi ve minutes?”
“Fine.” Evan hung up.
“He wouldn’t let you open the package,” Dino said. “Serves you right.”
“No, it confirms my judgment,” Stone said.
STON E S AT I N the Raw Bar, gazing out over the marina and smelling the frying seafood. He glanced at the front entrance and saw Evan Keating and Gigi Jones arriving, and he waved them over.
Evan came over; Gigi went and sat at another table. “Good afternoon,” Evan said. “May I see the contract, please?”
A waitress approached.
“Shall we order first?” Stone asked.
“A pound of stone crab claws and a Heineken,” Evan said.
“Conch fritters and iced tea,” Stone said, and the waitress left.
“Now may I see the contract?”
“Not yet; I want to ask you some questions.”
“Questions?”
“How do I know you’re Evan Keating?” Stone said. “I would hate to deliver a confidential document to the wrong person. How about a picture I.D.?”
9 7
S t u a r t W o o d s
Evan took out a wallet and handed Stone a Florida driver’s license. The face matched the name. “Now may I see the contract?”
“I’m not finished with my questions.”
“What else could you possibly want to know?”
“How did you get the knife wound?”
Evan rarely seemed to register anything, but at the question he registered surprise. “How the hell did you know about that?”
“That’s not pertinent,” Stone replied. “How’d you get the knife wound?”
“From a knife.”
“Who was holding it?”
“A bad person.”
“You don’t really want to see the contract, do you?”
“A drug dealer. I was buying a little cocaine, and we disagreed over the quality and price.”
“And why do you know enough about cocaine to be able to judge quality and price?”
“Experience,” Evan said. “On widely separated occasions.”
“What happened after he knifed you?”
“Gigi rendered him unconscious, and we left.”
“Gigi is a handy girl to have around, isn’t she?”
“Sometimes. At other times she’s just a pain in the ass.”
“Or the neck,” Stone said, rubbing his own at the memory. “Did you pay for the cocaine?”
“Gigi stuffed the money in his mouth.”
“Are you likely to meet up with him again?”
“I certainly hope not. Gigi might kill him next time.”
“He might kill you and Gigi next time,” Stone said. “You should consider that before dealing with the criminal element again. Did the hospital report the knife wound to the police?”
“I told them the cut was from a gaffing hook while fi shing. How did you know I went to the hospital?”
9 8
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“It’s where I would go, if somebody knifed me.”
“Now may I see the contract?”
“Give me an account of your whereabouts and activities since you graduated from college.”
“You really are a very curious guy,” Evan said. “Why do you want to know?”
“Because I’m a very curious guy,” Stone replied.
“Maybe I should sic Gigi on you.”
“You may tell Gigi for me that if she ever again approaches me from any angle, I’ll break her pretty face.”
Evan burst out laughing. “I’d like to see you try that,” he said.
“How did you meet Gigi?”
“We hooked up in Miami.”
“In South Beach?”
“How did … never mind. Yes.”
“How much business have you done with South Beach Security?”
“I had an account there when I lived in South Beach,” Evan said warily.
“Did you do any illegal business with them?”
Their food arrived, and Evan used it as an excuse not to answer the question. They ate in silence for a while.
“Do you really think your father poisoned your Uncle Harry?”
Stone asked fi nally.
Evan regarded him evenly over a crab claw. “I think it’s well within the realm of possibility. If I ever see that contract, I can give you a better answer.”
Stone handed him the FedEx envelope.
Evan ate the crab claw, wiped his hands carefully on a paper towel from the roll on the table and ripped open the package. He seemed to be speed-reading, flipping the pages rapidly. Then he stopped halfway through and read more slowly. 9 9
S t u a r t W o o d s
“Well?” Stone said.
Evan stuffed the contract back into the envelope, ate another crab claw and sipped his beer. “Yes,” he said. “I think my father poisoned Uncle Harry, and you can pass the word to him: no deal.” He tossed a fifty-dollar bill on the table, then got up and left without another word, taking the contract with him.
10 0
23
ST O N E A RRIV E D B A C K at the Marquesa to find Dino still by the pool, eating an enormous club sandwich, accompanied by a fruity-looking drink with an umbrella in it.
“So did he read the contract?” Dino asked.
“Yes.”
“How much is the business being sold for?”
“I don’t know; he didn’t tell me, and he took the contract with him.” Stone’s cell phone vibrated, and he glanced at it. “Eggers; he’s going to love this.”
Stone put the phone on speaker. “Yes, Bill?”
“Did you get the contract?”
“Yes.”
“Did you show it to Evan Keating?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“He said to tell Warren, no deal.”
“Shit!” Eggers said.
“You were hoping he would take it?”
“It sure would have made my life a lot simpler,” Eggers said. “This 101
S t u a r t W o o d s
was supposed to go like clockwork; you were supposed to fi nd Evan, get his signature and everybody would have been happy.”
