28
STONE AND DINO were with Tommy Sculley when Bob Cantor called back.
“Hey, Bob,” Stone said. “You okay?”
“I’m okay. Are you in New York?”
“No, I’m in Key West.”
“That’s almost as good as St. Thomas, which is where I am.”
“Not bad, Bob. Can you get me a cell phone number from there?”
“Maybe. Old number?”
“New number, maybe only a day or two old.”
“Do you know where the caller is based?”
“Key West, I should think.”
“What’s the name?”
“Evan Keating.” Stone spelled it for him.
“I’m going to need to do some work on the computer,” Bob said. “I’ll call you back.”
“Today?”
“Give me a few minutes.”
“Okay, thanks, Bob.” Stone hung up.
“What else can we do?” he asked Dino.
“I think this is our best bet,” Dino replied. “Let’s wait to hear from Bob, before we start patrolling the streets, which seems like our last remaining option.”
Stone’s cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“It’s Manny. Did you send the money?”
“I haven’t had a chance yet, Manny, but I’ll get it to FedEx before the day is out, okay?”
“Terrific. When I get it, I’ll give you what I’ve got.”
“You’ve got something on Keating?”
“Yes, I have.”
“Come on, Manny, you’ll get the money.”
“This is business, Barrington. Why should I trust you?”
“Jesus Christ.”
“I wouldn’t trust him, either. Tell you what: You go send the money, then give me the tracking number, and I’ll check it out. If it’s on the way, I’ll tell you what I’ve got.”
Stone sighed again. “All right, Manny.” He hung up.
Tommy spoke up. “Is this the same Manny White from the Nineteenth?”
“I’m afraid so.”
“He was always a pain in the ass. Sit tight; I’ll be right back.” Tommy got up from the table and disappeared through a door. A moment later he was back with a FedEx envelope and waybill. “Here you go; they’ll call it in from the office.”
Stone put five hundreds in the envelope, addressed it and made a note of the tracking number, then Tommy took it to the office.
Stone called Manny White.
“Good day, Manny White Investigations,” Manny said.
“Isn’t this still the private line?” Stone asked.
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Stone Barrington.”
“What do you want?”
“Manny, it’s what you want. The FedEx tracking number, remember?”
“Yeah, gimme it.”
Stone recited the number. “Okay?”
“Okay.”
“So what’s your information?”
“I haven’t had a chance to call FedEx and track it yet. I’ll call you back.”
“Manny, the package is in the office of the Key West Yacht Club, waiting for FedEx to pick it up.”
“So it’s not in the system yet?”
“I guess not, but it will be.”
“I can’t track ‘will be.’ ”
Tommy and Dino were laughing so hard they couldn’t eat.
“Look,” Tommy said, pointing out the front window. A FedEx truck was leaving the parking lot.
“Okay, Manny,” Stone said, “the truck just left; it’s in the system.”
“I’ll call you back.” Manny hung up.
“It would have been easier to go to Miami and look for the guy myself,” Stone said. His cell phone buzzed. “Hello?”
“Is this Barrington?”
“Yes, Manny.”
“Your package checked out.”
“Good, Manny, now what’s the information you have?”
“Here it is—after a thorough search, the name Evan Keating does not appear on any hotel register in South Beach.”
“That’s it?” Tommy and Dino were in new paroxysms of laughter.
“That’s it.”
“That’s what you call information?”
“It’s what I call very hard-won information,” Manny replied. “My agent had to go to every hotel to get it.”
“Okay, Manny,” Stone said, “cancel the rest of the search.”
“Whatever you say,” Manny said, and he hung up.
Tommy spoke through his tears. “You gotta admit, it was information. Now you know where the guy is not.”
Stone’s cell phone went off. “Hello?”
“It’s Cantor.”
“Good. What’ve you got for me?”
“Zip, I’m afraid. Nobody by that name has gotten new cell phone service in Key West for a week.”
Stone thought about that. “Anybody named Gigi Jones on the list of new customers?”
“Lemme see.” Cantor was shuffling papers. “Nope, nobody by that name, either.”
“Okay, Bob, thanks. Send me your bill.”
“In Key West?”
“Nope, in New York.”
“See ya.” Cantor hung up.
“Stone,” Tommy said, “if Evan Keating lost his old cell phone and is getting a new one, why would he get a new number?”
Stone smote his forehead. “Right! He’d just cancel the old phone and transfer the number to the new phone!”
“Why didn’t you think of that?” Dino asked.
“I don’t know. I should have.”
“Your brain is Swede-addled,” Dino said.
“Is this the doctor?” Tommy asked.
“Yeah. Stone has been sacrificing himself on that altar every night.”
“Some sacrifice,” Tommy said.
Stone ignored them; he was looking for Evan Keating’s old cell number in the list of calls in his phone’s memory. He found it and pressed the send button.
“Hello?”
“Evan?”
“Yes. Who’s this?”
“It’s Stone Barrington.”
Long pause. “What do you want?”
“I need to see you. There have been developments at home that you need to know about.”
“Where are you?”
“At the Key West Yacht Club.”
“Funny, so am I,” Evan said. “I’m parked within sight of the bar, which I figure is where you’re calling from.”
“Don’t move,” Stone said. He got up and started walking toward the door.