Loitering With Intent

by Stuart Woods

  “Are you guys always this lucky?” Tommy asked. “’Cause I’m not. You stroll into an airport hangar a few hours after a shooting and find a guy who landed with a rifle case and a handgun case in his backseat? That never happens to me.”

  “Then you’re not working hard enough, Tommy,” Dino said. “I find that the harder I work, the luckier I get.”

  “Just how much work have you done this morning, Dino? You and Stone had a chat over breakfast and decided to amble out here?

  That kind of work?”

  “There’s a certain amount of instinct involved, too,” Dino said, blandly.

  Tommy burst out laughing. “It’s a pity vaudeville is dead,” he said. “You’d make a great duo on the stage.”

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  “I didn’t say anything,” Stone pointed out.

  “You didn’t need to; I was supplying all the straight lines.”

  DePoo’s desk phone rang. “Yes? Did he mention what hotel he’s in? Okay, thanks.” He hung up. “This Ted Larson, or whoever he is, just called and said he’d be staying a day or two longer.”

  “Please ask her to describe the man,” Stone said. DePoo called back to the desk, asked and hung up. “White guy, middle-aged, medium height and weight, wearing a yellow baseball cap.”

  “Well,” Tommy said, “I choose not to wait for him to show up or to institute a manhunt for a guy answering that description. Paul, will you call me the minute he shows up?”

  “Sure,” DePoo answered. He wrote down Tommy’s cell number.

  “Take mine, too,” Stone said, handing him a card. The three men walked outside to the parking lot.

  “You two sticking around?” Tommy asked.

  “Yeah, for a few days,” Stone said.

  “You really think you’re on to something here?”

  “Well, I guess we’ll have to wait until Evan Keating gets shot at again before we’ll know for sure. I hope he doesn’t get dead in the process.”

  “I’d put a police guard on him, if he didn’t have the lovely Gigi to watch his back,” Tommy said.

  “At least she knows how to shoot back,” Dino said.

  “Tommy,” Stone said, “do you know if Evan is being discharged this morning?”

  “Looks like he’s going to be there another day,” Tommy replied.

  “Apparently, he’s running a fever, and they’ve got him on intravenous antibiotics. Best guess now is tomorrow. My uniformed guy is still on him, though, so he’ll be okay.”

  “See you later, then,” Stone said, and they went to their respective cars. 1 4 8

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  “So you want to go looking for Ted Larson or Frank Harmon or whatever his name is?”

  “What’s the point? If I were a hit man, I’d fly in here and give a false name, then register in a hotel under another false name and give anybody I met another false name.”

  “I’m glad he doesn’t know who we are,” Dino said. 1 4 9

  34

  STON E A N D D IN O went back to the Marquesa, and Stone got into a shower, thinking about the events of that morning. When he came out onto the porch, Dino was at the pool with a vividly colored drink in his hand, chatting with two young women. Stone was about to join him when his cell phone buzzed.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s Eggers.”

  “Good morning. How’s it going up there? And by ‘up there’ I mean Connecticut.”

  “Well, let’s see: Eli has filed a lawsuit against Warren Keating, asking that he be barred from any participation in the sale of the company and that the disposition of the proceeds be put in Eli’s hands. That ought to keep Warren busy for a while, I guess. What’s going on down there?”

  “Warren has been busier than you think. The day before yesterday he apparently called a Miami P.I. of my acquaintance and inquired about having some slightly illegal work done.”

  “What kind of slightly illegal work?”

  “My acquaintance hung up on him before he could spit it all out, 15 0

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  but the trend of the conversation seemed toward the hiring of somebody to kill his son.”

  “C’mon, Warren’s not that stupid.”

  “No? He’s not only stupid but fast-acting. Last night Evan Keating was shot while sitting in his boat, anchored off Key West.”

  Eggers made an odd noise.

  “That was pretty much my reaction, too.”

  “Is he dead?”