“Everybody except Grandpa Eli, who’s locked in the nursing home, Uncle Harry, who’s dead, and Evan, who thinks, not without cause, that he’s being cheated out of his share of the business.”
“It’s a snakepit, that’s what it is,” Eggers moaned.
“Bill, what’s the sales price for the business?”
“Didn’t you read the contract?”
“No, it was addressed to Evan, care of me, and when I gave it to him he didn’t read it aloud.”
“What did he say?”
“He said, ‘No deal,’ and when I asked him if he thought his father poisoned Uncle Harry, he replied in the affi rmative.”
“And you think I should go to the police?”
“From what Evan said the other day, the police are already looking into Harry’s death. What could you tell them?”
“That I have reason to believe that Harry Keating was poisoned by his brother.”
“And what reason do you have to believe that?”
“Warren Keating is a chemist; his brother died under mysterious circumstances; Warren stood to gain from his death.”
“Don’t you think the police have already figured out that much?
In addition, they’ve probably searched Warren’s house, garage and toolshed for ant poison, or whatever the hell is poisonous these days, a
nd they surely took fluid and tissue samples from the corpse.”
“Then why haven’t they arrested Warren?”
“Maybe because toxicology screens seem to take one hell of a long time to come back, especially in small towns like— Where is it Warren and Harry live?”
“Torrington, Connecticut.”
“Like Torrington, Connecticut.”
“Yeah,” Eggers said, “and did I mention that Harry’s body was cremated?”
10 2
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“Before or after they took samples?”
“I’m not sure. Can a crime lab get toxicology reports from ashes, or whatever’s left after a cremation?”
“Maybe, in the case of heavy metals, like arsenic, but if Warren is a chemist I should think he’d use something more sophisticated than arsenic.”
“Like ant poison?”
“Some of those insecticides have cyanide in them—at least I think that’s the case; I’m not an expert on poisoning. Somebody once told me that there are two common household fluids that, when mixed, form a poison that can’t be analyzed.”
“I didn’t know there was anything that can’t be analyzed.”
“I’m not a chemist, Bill. Did Harry have any family other than Warren, Eli and Evan?”
“No, he was a lifelong bachelor, didn’t even have a girlfriend,”
Eggers said.
“Then has it occurred to you that Evan’s share of the proceeds of the sale would be even larger with Harry’s death?”
“I suppose so. Warren’s, too.”
“And Bill, has it occurred to you that the remaining split would be larger still if Eli kicked off?”
“You mean …”
“That maybe dutiful son Warren, when visiting his father, might bring along a treat like a box of chocolates or a bottle of Scotch?”
“Oh, my God.” Eggers groaned.
“Maybe you ought to have a chat with the Torrington police after all,” Stone said.
“I’m Warren’s lawyer, Stone, and so are you.”
“You have a point.”
“And don’t go getting Dino to call the cops, either; that would be like telling them yourself.”
“Yeah. What are you going to do?”
10 3
S t u a r t W o o d s
“Think about it,” Eggers said. “And I have to call Warren and tell him what Evan said.”
“You’d better tell him to do the right thing, Bill.”
But Eggers had already hung up.
Stone looked at Dino, whose eyes had narrowed and who appeared to be in deep thought.
“What?” Stone said.
“I’m just thinking about your problem,” Dino said. “We could probably get somebody else to approach the Torrington cops in a roundabout way.”
“Somebody like Wally Millard?” Stone asked.
“Maybe, but he’s connected with Eggers, who hired him to fi nd Evan Keating. That might be too close.”
“Manny White?”
“Still too close.”
“If I’m going to do something about this, I’d better do it fast,”
Stone said.
“I know a detective on the Connecticut State Police,” Dino said.
“Yeah, but you’re too close to this to talk to him.”
“Maybe, but I know somebody who has every right to express his concern to Connecticut law enforcement.”
“Who’s that?”
“Evan Keating.”
Stone smote his forehead. “Why didn’t I tell him at lunch to do that?”
“Because you’re so fucking dumb,” Dino said. Stone dialed the Gardens. Evan’s room didn’t answer, so he left a message.
“And we still don’t know what the contract price is,” Dino pointed out.
“It’s not as though we really need to know that, is it?” Stone said.
“Still,” Dino replied, “a big number is motive.”
“It’s going to be a very big motive,” Stone said. 104
24
STON E A N D D IN O left their hotel to play tennis, and Stone kept his cell phone in his pocket, but it never rang.
“I’m worried,” Stone said as they were taking a break between sets.
“I suppose you’ve got visions of Warren visiting Eli and stuffi ng something down his throat?”
“Something like that.” Stone called the Gardens again and still got Evan’s voice mail.
“You’re doing all you can do,” Dino said.
“I keep thinking there’s something else.”
