Loitering With Intent (12 page)

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.

Chapter 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?

Two hours later Eggers arrived in Torrington, and he consulted the map his secretary had printed out from the Internet. It took him another fifteen minutes to find the nursing home, out on the east side of town, toward Hartford.

The Happy Hills Care Center was perched, true to its name, on a low hilltop. There were big oak trees on the front lawn and the building, with its colonial columns, was freshly painted. The reception area was newly decorated, with comfortable chairs. All of this was encouraging. He began to feel better. He approached the front desk, where a well-coifed middle-aged woman gave him a warm smile.

Good morning,
she said. May I help you?

Good morning. My name is William Eggers, and I'd like to visit with Mr. Eli Keating.

The woman turned to her computer and tapped a few keys. I'm sorry, Mr. Eggers, but your name isn't on the authorized visitors list. Are you a family member?

No,
Eggers said, producing his business card, I am Mr. Keating's attorney.

I'm sorry,
she said, still smiling sweetly, I cannot allow anyone who is not on the authorized visitors list to see a patient without a written order from Mr. Keating's guardian.

Guardian? And who might that be?

She consulted her computer screen. Mr. Warren Keating.

Who is the director of this institution?
Eggers inquired.

The medical director or the administrative director?

Who's in charge?

One moment, please.
She picked up the phone and tapped in an extension. Mr. Parker? There's a gentleman at the front desk who insists on speaking with someone in authority. Could you come out here right away, please? Thank you so much.
She hung up. Mr. Parker will be right with you, she said.

And what is Mr. Parker's position here?

Mr. Parker is the administrative director.

And who is the medical director?

That would be Dr. Parker.

Would Mr. Parker be the son of Dr. Parker?

That would be correct.

Ah, a family business.
Eggers was too agitated to sit down, so he paced. After a few minutes a skinny young man in an ill-fi tting blue suit appeared.

I'm Mr. Parker,
he said. How can I help you?

Mr. Parker, I am the attorney for Mr. Eli Keating, who is an inmate of your institution.

A patient,
Parker said.

We'll see. I wish to see Mr. Keating at once.

He's not on Mr. Keating's visitors list,
the receptionist said.

Then I'm afraid it will not be possible for you to see Mr. Keating,
young Parker said.

Mr. Parker, you'd better get your daddy out here right now, Eggers said in a low voice, and I mean right now.

The young man's eyes widened slightly, and he turned to the receptionist. Call Dr. Parker, code three.

The receptionist called another extension and repeated the message. Half a minute later, a gray-haired, gray-skinned man in a starched white lab coat presented himself at the front desk.

This man wants to see Mr. Keating,
young Parker said to his father. I've explained that that is not possible, since he is not on the visitors list.

Who are you?
Dr. Parker asked.

I am Mr. Keating's attorney,
Eggers said, digging out another card, and I have a pretyped court order in my pocket that I can have Judge Carter's signature on in ten minutes, so my advice to you would be to present Mr. Keating now.

Dr. Parker regarded him for a slow count of about fi ve, then picked up a phone and tapped in an extension. This is Dr. Parker. Give Mr. Keating his medication and bring him to the dayroom immediately.

If you medicate that man, I'm calling the police as well as the judge,
Eggers said.

Never mind the medication,
Parker said into the phone, then he hung up. The dayroom is right over there, he said, pointing to a double door. You may have five minutes with Mr. Keating, no more.

I'll take as long as I like,
Eggers said, then he turned and strode toward the doors. The dayroom was as pleasant as the rest of th e place, and Eggers took a seat. Ten minutes passed, and he was about to go looking for Dr. Parker when a door swung open and a beefy orderly pushed a wheelchair into the room.

Eli Keating looked thinner than when Eggers had seen him at the funeral, and his stare was vacant. Eggers stood up. Eli, it's Bill Eggers. How are you?

All right,
Keating said sleepily. I think.

Eggers turned to the orderly. We won't be needing you.

I got my instructions,
the orderly said.

Eggers drew himself to his full six feet, four inches and took a step toward the orderly. Get out.

The man blinked a couple of times, then retreated the way he had come, and began staring through a glass panel in the door. Eggers sat down. Eli, why are you here?

That's what I'd like to know,
Keating said in a manner more himself. You'd have to ask my son.

Listen carefully to me. What is my name?

Bill Eggers.

Who am I?

You're my lawyer, or at least you were. Where the hell have you been?

When did you hire me?

When you joined Woodman and Weld. I knew your daddy.

How old are you?

Eighty-two next week.

What are your sons' names?

Harry and Warren. I've got a grandson, too, Evan. Harry's dead, and I don't know where the hell Evan is. I wish he'd come and get me out of here.

Would you like to leave this place now?

You're goddamned right I would. I want to go back to my house and see my own doctor.

Eggers pulled out his cell phone and pressed the speed-dial button for his secretary. It's Eggers,
he said. Plan B now.
He hung up. You just sit tight, Eli, and I'll have you out of here in less than an hour. My secretary is making a call to a lawyer in Torrington, who is ready to have a court order signed. Do you need an ambulance, or would you rather ride with me in my car?

Bill,
Eli said, if you can stop them from giving me another one of those injections, I'll drive you.

Chapter 26

LAT E I N T H E afternoon, Stone and Dino were back in a rented Boston Whaler, patrolling the marinas, looking for Evan Keating's boat, whatever its name might be.

There's a period piece over there,
Dino said, pointing at a motor yacht.

Too big,
Stone replied. Evan's boat is a thirty-two-footer, and that one is at least forty feet long.

Oh,
Dino said, settling himself on the front bench under the canvas top and sipping a cold beer from a cooler. You want a beer?

I'll wait awhile,
Stone said, gazing at row after row of motorboats. Stone's cell phone vibrated on his belt, and he answered it.

It's Eggers.

Hey, Bill. Listen, we're looking for Evan Keating's boat right now. He checked out of his hotel, and we think we'll find him aboard.

You can forget about Evan Keating,
Eggers said.

What, you got the signed papers?

I did not, and I do not expect to,
Eggers replied.

What's going on?

I've got a lot to tell you,
Eggers said, so relax and enjoy.

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.

Chapter 27