  “No, just shot through a shoulder. He’s in the local hospital under police guard, in case the hit guy tries again. He should be out tomorrow, if his fever goes away.”

  “I’m having a pretty hard time getting my mind around this,”

  Eggers said. “I can’t believe Warren is that evil.”

  “You can’t? The man is under suspicion for having murdered his brother by poisoning, he locked up his healthy father in a nursing home on phony grounds, and he’s tried to cheat both his father and his son out of their rightful share of the proceeds of the business sale. Isn’t that evil enough for you?”

  “Okay, I’ll admit it. I misjudged the man. Even when I was prying Eli out of that home, I never thought Warren had poisoned his brother, but now I’ve reconsidered. I think I should go to the police.”

  “I understand the Connecticut State Police are already investigating him, and I’m sure they’ll get around to you eventually. Just sit tight.”

  “Are you coming back to New York soon?”

  “No, not for a few days. Evan has hired me.”

  “For what?”

  “He says for a negotiation, but I have no idea what that means. I intend to ask him again as soon as he’s out of the hospital.”

  “Well, I guess we’re enough legally clear of Warren for that to be all right.”

  “I’m glad to hear it,” Stone said.

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  “Can you find out how the investigation of Warren is going?”

  Eggers asked. “You seem to have an in.”

  “I’ll ask questions of somebody who can ask questions, that’s all I can do.”

  “Keep me posted,” Eggers said, then he hung up. Stone strolled over to where Dino was sitting. “Sorry to interrupt,” he said, “but can you call your guy in Connecticut and fi nd out what’s happening?”

  “I guess,” Dino said. “Excuse me a minute, ladies.”

  The girls tittered and wandered away.

  Dino dialed the number and put his phone on speaker.

  “Robbery Homicide.”

  “Lieutenant Dan Hotchkiss, please.”

  “This is Lieutenant Hotchkiss.”

  “Hey, Dan, it’s Dino.”

  “I could have predicted that.”

  “What did you find out about the Warren Keating thing?”

  “I found out that it’s hard to analyze the ashes of a corpse for traces of poison.”

  “You ever heard that tale about there being three common household substances—or maybe it’s two—that, when combined, make an unanalyzable poison?”

  “Dino, how am I going to look for an unanalyzable poison?”

  “You can get a search warrant for Keating’s house and look for the ingredients.”

  “What are the ingredients?”

  “I told you, two or three common household substances.”

  “You’re a big fucking help, Dino.”

  “Well, the people who know about these things don’t like to mention the names of the substances, for fear of setting off a nationwide epidemic of dead husbands, but Warren Keating has a chemistry degree, and you know what college kids are like: Something of that sort would be talked about in lab classes.”

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  “So what do I do, ask a college chemistry major?”

  “Why don’t you ask the FBI lab? If anybody know
s about this poison, they would.”

  “Okay, say I call the FBI lab, or get somebody at our lab to do it, and they tell me that the three secret ingredients are toilet cleaner, bug spray and a decent Scotch. Half the people in the state have those things in their houses, so they’d be just as good for the crime as Warren Keating, wouldn’t they?”

  “Dan …”

  “You think a judge, a sober one anyway, would give me a warrant to search for those three items? I’ll bet the judge has them at home, too.”

  “I take your point, Dan. Now, can you tell me what, if anything, is being done in this investigation?”

  “Right now, it’s in the hands of the lab, and they won’t give me an ETA for their results.”

  “They’ve probably laid it off on the FBI lab, anyway,” Dino said.

  “I wouldn’t be surprised. Anything else, before I go back to fi ghting crime?”

  “There has been a development. Warren Keating may have hired a hit man to kill his son.”

  “Have you got anything more than three secret ingredients to back that up?”

  “Well, his son is in a Key West hospital with a bullet wound to the shoulder.”

  “That’s certainly an interesting development, Dino, but how do I tie that to Warren?”

