Finch was talking to Ramirez about Shadow’s murder case saying they ought to call in Stone and Mac to bring them up to date with their findings, when Grolnick appeared suddenly into the doorway from the corridor. He seemed to be a little out of breath.
‘Guys. Thanks for waiting. Have you heard?’
Ramirez looked at Finch, they both frowned and pursed their lips drawing a blank and said in unison, ‘No Sir, what?’
‘Well two things. This town’s going crazy. There’s been a bomb, over on 11th St. Above a delicatessen.’
‘Don’t tell me, that’s where Stone and...’
‘Yeah. They’re safe, missed it by half a minute. They’d just parked up round the back when it went off, the Deli owner, Alfredo something or other, was right there in their apartment, gone to fix a tap or something. The boys rushed in and pulled him out but it don't look too good for him, its touch and go over at Kings County Hospital Center.’
They both looked shaken, probably thinking the same thing to themselves, with Shadow out of the picture, who else would want them dead?
‘We were about to call them in to go over the Loman case. God, these boys must have nine lives...’
‘Well, do it quick, they’re still at the hospital, but that brings me onto item number two.’
Grolnick half stood and reached forward and placed a file onto the desk in front of them. He’d just about got his breath back, he called Vera to bring him a coffee.
‘I’ve just got back from Lower Manhattan. A third girl’s gone missing...’ Ramirez was thumbing through the files containing preliminary case information, one for the first missing girl, Tamika Achebe, and one the second, Sofia Perez. ‘...Jessica Wong. The Commissioner is convinced that these are organized abductions. It’s too coincidental, all young girls, school age, bright kids, but get this...all different ethnic origins, Black, Hispanic, now Oriental Chinese.’
‘Why’d you bring the files to us boss?’ asked Ramirez.
‘Drop whatever you're doing, you two are now leading the case, its high profile, high priority, take whoever you want to assist you on this, put a good team together. Leave all press and media contact to me for the moment until you find your feet. Okay?’
Ramirez knew exactly why they’d been chosen to head up the investigation - he in particular. In the last big case of its kind, five years back, seven women went missing across the city. One a day they disappeared, each one found by the east river, naked, raped and strangled. Different locations but at what looked like random times of the day. Detectives and profilers were baffled. Ramirez was drafted in to help broaden the geographical coverage of the search and investigation. The day he joined the team an eighth women went missing, and before they found her body Ramirez had figured out the killer’s bizarre blueprint. Nobody had noticed that the killer had devised an intricate pattern with Christian names, street names and not random times, but precise times.
Ramirez was playing around with all the information and it just came to him out of the blue. The killer was then apprehended by with a mixture of intelligence, prediction and a lot of luck. They cordoned off every single street beginning with H in Brooklyn and Manhattan and locked the whole area down. At the next scheduled time, according to Ramirez’s theory, they spotted a dubious looking van prowling Houston Street in the East Village slowly, hovering around and he began to follow a lone woman. A squad of undercover officers pounced on the car and arrested an ex-con, a rapist who’d done time before. When they searched the van they found a mattress, a bale of nylon rope, a jar of chloroform (enough to knock out a mature male elephant) and DNA from all of the eight murder victims.
The case became known as ‘The Alphabet Killer’. Ramirez received a commendation for his ingenuity which they said, had probably saved the lives of countless unknown women.
He was promoted to Senior Detective.
Ramirez finished off his coffee, took up the files and gestured at Finch to follow him.
‘We’re on it boss.’
Ramirez relished the challenge.
Chapter 48
The news report concluded and all of the TV screens in the hospital waiting room reverted back to children’s cartoons. Stone and Mac didn’t have to wait long for news. The receptionist at the E.R. counter called across to them and they were asked to take the elevator up one floor to the lounge to join Mrs. Zavatonni outside the theatre area.
The lounge where she was sitting was a comfortable room with upholstered seating in clusters around magazine tables and there were water coolers and snack machines dotted around the walls. It was obviously an area where at times relatives would have to spend long hours whilst a father, or a mother, or indeed son or daughter was in the operating room. An anxious wait is always better if you don't have to worry about your surroundings.
Sitting alongside Mrs. Zavatonni appeared to be a young married couple. The man was around thirty, dark and had a passing resemblance to Alfredo. The pretty woman with long black hair, in her late twenties no more, had her arms linked to the man and sat quietly while he spoke with his mother. Stone and Mac had not yet reached the seating area when two doctors emerged from a set of double doors. Their masks were hanging loosely around their necks and they still had their surgical gloves and coveralls on. They approached Mrs. Zavatonni with a solemn look and walked quite slowly until they reached her and her son.
Stone and Mac stood where they were to afford them some privacy. They were not close enough to hear what the Doctors were saying and couldn’t discern much either as they had their backs to them.
It soon became evident exactly what the Doctors had said to her because she burst into tears shaking her head from side to side and fell into her son’s arms, sobbing uncontrollably. Stone and Mac went over to give their condolences and got out of the way to allow the family some privacy.
Alfredo Zavatonni was dead.
