13
STONE WAS WAKENED by a buzzing noise that he did not immediately recognize. It took him a moment to see that his cell phone, vibrating, was doing a little dance on the glass top of Annika’s dressing table. He gently removed Annika’s blonde head from his shoulder, tiptoed naked across the room and picked up the phone. “Yes?” he whispered.
“Where the hell are you?” Dino asked. “As if I didn’t know.”
“I’m at Annika’s. What do you want?”
“That figures. This whole thing is blowing wide open, and you’re in the sack with a blonde.”
“What do you mean, it’s blowing wide open?”
“I mean that Charley Boggs was found floating face down in Garrison Bight this morning, not far from his houseboat, dead as a mackerel.”
“I saw him get into a fight last night at Louie’s Backyard. He lost.”
“Was he alive after the fight?”
“Yes, he left under his own steam.”
“You might want to pass that news on to Tommy Sculley,” Dino said. “I expect he’d want a chat with the other fighter.”
“I’ll call him in a few minutes,” Stone said.
“What, after you’ve fucked the blonde again?”
“None of your business. And don’t worry, Charley Boggs isn’t going anywhere.”
“Okay, you fuck the girl, and I’ll call Tommy. Give me a description of the fighter.”
“White male, five-nine, a hundred and seventy, dark hair, lots of stubble. Built like he labors for a living.”
“That’ll do. Go get back in bed.” Dino hung up.
Stone got back in bed, and Annika snuggled up close to him. “I like it that we’re both blonde,” she said. “I mean blonde all over. That must be very rare in this country.”
“Now that you mention it, it is rare, at least for me.” He kissed her and their tongues played with each other.
“I hope you are fully rested from last night,” she said, “and ready to make love again.”
“I think I might just manage it,” Stone replied, “if you do most of the work.”
“All right,” she said, cheerfully. “We did the missionary position and the doggie position last night; now we will do the blow-job position. Lie on your back.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Stone said, following instructions.
She glanced at the clock. “You mustn’t take too long to come, because I must go to work.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”
STONE GOT BACK to the Marquesa in time to see Dino’s breakfast dishes taken away.
“Have you eaten anything?” Dino asked. “I’m referring to the like of bacon and eggs.”
“Nothing like that,” Stone said. He picked up the phone and ordered.
“As soon as you can get yourself together, we should go over to Boggs’s houseboat,” Dino said.
“Why?”
“Well, don’t you think we might find something there that could tell us more about your Evan Keating?”
“I suppose we might.”
“You don’t think very clearly first thing in the morning, do you?”
“I do, but I wasn’t thinking about Charley Boggs.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah.”
“I take it you had a pleasant evening.”
“That is an inadequate description of my evening.”
“I think I’m going to have to call Genevieve and get her down here,” Dino said, referring to his girlfriend.
“If that will keep you from exploding with envy, by all means. She can ride back with us.”
Dino went inside to use the phone, and Stone had his breakfast.
THEY ARRIVED AT the Garrison Bight houseboat of Charley Boggs an hour later, with Stone freshly shaved and showered. Tommy Sculley was sitting in a teak chair on the rear deck reading the local newspaper.
“Take a pew,” Tommy said. “My crime scene people will let us in there in a few minutes.”
“This is your idea of working a scene?” Dino said, sitting down.
“First, they work it and show me any evidence, then I work it. Like that, we don’t get in each other’s way.”
“This is where Charley Boggs liked to do his fishing,” Stone said, sitting down. “You think he fell in and drowned?”
Tommy nodded. “I think he could have fallen in and drowned right after he caught the bullet in the back of the head. He might have lived long enough to drown.”
“Any luck on the guy he fought with at Louie’s last night?” Stone asked.
Tommy nodded. “Guy name of Billy Guy.” He jerked a thumb behind him, toward the row of charter fishing boats. “He skippers a fisherman parked over there. My guy Daryl is talking to him now.”
“That’s quick work,” Stone said.
“It’s Key West; nobody who lives here can go into a restaurant or bar without being seen by somebody who knows him. It makes life simpler when you want to find a guy.”
“Any news on what the fight was about?”
“Daryl will bring us up to date after he pumps Billy. He’s already talked to a couple of witnesses; you’re next.”
“Sounds like he won’t need me,” Stone said.
“You could be right,” Tommy replied, turning the page of his newspaper.
“Anything worth reading in there?” Dino asked.
“Nothing about Charley Boggs,” Tommy said. “He was found only a couple of hours ago.”
“Do a lot of people in Key West get shot in the back of the head?” Stone asked.
“Remarkably few compared to, say, New Orleans or Chicago. Last execution-style killing I can remember here was year before last. This one is the first gunshot killing of any kind this year. Hope it’s the last.”
Daryl appeared on the gangplank. “Permission to come aboard, skipper?”
“Get your ass aboard,” Tommy called back.
Daryl, clad in jeans and a splashy shirt with a lot of tropical fruit on it, came onto the rear deck and seated himself on the railing, since all the chairs were occupied by his elders.
“So?” Tommy asked. “Are we charging Billy Guy with Charley’s murder?”
“Probably not,” Daryl said.
“What was the fight about?”
“Charley made an unkind comment about Billy’s girl. Billy took exception and put a fist in Charley’s face.”
“I got sort of a sideways look at that,” Stone said. “The management separated them before it got any farther.”
“Was Charley’s remark unkind enough to make Billy want to kill him?” Tommy asked.
“Nah,” Daryl replied, “and his girl wasn’t even along. She was back on his boat with PMS. He got home about nine and stuck.”
“Is that just Billy’s story, or did she confirm it?”
“She confirmed.”
“It’s not very far from over there to over here,” Tommy pointed out.
“I know Billy,” Daryl said. “I don’t think he has a murderous streak.”
“If you say so, Daryl,” Tommy said.
A Boston Whaler putted by with Charley Boggs’s corpse covered and strapped to a stretcher.
“You have a decent medical examiner down here?” Stone asked.
“Yeah, but he ain’t going to find anything, except a bullet in Charley’s brain. This one ain’t rocket science.”
“Then somebody tell me who offed Charley Boggs,” Stone said. “And tell me if Evan Keating had anything to do with it.”
“All in good time,” Tommy said, turning to the sports page.