  “A guy with a New England accent, like Warren’s, called a Miami P.I. I know and made inquiries.”

  “Did the P.I. recommend anybody?”

  “No, he hung up when he saw which way the conversation was leading.”

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  “I’m really happy that the crime is out of my jurisdiction, Dino. Let me know if something happens that I can actually arrest Warren Keating for.” Hotchkiss hung up.

  Dino turned to Stone. “For this kind of abuse, I lose the company of two attractive women?”

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  STON E H A D B E C O M E accustomed to being awakened in the mornings by his cell phone while in Dr. Annika Swenson’s bed, and this morning was no exception.

  “Hello?”

  “Stone? It’s your client, Evan Keating.”

  Stone looked at the clock. Seven A.M. “Good morning, Evan. You’re up early.”

  “Aren’t you?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “I’m being discharged from this place at ten o’clock this morning. Can you pick me up here and take me to police headquarters?”

  “I suppose so, but why do you want to go to police headquarters?”

  “I’ll explain that when we’re on the way. Will you make an appointment with Lieutenant Sculley and ask him to have a representative of the district attorney there, too?”

  “Why do we need the DA there?”

  “Again, I’ll explain on the way. Just tell him I’m going to solve Charley Boggs’s murder for him. And when you come here, there’s 15 5

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  a second entrance, two doors beyond the emergency room. Please meet me there at ten sharp.”

  “All right, Evan. See you then.” Stone hung up and, with nothing to do until nine, when Tommy Sculley would be at work, he turned his attention to Annika, who was lying on her stomach, pretending to sleep. He ran a finger lightly down the crack of her ass.

  “Mmmmm,” she said.

  “You’re not asleep, are you?”

  “Nooooo.”

  He deployed the fi nger again.

  “More,” she said.

  He could deny her nothing.

  SH O R TLY AFTE R NINE , after finishing breakfast, he phoned Tommy Sculley.

  “Lieutenant Sculley.”

  “Tommy, it’s Stone Barrington.”

  “Good morning, Stone, and what request do you have for me today?”

  “Only a request for a meeting with you and somebody from the DA’s offi ce.”

  “For what purpose?”

  “My client says he can solve the Charley Boggs murder for you.”

  “Which client?”

  “I have only one in Key West.”

  “Well, that’s very decent of him. What evidence does he have?”

  “He has not yet informed me. I’m picking him up at the hospital at ten o’clock, so we can be there shortly after that.”

  “Hang on a second.” Tommy put him on hold and came back two minutes later. “Okay, the assistant county attorney, Jim Rawlings, will be here. In my offi ce.”

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  “Thank you, Tommy. See you then.” Stone hung up, thinking this must have something to do with some drug deal that Evan and Charley had collaborated on.

  STON E PU L L ED U P to the specified hospital door at ten o’clock, and Evan stepped out, his left arm in a sling, looked around furtively and got into Stone’s car.

  Stone drove away. “Evan, let me give you a tip: When you’re leaving a building while worried about being shot at, don’t pause and look around; just dive into the car.”

  “Thanks, that’s a good tip,” Evan said.

  “How are you feeling?”

  “A little sore, but the drugs are good.”

  “Temperature gone?”

  “Yes, my head is clear.”

  “Good. We have a meeting with Tommy Sculley and Jim Rawlings, the assistant county attorney. Now perhaps you can tell me why you want the meeting?”

  “I’m going to solve Charley Boggs’s homicide for them.”

  “Yes, you mentioned that. How do you plan to do it?”

  “You’ll find out at the same moment they do, Stone. What I want you to do is to negotiate an immunity agreement for Gigi and me with the county attorney before I tell them.”

  “What do you wish to be immune from?”

  “Prosecution for any crime or knowledge of a crime committed in the state of Florida.”

  “That’s kind of broad, isn’t it? Why don’t we narrow it down to the specifi c circumstances?”