Mac drove away them away from the hospital and they realized that they now had nowhere to live, so they decided to check back into a hotel. Before they got very far down the road Stone received a phone call from Finch.
Finch said he had heard about the explosion and told him that they were all glad that they were both unhurt. An investigation would be carried out by experts, starting with the fire department’s findings, he said, and that as soon as there was any news on the cause and or culprit, he would let them know. Finch went on to tell them that he needed to see them about one or two matters, trying not to alarm them too much after their recent ordeal, but it was important, and the sooner they could get in to see him the better. Stone told Finch that they could drop by on the way to the hotel and said they would be there in roughly thirty minutes.
The weather at Nassau International Airport on the island of New Providence was considerably better than that which Jamil Bashir had left behind him a little more than three hours earlier. He had travelled to the Bahamas on a regular flight out of Washington and told his work colleagues that he was going away for a few days R&R and to catch up on some rays. He didn’t say which resort or which hotel he was headed for or who he was going to be with.
The fifty degree temperature difference was very welcome, when he left his apartment at seven a.m. he had to scrape ice from the windshield of his Lexus, when he stepped out of the plane the midday heat reflected off the tarmac and bathed Jamil’s face in warmth he hadn’t felt since the summer. He took off his suit jacket and folded it over his arm and wished he’d put on his shades before he left his seat. Jamil wouldn't be staying in a hotel and wouldn't need to scramble for a taxi, Maloof had sent a driver to collect him and deliver him straight to his private, beach-front house at Old Fort Cay on the north west tip of the island.
Maloof’s other visitors, the five Saudi dealers, had arrived earlier in his chartered plane, and were already sitting around his pool bar sipping fruit punches having had a swim in the crystal clear waters a short walk down the beach from the house.
The driver pulled up under the entrance can
opy to the house and Maloof was there to greet Bashir. He welcomed him warmly, told him to relax and had his valet show him to his ocean view room. He would be escorted to the pool where he would meet the others and have an aperitif before lunch.
The deal and other business matters would be conducted later in the afternoon, Maloof said, and entertainment had been laid on for each of his guests for later in the evening. Maloof said this with a wide smile and an arm wrapped around his shoulders and Jamil had little doubt as to what it meant.
After a delicious lunch, several cigars and innumerable drinks, the businessmen got down to thrashing out the details and finer points of the deal that would see three shipments of arms being delivered to Maloof’s warehouse and quayside by the end of the week. Papers were signed and gifts were presented and there was even talk of further deals to come. Maloof was determined to make this deal the last, he had other plans, he maintained his usual air of cordiality and cooperation with the Saudi buyers but as soon as the payment was in his Cayman account, he would disappear from view. Arrangements for his New York apartment, the house in the Bahamas and all of his staff to be sold and disbanded had already been put in place.
Business was concluded, Jamil accepted Maloof’s offer to travel back with the Saudi contingent who were due to fly back to New York the following morning. Maloof further offered that he should stay in his private apartment in Manhattan, for as long as he wished, before returning to the fray in Washington. He accepted gladly.
There was one remaining item on the itinerary, a specific request and an essential part of the overall deal. Rachel had notified Maloof by cell phone that everything was in order and had been executed to the letter. When Maloof announced to the Saudi’s that everything was in place, they nodded their approval and retired to their rooms, looking forward to their evening’s entertainment.
Chapter 49
Mac had more difficulty than usual parking in the precinct’s car park due to the presence of TV network vans with their roof top satellite dishes spread around in every available space. They had to park way over in the back corner and walked over to the main doors which were besieged with reporters and cameramen standing around talking to each other with mice and notepads in hand waiting to pounce on anyone emanating from the station who looked like a potential spokesman.
Stone and Mac threaded their way around tripods and clambered over cables and junction boxes and wondered why so many TV crews were stalking the place. They asked the duty sergeant on the desk what all the fuss was about, but he was on a call, he cupped the phone’s mouthpiece and said ‘Cos of the girls, you know.’ They were none the wiser, until they bounced up Lt. Grolnick who just happened to be passing through the corridor on their way to Finch’s office.
Grolnick told them that he’d heard about the blast and how lucky that they weren’t in the apartment at the time. He went on to say how sad he was to hear about Alfredo, he’d been in the deli several times and remembered him as jovial old character.
‘We’re waiting for reports as to the cause but...we’re pretty sure that the bomb was meant for you,’ he said looking at both of them.
‘We came to the same conclusion,’ said Stone.
‘In fact we’re almost certain because of what happened with Ramirez,’ said Grolnik, as they were headed for the stairs.
‘How do you mean, how is he involved?’ Stone and Mac walked back over to him, he looked as if he had more to say.
‘Ramirez is back.’ Grolnick looked around and lowered his voice when he told them, ‘...He’s a good cop, I’ve known him for twenty years and when he was dealing with the Randall case, and then Bloom, something wasn’t right. I called him in and that’s when the pressure finally got to him. Someone was putting the squeeze on him, threatening his daughter, a guy called Maloof, he told him if he couldn’t get you Stone put away for a long time, he’d kill Conchita, his daughter. Ever heard of him?’
