“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.”