Loitering with Intent

4

TO REACH THE restaurant, Stone and Dino walked out the front entrance of the hotel and to the street corner, to the front door of the dining room. It was a tastefully decorated space, with a bar to the left and a dozen or fifteen tables to the right. An attractive blonde greeted them.

“You must be Mr. Barrington and Mr. Bacchetti,” she said, “according to my list.”

“That’s us,” Stone replied. “And we have another gentleman joining us.”

“I’m Janet,” she said. “Right this way.” She seated them at a corner table and left menus. A waiter materialized, greeted them and asked for their drinks order.

“I don’t suppose you have Knob Creek bourbon,” Stone said resignedly.

“You may suppose we do,” the waiter replied. “We have another customer who forced us to order it.”

“On the rocks, please.”

Dino ordered his Scotch.

The restaurant was filling up rapidly; even all the bar stools were taken. “Busy place,” Stone said.

“The food must be good,” Dino replied. “Hey, here’s Tommy!”

He stood up to greet their old acquaintance as he entered the restaurant, and so did Stone. Shortly, Tommy had a margarita before him.

“You’re drinking that tropical swill?” Dino asked.

“After a while down here, it gets to be unpatriotic if you don’t,”

Tommy replied.

“How’s retirement treating you, Tommy?” Stone asked.

“Who’s retired? A week after I hit town, I was a detective again.”

“Working homicide?”

“Are you kidding? You’re in Paradise; we get like one homicide a year, if we’re lucky, and it’s nearly always perfectly clear who the killer is. He’s usually standing there, holding a gun or a claw hammer in his hand, when we walk in. The only problem is getting him not to talk too fast while we’re taking his statement.”

“What keeps you busy, then?” Dino asked.

“Drug stuff, burglaries, mostly small-time. We get a lot of drifters down here, especially in the winter. They at least know they’re not going to freeze to death, and they can steal enough to eat. We get the usual domestic stuff, too, only more of it is gay than in New York.”

“What’s the job like?”

“Pretty interesting. The first thing I had to do was to train my partner, a kid named Daryl, whose acne had not yet cleared up. He was the chief’s nephew at the time.”

“Sounds like a drag.”

“No, he was quick to learn, and he’s turned into a pretty good detective. His uncle is gone now, and so is the guy who replaced him. Last week, the chief and two captains resigned over a scandal.”

“What kind of scandal?”

“Fixing parking tickets, harassing gay guys on bicycles, hiring girlfriends as secretaries and fucking them in the supply room, drinking on the job, you name it. Nothing big, just a lot of continuous horseshit. I’m currently acting chief of detectives—all six of them. They offered me the chief’s job, but I’m too old for the politics and the PR horseshit.”

“I don’t blame you,” Dino said. “I’m running the squad at the Nineteenth, and that’s almost more politics than I can stand.”

“What’s the most interesting case you’ve worked down here, Tommy?” Stone asked.

“Oh, that’s an easy one,” Tommy laughed. “We had a big drugs, murder, sex thing right after I signed on that involved some prominent locals, among them the local tennis pro. You remember a player named Chuck Chandler?”

“The guy who choked in the Wimbledon final some years back?”

“That’s the guy. The sports pages called it the Chuck Choke, and it stuck.”

“I hope he didn’t murder anybody.”

“Nah, he was pretty much the dope in the thing. There was one very hot babe mixed up in it, though. She’s doing time right now, ought to be out soon.”

“What’s it like living here?” Stone asked.

“Beautiful in the winter, spring and fall; hot as hell in the summer, but no worse than New York. At least we get the breeze. You like boats?”

“Sure, who doesn’t?”

“I’ll take you out for some snorkeling,” Tommy said. “Snorkeling and a few drinks. We got a very nice little yacht club here, and I’ll take you there for dinner. Tomorrow night?”

“Sure,” Stone and Dino said simultaneously.

“So,” Tommy said, “what brings you guys down here?”

“It’s winter, isn’t it?” Dino answered.

“I’m running a legal errand,” Stone said. “I’ve got to fi nd a guy and get him to sign some papers.”

“Anybody I know?”

“I doubt it. Kid hates his father, but the old man needs his signature on some papers to sell the family business. Means a lot of bucks for the whole family, the kid, too, so it shouldn’t be too much trouble to persuade him.” Stone showed Tommy the old photo of Evan. Tommy looked at it and screwed his face up. “What’s his name?”

“Evan Keating,” Stone replied. “Know him?”

“In a manner of speaking,” Tommy replied. “I busted him in a drug case yesterday, but it ain’t going to stick.”

“Do you know where I can fi nd him?”

Tommy motioned his chin in the direction of the bar. “Right over there, third stool from the left.”

Stone looked toward the bar. The man’s back was mostly to him, but he could catch a little profile. He was heavier than in his college photo and had longer hair, and he was dressed in jeans, cowboy boots and a flowered shirt, with the tail out, Hawaiian-style. He was talking to a beautiful girl on the next bar stool, with long, honeycolored hair, dressed in tight jeans and a leather jacket.

“Excuse me a minute,” Stone said, rising and walking toward the bar. He walked up to the two people, who turned and looked at him. Evan Keating had a thin, straight nose and bright blue eyes.

“Mr. Keating?” Stone said. “I’m sorry to intrude, but I just wanted to introduce myself.” He handed the young man his card. “My name is Stone Barrington, and I’ve been sent by my law firm to Key West to deliver some documents for your signature.”

“You must think I’m somebody else,” Keating said. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I’m aware of that, Mr. Keating, but we could get together for a few minutes tomorrow morning. I’m sure you will find our conversation greatly to your advantage.”

Keating regarded him evenly for a moment without speaking, then he said, “Why don’t we step outside for a moment and discuss this?”

“Of course,” Stone replied.

Keating got up and led the way out, while Stone followed. Outside on the sidewalk a bench had been placed as a waiting area for the restaurant, and Keating motioned Stone to sit down. Stone sat down next to Keating, his back to the restaurant door.

“I know this will come as a surprise to you, but my law fi rm represents Elijah Keating’s Sons, and . . .”

Something struck the back of Stone’s neck, and the night exploded in stars.