I'll mention that to him, if I see him again.
What do you mean, if you see him again?
Well, I don't have any further plans to contact him. He may be contacting me, because a friend of his here got himself murdered, and the local cops want to have a chat with Evan. I don't think he had anything to do with it.
God, what a nest of snakes this is turning into.
Bill, why don't you make a few phone calls and check into Warren Keating's background. It may be that if he's trying to screw his son on this deal, you'll want to resign the account.
I'm not in the habit of resigning accounts,
Eggers said.
If Evan should decide to sue his father over this, the law fi rm could get dragged into it as a defendant. And frankly, I don't think Evan is going to be bought off easily. Maybe you'd better broach the subject with Warren and get him to divide the sales proceeds equally.
This is all very distasteful,
Eggers said.
You want me to talk to Warren? If he goes nuts, you can always blame it all on me.
I'll talk to the man,
Eggers said.
And you'll get back to me?
Give me a day or two.
You want me to hang here until then?
Yes. I want somebody near Evan Keating, if we need to negotiate with him. You won't mind working on your tan for a little longer, will you?
I'll tough it out,
Stone said, then hung up.
I'll tough it out, too,
Dino said.
Chapter 18
THE Y FINIS HE D B R E A K F AS T , and Stone called Tommy Sculley. Hey, Tommy.
Hey, Stone.
What happened with Evan Keating?
We brought him in for a chat. He said he didn't know Charley Boggs was dead until you told him. He seemed upset about it.
Yeah, he said he and Charley had known each other since they were in prep school.
It's hard to think of Charley in prep school, but we're checking with the school now to confirm all this.
What's your take on Keating's possible involvement?
I'm inclined to think he's not involved, but I've been burned before, so I'm not going to form an opinion until I've checked everything out.
Did he tell you about Charley using his boat?
I didn't ask him about his boat.
Evan denies having spent a night on his boat out at the reef, and he says he lost his cell phone the day he bought the boat. For what it's worth, Charley helped him move the boat the day he bought it , so he could have filched Evan's cell phone and taken the boat out to the reef without Evan's knowledge.
Yeah, I guess. That would support the contention that Evan wasn't involved in the drug trade with Charley.
Something else makes me think Evan is clean of all this,
Stone said.
What's that?
This is between you and me, Tommy; it involves client confi dentiality.
Okay, it goes no further.
Last night I offered Even Keating twenty-one million for his share of the family business, and he turned me down.
He turned down twenty-one mil? Holy shit! Why?
Because he thinks his father owes him a lot more and is trying to cheat him. Doesn't sound like he'd be a candidate for a quick buck dealing drugs, does it? I mean, he's already living on one trust fund that seems to be supporting him in comfort.
You got a point,
Tommy said.
One other thing, and this doesn't sound so good: when Evan bought Chuck Chandler's boat, he paid for it with a hundred thirty thousand in hundred-dollar bills.
Why?
I don't know. Why don't you ask him?
I mean, a guy who's got that kind of money would run it through a bank, wouldn't he?
Could be some sort of tax dodge.
Yeah, that could make sense.
Did you release him?
Yeah, we talked for about two hours, then I cut him loose.
Did you get an address?
Yeah, he's staying at the Gardens, which is a block or two from the Marquesa. It's just as nice, but more expensive.
Be interesting to know if he's paying cash,
Stone said.
I'll fi nd out.
Will you let me hear from you about that and the check with the prep school?
Sure. See you later.
Stone hung up. Evan is staying at the Gardens, just up the street from here.
I saw the sign,
Dino said.
Oh, it was Evan's girlfriend, Gigi Jones, who slugged me outside the restaurant. He says she's sometimes overprotective.
Well, at least that resulted in your meeting the Swede. Was the blow to the neck worth the roll in the hay?
I think it's going to take me longer to recover from the roll in the hay,
Stone said. I'm supposed to call her about dinner tonight, but I'm not sure I'm up to it.
Take a nap; you'll be fi ne.
Stone's cell phone vibrated. Hello?
Hi, it's Evan Keating.
Good morning.
I didn't call you last night, because I got the feeling I didn't need a lawyer.
Evan, let me explain something to you: cops do everything they can to make you feel like you don't need a lawyer, then they can nail you for something you said. If they call you in again, take along a lawyer.
Well, okay, but I didn't kill Charley, and I don't think I'm a suspect.
You'll be a suspect until they can hang it on somebody else, or until they can prove to themselves that you didn't do it.
How did my father react to my turning his offer down?
I haven't spoken to him, just to my law firm's managing partner. He'll break the news to your father.
Expect an explosion,
Evan said. Old Dad has always exploded easily.