  “I like the idea of broad,” Evan said. “And remember, it has to include Gigi, too.”

  “Why Gigi?”

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  “Stone …”

  “I know, I know. I’ll find out when you tell them.”

  “Yes. I just want a clear and enforceable understanding with the prosecutor, before I tell them what I have to tell them.”

  “And speaking of the lovely Gigi, where is she?”

  “Grocery shopping for the boat. I don’t want her included in this meeting.”

  “Just in the immunity agreement?”

  “Exactly.”

  “Evan, tell me why you think they will agree to give you immunity from all crimes? After all, you could have robbed a few banks or something.”

  “I haven’t robbed any banks. They’ll give me the agreement because it’s the only way they can solve Charley’s homicide.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Trust me, Stone. All will be revealed after we have the immunity agreement.”

  Stone sighed and continued to drive. They reached police headquarters and parked the car and Stone hurriedly walked Evan inside.

  “Don’t worry about my being shot,” Evan said. “That problem is going to go away after this meeting.”

  Stone stopped and faced Evan. “Listen to me. If I’m going to effectively represent you in this meeting, I’m going to have to know in advance of it what you’re going to say.”

  “You don’t need to know that, Stone,” Evan replied. “All you need is the immunity agreement.”

  Stone threw up his hands and got on the elevator. “I warn you, you could get into trouble by not confiding in your lawyer.”

  “No,” Evan replied, “I won’t.”

  Stone checked in with the receptionist, and he and Evan were directed to a small, glassed-in conference room across the hall from 15 8

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  Tommy’s office. The two men stood up to greet them, Tom
my made the introductions, and they all sat down.

  “Now,” Tommy said, “what’s this about solving the Boggs killing?”

  Stone held up a hand. “First, Tommy, Jim, we’re going to need immunity for Evan and his girlfriend, Gigi Jones.”

  “Immunity from what?”

  “From any possible criminal involvement in any crime.”

  “Hang on,” Rawlings said. “From any involvement in any crime?”

  “That’s what my client needs to feel comfortable discussing the homicide with you.”

  “I don’t know about that,” Rawlings said. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”

  “Of course,” Stone replied. He and Evan walked out of the offi ce and took chairs in the hall. They could see Tommy and Rawlings arguing. Arms were being waved. Finally, they were told to come back into the conference room.

  “All right,” Rawlings said, “I’ll offer immunity from prosecution for any crime associated with the death of Charley Boggs. That’s the best I can do.”

  “All right,” Evan said.

  “We’re going to need that in writing,” Stone said. Evan interrupted. “That won’t be necessary, Stone. I trust Mr. Rawlings and Lieutenant Sculley.”

  “Evan …”

  “I’m ready to speak on this subject,” Evan said. Stone shrugged. “All right, but remember, Mr. Rawlings, I’m holding you to this agreement, and Tommy is a witness.”

  “Yeah, I’m a witness,” Tommy said. “Now spit it out, Mr. Keating.”

  And Evan spat it out.

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  EVA N KEA T I N G R E G A R D ED the two men across the table calmly. “Charley Boggs is not dead,” he said. Rawlings looked at Stone. “For this we came? The guy is still alive?”

  “Wait a minute,” Tommy Sculley said, “I have the feeling there’s more. Go on, Evan.”

  “I’m Charley Boggs,” Evan said.

  Tommy screwed up his face. “You’re Charley Boggs?”

  “Yes.”

  “Then who was the guy we found floating in Garrison Bight?”

  “That was Evan Keating.”

  Stone decided to keep his mouth shut, since he was as baffl ed as everybody else.

  “Let’s see some I.D.,” Tommy said.

  “My I.D. was in Evan’s pocket,” the new Charley Boggs said. “Do you still have it?”

  “No,” Tommy said, “it was sent to his parents.”

  “Then I’m afraid I can’t help you with I.D.; I only have Evan’s.”