‘Maloof you say? No, it doesn’t ring a bell, though someone put a tracker on Mac’s car a few days ago and it wasn’t Shadow, it’s not his style, if he’d have wanted me dead, I would have been by now.’
‘Yeah, he wants to speak to you about him as well. Oh and one more thing, Ramirez and Finch are heading up the investigation for the missing school girls.’
‘That explains the circus outside.’
‘Yeah. ‘Fraid so.’
Grolnick went on his way and Stone and Mac carried on up the stairs.
They reached the double doors leading to the squad room but there was some kind of meeting taking place. Through the glass Stone and Mac could see Ramirez leaning his thighs against a table addressing the assembled officers. He was in full swing, pointing at a glass wall of information behind him and then pacing around left and right in the space in front of it. Finch was sitting at his desk, other officers were strewn around the room on every available chair, table, desk and some even had to stand up.
Tariq was there too, he seemed to be working his laptop because as his fingers were clicking away, slides were being projected onto a screen on the left of the wall of information.
Ramirez’s voice became louder and more animated and it was clear that his address was coming to an end and he was rallying his troops. Chairs started to scrape on the floor and the room started to empty leaving two pairs of detectives on the far side of the squad room at their own desks and Finch and Tariq in their usual places. Ramirez had seen Stone and Mac waiting outside the double doors and called them to come in.
They both stepped inside and could now see the glass wall up close. There was a photograph of each of the missing school girls with their names written above in black marker, Tamika Achebe, Sofia Perez and the third girl, Jessica Wong.
Tamika’s photo was obviously an enlarged head shot taken from a team pose, possibly in the school grounds before or after a match, she was wearing netball strip, her vest had the letters GS on it and she was smiling from ear to ear. Her hair was tied back, she wore no jewelry. She had a green band around her right wrist which could be seen as her arms were folded in front of her.
Sofia Perez’s shot was of her sitting at her desk in the classroom, she had a serious expression and again had her arms folded. She had on her school uniform and had various pins on her jacket and what looked like a closed study book on the desk in front of her.
In contrast to the others, Jessica Wong was standing with her family on a visit to the local zoo. She was dressed in casual clothes and had her arm around her little brother who was pulling a face at the camera.
Underneath each photograph were their age, height, and the time and place where they were last seen scribbled directly onto the glass in red marker pen. Below and around the girl’s photos were other shots of school buildings, their homes and sections of street maps. They were linked to each other in green marker and the maps had colored push pins denoting strategic locations of interest.
Stone and Mac dragged themselves away from the wall and sat down around Finch’s desk. After some talk about the bomb and Alfredo and offers of commiseration from all around, Ramirez got down to business.
‘Thanks for coming in guys, the first thing I need to tell you is that I’m...’
‘Back on the case...yeah, we just spoke to Grolnick, we’re sorry to hear what you’ve been through,’ said Stone.
‘Appreciate it. I want to apologize, I err...put you through the wringer and I should have worked the evidence and the evidence only.’
Stone and Mac nodded in acknowledgment and they are exchanged glances and agreed to move on.
‘Okay, so what’s the deal now,’ asked Mac.
Ramirez opened a file on the desk and said they needed to clear up one or two things. He explained that it wasn’t an interrogation, nothing would be recorded and that they were not under suspicion but he asked, ‘Can you tell me what you were doing at Loman’s office building earlier today at approximately 11.33 a.m.?’
‘That’s a pretty precise time, guess there’s no
point in denying it,’ said Stone.
‘We have you on security video entering the building at that time and l-e-a-v-i-n-g...’ Ramirez was dragging out the question while he consulted the file. ‘...11.44.’
‘Tell him Brad, we’ve got nothing to hide,’ said Mac.
‘Okay. We planned to get the money back for Mrs. Randall but I chickened out when this janitor guy saw me just as I was about to go into the office.’
Ramirez let Stone sweat a minute and Finch whispered something into his ear.
‘So you didn’t go there with the intention to kill Chad Loman?’
‘No. No way...it was just to...wait a minute, are you saying he’s dead?’ Stone sat up at the realization of how Ramirez put the question to him.
‘Yes. He’s dead. Blown away in cold blood as he sat at his own desk. Stone do me a small favor, lift up your left foot and show me the sole of your shoe will you?’
‘What’s this for?’ Stone lifted up his foot and they could all see traces of blood in between the ribs and tread of his shoes.
‘That Mr. Stone is the blood of the killer who was shot in the back as they went to leave. But they didn’t make it.’ Ramirez allowed Stone time to take a breather and then let him off the hook completely. ‘Relax Stone, as I said, you're not under suspicion, and we know you didn’t take the money because it was still there, sitting in the attaché case when we went to investigate. It’s an open and shut case. The ballistics report and GSR on both victims’ means we’re not looking for anyone else for these homicides. In fact, the report has cleared up three cases.’
‘Three?’
‘The bullet that killed Bloom was fired from Shadow’s gun and also shot his assailant in the back. The bullet retrieved from Shadow’s body came from the person we found dead on the restroom floor a few yards down the hall.’
DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2) Page 19
