“Yes, you mentioned that. How do you plan to do it?”
“You’ll find out at the same moment they do, Stone. What I want you to do is to negotiate an immunity agreement for Gigi and me with the county attorney before I tell them.”
“What do you wish to be immune from?”
“Prosecution for any crime or knowledge of a crime committed in the state of Florida.”
“That’s kind of broad, isn’t it? Why don’t we narrow it down to the specific circumstances?”
“I like the idea of broad,” Evan said. “And remember, it has to include Gigi, too.”
“Why Gigi?”
“Stone . . .”
“I know, I know. I’ll find out when you tell them.”
“Yes. I just want a clear and enforceable understanding with the prosecutor, before I tell them what I have to tell them.”
“And speaking of the lovely Gigi, where is she?”
“Grocery shopping for the boat. I don’t want her included in this meeting.”
“Just in the immunity agreement?”
“Exactly.”
“Evan, tell me why you think they will agree to give you immunity from all crimes? After all, you could have robbed a few banks or something.”
“I haven’t robbed any banks. They’ll give me the agreement because it’s the only way they can solve Charley’s homicide.”
“How can you be sure of that?”
“Trust me, Stone. All will be revealed after we have the immunity agreement.”
Stone sighed and continued to drive. They reached police headquarters and parked the car and Stone hurriedly walked Evan inside.
“Don’t worry about my being shot,” Evan said. “That problem is going to go away after this meeting.”
Stone stopped and faced Evan. “Listen to me. If I’m going to effectively represent you in this meeting, I’m going to have to know in advance of it what you’re going to say.”
“You don’t need to know that, Stone,” Evan replied. “All you need is the immunity agreement.”
Stone threw up his hands and got on the elevator. “I warn you, you could get into trouble by not confiding in your lawyer.”
“No,” Evan replied, “I won’t.”
Stone checked in with the receptionist, and he and Evan were directed to a small, glassed-in conference room across the hall from Tommy’s office. The two men stood up to greet them, Tommy made the introductions, and they all sat down.
“Now,” Tommy said, “what’s this about solving the Boggs killing?”
Stone held up a hand. “First, Tommy, Jim, we’re going to need immunity for Evan and his girlfriend, Gigi Jones.”
“Immunity from what?”
“From any possible criminal involvement in any crime.”
“Hang on,” Rawlings said. “From
“That’s what my client needs to feel comfortable discussing the homicide with you.”
“I don’t know about that,” Rawlings said. “Will you excuse us for a moment?”
“Of course,” Stone replied. He and Evan walked out of the offi ce and took chairs in the hall. They could see Tommy and Rawlings arguing. Arms were being waved. Finally, they were told to come back into the conference room.
“All right,” Rawlings said, “I’ll offer immunity from prosecution for any crime associated with the death of Charley Boggs. That’s the best I can do.”
“All right,” Evan said.
“We’re going to need that in writing,” Stone said. Evan interrupted. “That won’t be necessary, Stone. I trust Mr. Rawlings and Lieutenant Sculley.”
“Evan . . .”
“I’m ready to speak on this subject,” Evan said. Stone shrugged. “All right, but remember, Mr. Rawlings, I’m holding you to this agreement, and Tommy is a witness.”
“Yeah, I’m a witness,” Tommy said. “Now spit it out, Mr. Keating.”
And Evan spat it out.
36
EVAN KEATING REGARDED the two men across the table calmly. “Charley Boggs is not dead,” he said. Rawlings looked at Stone. “For this we came? The guy is still alive?”
“Wait a minute,” Tommy Sculley said, “I have the feeling there’s more. Go on, Evan.”
“I’m Charley Boggs,” Evan said.
Tommy screwed up his face. “
“Yes.”
“Then who was the guy we found floating in Garrison Bight?”
“That was Evan Keating.”
Stone decided to keep his mouth shut, since he was as baffl ed as everybody else.
“Let’s see some I.D.,” Tommy said.
“My I.D. was in Evan’s pocket,” the new Charley Boggs said. “Do you still have it?”
“No,” Tommy said, “it was sent to his parents.”
“Then I’m afraid I can’t help you with I.D.; I only have Evan’s.”
“Mr. Keating,” Rawlings said. “I’m sorry, Mr. Boggs. Who killed Char . . . Evan Keating?”
“I did,” Charley said.
“Why?”
“It was self-defense. I’m sorry, I mean it was in defense of another’s life.”
“Whose life?” Tommy asked.
“Gigi’s. Evan was about to kill her, and I shot him in the head. I was afraid that if I shot him anywhere else, his gun would go off.”
“We found Charley’s gun,” Tommy said. “I mean your gun. Whosever gun it was who lived in the boathouse. It hadn’t been fi red.”
“Evan’s gun,” Charley said. “He had two of them. I shot him with the other one.”
“And where is the other one?”
“I ditched it in the sea, off Key West.”
“Can you point out the spot?”
“I don’t think so; it was a dark night.”
“Why did . . . the other guy want to kill Gigi?”
“Because Gigi had stolen his drugs from a hiding place in the wheelhouse of his boat. Oh, and some from his motorcycle, too.”
“And what did Gigi do with the drugs?”
“I dropped them into the sea, along with Evan’s gun.”
“How much drugs?”
“I’m not sure; seven or eight bags, I think. I didn’t want to be involved in the drug business, so I got rid of the stuff.”
Tommy picked up a phone and dialed an extension. “Bring me a fingerprint kit,” he said.