Do you think he'll want to renegotiate?
He won't have a choice; he can't sell the business without my agreement, and it's my guess that he's already figured out that he's not equipped to run the place.
Is there anyone in your family who is qualifi ed?
No, so selling is the right thing to do. Do you know what he was offered for it?
No, and if I knew I couldn't tell you. There's nothing stopping you from demanding to see the contract, though.
Good point. Tell your office that I want to see the contract, and that I won't discuss it further until I see it.
I'll do that. Where can I reach you?
I'm at the Gardens.
How about a cell phone number?
I've got to buy a new one; I'll call you when I get it. In the meantime, you can leave a message at the Gardens.
Okay, Evan, I'll request the contract.
Bye.
Keating hung up.
Stone redialed Bill Eggers.
Eggers.
Evan Keating just called me. He wants to see the sales contract for the business.
Warren doesn't have to show it to him,
Eggers said.
He does if he wants Evan's assent to sell. He says he'll have nothing else to say until he sees the contract.
You haven't been giving him legal advice, have you, Stone?
Me? I'm not his lawyer.
Exactly, so be careful what you say to him.
I won't be speaking to him again, unless he sees the contract.
I'll talk to Warren, and if he's agreeable, I'll FedEx it to you.
Stone gave him the Marquesa address and hung up.
Now negotiations get interesting,
he said to Dino.
Take your time,
Dino said.
Chapter 19
STON E T U R N ED TO Dino. How about some tennis?
Okay,
Dino replied, but is this tennis business or business business?
A little of both,
Stone said.
They changed clothes and drove to the Olde Island Tennis Club. Chuck Chandler was working with a student, a very pretty girl in a tiny tennis dress. He stood behind her, holding her arm as she swung.
I like the teaching position,
Dino said.
Stone went into the pro shop, found the reservation book and led Dino to a vacant court. They hit balls for a few minutes, then Chuck finished with his student and joined them.
You need more backswing in your serve,
he said to Stone. You could pick up another ten miles an hour of ball speed.
I'll work on that,
Stone said.
And Dino, you need to turn your body more when you hit the ball; you're using too much arm and not enough full body.
Okay,
Dino replied.
You guys want to play a three-handed set?
Sure,
Stone said. He and Dino played Chuck, and Chuck beat them six-four. They sat down for a break.
Chuck,
Stone said, when Evan Keating paid you the hundred and thirty grand in cash for your boat, what did it look like? New bills or old?
A mix, I guess. It was all neatly wrapped, some of it with rubber bands, some with bank wrappers.
What was the bank name on the wrappers?
I don't really remember, except that it was in Miami. Something Security.
Think hard.
South Beach Security, that's it.
Never heard of it,
Stone said.
I've never heard of half the banks in Florida,
Chuck said. I'd never heard of any of the banks in Key West until I moved here.
May I ask, what did you do with all that cash?
Well,
Chuck said, I had a yard bill at Peninsula Marina for around forty thousand, mostly materials and shed rental; I paid off about twenty thousand in personal debts, I bought a T-bill for fi fty thousand, and I put the rest in my safe. Sometimes you can do better deals for stuff if you've got cash.
Yes, you can,
Stone said. Did you fill out the federal forms for big cash deposits at your bank?
Yeah, and at my brokerage house, too. I thought I might expect a visit from the feds, but my banker told me the feds are inundated with those forms, and they never get around to checking most of them.
Don't forget to pay your taxes on the sale of the boat,
Stone said.
I actually had a small loss; my basis was more than Keating paid. Did you ever fi nd him?
Yep.
Good. You seemed a little stressed about it the last time we talked.
They played another set, then Stone and Dino went back to the Marquesa and showered. Stone called Tommy Sculley.
Tommy, do you know a bank in Miami called South Beach Security?
That has a familiar ring,
Tommy said, but I can't place it. I've heard somebody talking about it, though. It'll come to me. Why do you ask?
Some of the hundred and thirty grand Evan Keating paid Chuck Chandler for his boat had South Beach Security bands wrapped around it. The rest had rubber bands.
Let me look into it. By the way, I talked to the headmaster's offi ce at the Groton School, and Evan and Charley Boggs were in the same class there for three years. They were described as inseparable. The office gave me a next-of-kin address for Charley, too. His parents are still alive, and I had to tell them their son was dead.
That's never fun.
His old man said he was only mildly surprised; the only news he had had of him in years was that he was still drawing on his trust fund. He didn't want the body; he said to have it cremated and disposed of and to send him the bill. He also said that Charley's mother has thought he was dead for a long time, so he's not going to tell her.
I wonder if trust funds make father-son relationships worse?
Stone asked.