“You could call the nursing home, pretend to be the cops and tell them not to let Warren anywhere near Eli.”
“That’s a wonderful idea, Dino. What’s the name of the nursing home?”
“I don’t know.”
“Neither do I.”
“Oh. Let’s play another set.”
They played another set.
“Come on,” Stone said, “let’s go to the Gardens. Maybe he’s just not answering his phone.”
10 5
S t u a r t W o o d s
“Okay,” Dino said, “but I was winning.”
“The hell you were.”
They drove to the Gardens and went inside.
“May I help you?” a young woman at the desk asked.
“Yes, I’d like to see Evan Keating,” Stone said.
“I’m afraid Mr. Keating just checked out,” she replied. “Not more than fifteen minutes ago.”
“Did he leave a forwarding address?” Stone asked. She checked her records. “Miami, Florida,” she said.
“What hotel?”
“No hotel, just Miami.”
“Do you have a cell phone number for him?”
She checked again. “Yes, we do.” She gave him the number. Stone was about to dial it when Dino spoke up.
“That’s his old cell number, the one that went overboard.”
“Shit,” Stone said in disgust.
“What do you want to do now?”
“You want me to call my guy on the Connecticut State Police?”
Stone thought about that. Somebody’s life was at stake. “Yes,” he said, “call him.”
“What do you want me to tell him?”
“You know what to tell him, but tell him not to tell anybody the call came from you.”
They got into their car, and Dino went through his address book and found the number. “You’re sure you want me to call?”
“Yes, dammit!”
Dino dialed the number and put the phone on speaker.
“Robbery Homicide, Lieutenant Hotchkiss.”
“Dan, it’s Dino Bacchetti, NYPD, remember me?”
“How could I forget?” Dan replied. “I bet you want me to solve another homicide for you.”
“I don’t need your help in solving homicides, Dan, but …”
“I know a perp who would still be a free man if …”
10 6
L o i t e r i n g w i t h I n t e n t
“I need help in preventing a homicide.”
“Anybody I know?”
“I doubt it; it’s an old man from Torrington named Eli Keating.”
“Elijah Keating’s Sons? That Keating?”
“That Keating.”
“Harry Keating’s father?”
“The late Harry Keating’s father.”
“Harry Keating is dead?”
“You hadn’t heard? I hear the Torrington police are looking into the cause of death.”
“What do they suspect?”
“I don’t know how smart the Torrington cops are, so I can’t tell you. Suffice it to say that Harry’s brother, Warren, and his son inherit the business, along with old Eli, and Warren is a chemist.”
“You mean …”
“I don’t mean anything; you’re going to have to draw your own conclusions, and you can’t tell anybody I gave you any hints.”
“Okay, hang on while I dra
w some conclusions: You think Warren poisoned his brother?”
“I don’t think anything; you’re drawing your own conclusions.”
“And that he might be going to poison his father as well, to get a bigger chunk of the business?”
“That’s an interesting conclusion, Dan; why don’t you follow up on it?”
“I need more.”
“Old Eli is in a nursing home, ostensibly with Alzheimer’s, though somebody who talked with him at Harry’s funeral says he seemed just fi ne.”
“So you think that Warren locked the old man up to get him out of the way?”
“I don’t think anything, but it’s interesting that you have drawn that conclusion.”
“I still need more.”
10 7
S t u a r t W o o d s
“Then why don’t you conclude that you ought to call the Torrington cops and see what they know about all this? Maybe they would like to get the credit for solving one homicide and preventing another.”
“Dino, you think there’s really something to all this?”
“Dan, when you answered the phone, you spoke the words, ‘Robbery and …’ What was that other word? Try and remember it.”
“Okay, okay, I’ll make some calls.”
“I think you should conclude that you’d better hurry; it might be visiting day at the nursing home.”
“Okay, Dino.”
“I don’t know who that is, but call me at this number and let me know what you find out.” Dino gave him his cell phone number.
“You’re in New York?”
“I’m in Key West.”
“What are you doing in Key West?”
“Loitering.”
“That’s what I would do if I were in Key West,” Dan said.
“It’s one of the things I do best,” Dino said, then he hung up. He turned back to Stone. “Let’s see if that gets him to move his ass.”
“It ought to,” Stone said.
“Now, where the hell do you think Evan has gone?”
“I don’t know, back to his boat?”
“And what’s the name of that boat?”
“I don’t know.”
“You didn’t ask him? You had lunch with the guy, and you didn’t ask him?” Dino slapped Stone on the back of the head.
“I needed that,” Stone said.
10 8
25
BIL L E GG E R S D R O V E across the Harlem River Bridge and headed north, toward Connecticut. He was going there against his better judgment, but his conscience had been bothering him. Stone had been making a lot of sense, and as far as he could tell, he was the only person who could do anything about this. Harry Keating was dead and Evan Keating had dropped out of sight again, so who else was left?