I guess they make the kids more independent. What is it they call a trust fund?
Fuck-you money?
That's it. Independence means they don't have to be nice to the folks anymore.
Kind of sad, isn't it?
Stone asked.
I still talk to my old man a couple of times a week,
Tommy said.
He's in a retirement home in Boca. He comes down here for Christmas, or we go up there. But then I don't have a trust fund.
My folks are gone,
Stone said, and I miss them.
I'll bet you didn't have a trust fund, either.
Nope.
Hang on a minute,
Tommy said. Hey, Jim, have you ever heard of a bank in Miami called South Beach Security? Pick up the extension, line three.
Hello?
another voice said.
Stone, this is Jim Pierce; he's the worst kind of fed: an FBI man.
Hi, Jim.
Hi, Stone. How'd you get tangled up with this reprobate?
Beats me.
Jim, tell Stone about South Beach Security.
Tell you what I know, Stone. The bank is less than five years old; majority stockholder is one Max Melfi. I'm told he's from old sugarcane money in the Glades, but I can't prove it. I can't prove the bank is dirty, either, but the name keeps coming up in investigations. You might say it's red-flagged with us. Why do you want to know about South Beach Security?
Friend of mine sold his boat for a bunch of money, and the deal was done in cash, some of it with wrappers from South Beach Security.
Sounds like whoever bought your friend's boat is in the drug business.
Possible, but unlikely. The guy told me he had sold a previous boat for cash and that's why he had so much on hand.
Then the guy who bought his boat is probably dirty. In my experience honest people don't do business in large sums of cash, unless they're dodging the IRS, and that's dishonest, too. You want to tell me who the three parties in this two-boat transaction are? I'll check it out.
Not yet, but maybe later.
Pierce gave Stone his cell phone number. You can get me there 'most anytime, unless I'm doing business, and if that's the case, I'll call you back.
Maybe we'll talk later, Jim. Nice to talk to you, Tommy. See you later.
Stone hung up. You get the gist of that?
he asked Dino.
Pretty much. Maybe Evan Keating is in deeper than he thinks.
Maybe.
Chapter 20
STO N E WA S GET T I N G out of the shower when his cell phone vibrated. Hello?
It's Eggers.
Hey, Bill.
Okay, I'm FedExing you the sales contract for Elijah Keating's Sons. I had a hard time getting Warren Keating to let me do it, but I convinced him the sale won't go through until Evan sees the deal. I can tell you now that when he does, he won't like it.
Okay, I'll get it to him tomorrow, then. Bill, was Warren telling me the truth when he said he has no idea what Evan has been doing since his college graduation?
Stone, after what you've learned about that family the past few days, I can't tell you to believe anything Warren says, and if I were you, I'd be damn careful about believing anything Evan tells you, too. I did a little checking and found out what nursing home Warren's dad is in, and I'm having that looked into.
Good. What's the old man's name?
Elijah, like his ancestor; he's called Eli.
Warren said, or maybe you said, that he hired a skip tracer, who found Evan in Miami?
I hired him. Do you know Wally Millard?
Sure, from Elaine's.
Wally was a retired cop, now a private investigator.
I gave it to him, and he got it done.
I'll call Wally.
Tell him I said it's okay to talk to you and to call me for confi rmation if he wants.
Okay. Talk to you later.
Stone hung up and called the Gardens and left a voice mail for Evan Keating. The contract will be here by noon tomorrow. Call me in the morning, and I'll buy you lunch.
Stone looked up Wally Millard's number in his address book and called him.
Hey, Stone.
Hey, Wally. Bill Eggers asked me to call you about a skip trace you did for him.
If I call Eggers, will he tell me that?
Yes.
I'll take your word for it. What do you want to know?
It was a guy named Evan Keating. Apparently, you found him in Miami, but he skipped again.
Jesus, I'm getting too old to go running off to Miami on a skip. I called a guy named Manny White, ex-NYPD, who's a P. I . down there, and he put somebody on it.
Wally gave him White's number.
Took him a couple of weeks, so finding the guy wasn't a piece of cake. Tell him I said to call.
Thanks, Wally. Say hello to Elaine.
Sure.
Wally hung up.
How's Wally?
Dino asked.
He's okay.
I'm hungry, let's get out of here. You can call Manny White later.
You know him?
Old-timer, Wally's generation. I had some dealings with him on a case when I was still in a rookie uniform, and he busted my chops every chance he got.
Obviously, he knew you well.
What do you mean? I was a great rookie.
Yeah, I remember.
Remember what?
Everything.
Oh.
THE Y WE NT T O the Raw Bar for conch fritters, third time. They were halfway through lunch when Stone's cell phone went off. A Miami number.