DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2) (10 page)

BOOK: DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2)
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Chapter 22

 

 

Since Rachel had been told the address for the man who had bought the flowers for Rebecca she couldn’t stop thinking about seeing her sister again. The only thing to do, she thought, was to go right away, today. Rachel had her own private limousine with a full time chauffeur; she called and gave him her instructions for the day. The limousine arrived and Rachel set off for Brooklyn. On the journey over she could hardly think about anything else but seeing her twin sister for the first time in thirteen years.

She wondered how Stone was after the shooting at the cemetery, she saw that he had reached for his arm and consoled herself that he would still be alive at least. She had no real way of finding out other than to call Bloom, the lawyer, but she would not be able to explain to him how she knew about the shooting, so she decided to put it out of her mind. One thing for sure though, she thought, was that any future involvement with Shadow would be crazy, she had to find a way to get him out of her life permanently, he knew where she lived. Perhaps she would sell the apartment after all, if it meant she would be free of him.

Her thoughts were disturbed by her cell phone ringing, she hadn’t heard it at first, she looked at the screen and saw it was Maloof. They hadn’t spoken since he had left the apartment the previous day, just before Bloom’s call about the funeral. She had learnt not to question him about his business although it still baffled her as to why the manager of a billionaire’s property portfolio kept strange business hours and worked in such a secretive way. She picked up his call.

‘Hi baby, how’s things?’

‘Good. Good. Where are you? What are you doing?’ he asked. He was becoming possessive.
He
disappeared at any time of the day or night but he always insisted on knowing where
she
was. She wasn’t used to being monitored, she cherished her independence. Rachel just needed a little more security and she’d dispense with the likes of Maloof and Shadow once and for all. For now though she had to show a measure of subservience.

‘I’m just across town doing a few errands,’ Rachel replied.

‘I’ll be back around seven p.m. we should go out to dinner, we’ll talk more then, I just wanted to know what was happening about the arrangements, I hope you're on top of them?’

Rachel had to think fast, it wasn’t good to lie to Maloof, he somehow always found out. She had called a contractor but hadn’t set up a meeting with them yet to discuss in detail the room refurbishments for Maloof’s guests who were arriving in a few days’ time. She figured she’d phone them directly after Maloof’s call and meet them later that afternoon. She had to show some progress.

‘Baby, that’s where I’m going now. I called the contractor yesterday and we’re meeting up to go over things, I’ll be back by seven. Dinner sounds great.’

‘Hmm okay I want to know what’s going on so we’ll talk over dinner. See you back at the apartment okay?’

‘Okay babes.’ Rachel thought she had rescued the situation quite well, now she really did have to meet the contractor so she called and fixed the meeting up.

A few minutes later her mind wandered back to Rebecca, they were approaching
Prospect Park and her anxiety intensified. The street was up ahead. She sat on the edge of her seat and looked at the houses searching for the number.

She told the driver to slow down.

Rachel was craning her neck to look at the house numbers on each house trying to find number 1189, 34th St. She was getting anxious with anticipation now that they had found the street, now all she had to do was find the house. The pain of thirteen years of waiting and the bitter and frustrating memories were swimming around her head clouding her ability to think straight. She wondered how she would look now, had Rebecca missed
her
?

Why hadn’t she tried to find me?

They were getting closer, 1179, 1181. ‘Slow right down driver I don’t want to miss it,’ Rachel instructed. Then she saw it, house 1189, a featureless townhouse, the same shape as all the others in the row. The yard was unkempt, just a few trees and shrubs, there was an old’ish looking car on the drive but no other redeemable features.

‘Stop. That’s it.’ The car slowed right down, moved into the kerb and stopped. ‘Driver I won’t be long, okay?’

The driver said okay and Rachel stepped out and her feet seemed to drag along the ground nervous at the thought of seeing Rebecca after so many years. What would she say to her? What if she didn’t want to see me? We have so much to talk about, she thought.

Without realizing she had reached the front door and saw it had a bell. She rung it twice and looked up at the house, her heart was pounding in her chest. She heard a dog barking inside the house, another ten seconds or so later and the door clicked and started to open. A tall, dark haired man, about thirty years old answered the door. He looked as unkempt as the yard and was holding back his dog by the collar. It must be Mark Fielding, she thought. Rachel had hoped that Rebecca would be there to open the door.

The man was taken aback; he was shocked and couldn’t speak. Rachel suddenly realized why. Mark Fielding was looking at Rebecca’s identical twin sister.

‘Hi. Mr. Fielding? My name is Rachel, Rebecca’s sister. Is she at home?’ Rachel’s voice was a little shaky; she couldn’t disguise her nervousness and looked around to the side of Fielding into the house to see if she could see Rebecca. ‘Is she home?’ she repeated. Fielding still hadn’t spoken a word; he was still stupefied by the sight of Rachel. Apart for the hairstyle they had the same color hair - Rebecca always tied her hair back, Rachel usually kept hers loose, letting her natural curls and ringlets fall to her shoulders – they were identical. Rachel was the same height, about five-four, had the same complexion and the same mesmerizing dark brown eyes above high cheekbones. There was no mistaking, that Rachel was every bit as beautiful as Rebecca. Fielding realized he was staring and tried hard to avert his gaze.

‘She err…she’s not here,’ he said. He was definitely having trouble knowing what to say. ‘How did you know where we…’ he started.

‘The flowers. I mean…I visited my mom’s grave a little while ago and there was a fresh bunch of flowers and a message from Rebecca on her grave. Your name was on the back and I…well I found where she lives.’

‘She doesn’t anymore. Not for some time,’ said Fielding.

‘But the flowers…’

‘I had them sent by the florist, she asks me every birthday, Christmas and Easter to make sure she has fresh ones on her grave.’

‘I don’t understand…she asks you? Where is she?’

‘Look this is not easy for me; I didn’t even know she had a sister, to learn now that she has a twin well…’

‘She didn’t tell you about me? Did she tell you anything about the Parker family?’

‘Parker? Her name’s Rebecca Loman, that’s all she told me.

Rachel was trying hard not to show just how upset she was, she’d waited thirteen years to find her sister. She had to know the truth.

‘Where is she? I need to see her. I’ve just got to…’

‘You don’t know?’

‘Know. Know what? How could I? I’ve only been in New York three months and as I said I haven’t seen her for such a long time.’

‘She’s in an institution Rachel. She’s been in and out for years. When we first met things were fine. She told me about her mother’s death and hinted at some bad stuff that went on but that was all. About five years ago she started to have real problems, she got messed up with drugs and alcohol and…’ It was obvious that Fielding had been through a lot with Rebecca and the sadness was clear to see in his eyes. ‘I helped her through it and she went into rehab time after time but…’

‘Where is she Mr. Fielding? I appreciate what you’ve done and it must have been very difficult for you but she’s my sister I need to see her.’

‘She’s in the
Claremont Center over in Queens. I visit once a month and she comes home for the holidays but…I don’t know if she’ll ever…you know, get better.’

‘Thank you Mr. Fielding.’ Rachel turned to walk away back to her car. Fielding called after her.

‘What are you going to do?’

‘I told you, I’m her sister, I need to see her. After that I’ll make arrangements to have her cared for, not in some institution.’

Fielding stood against the open door. The dog started barking again. Rachel got into the limousine and it drove away with Fielding staring after it until it was of out sight. 

 

 

Chapter 23

 

 

‘We should get over to Mrs. Randall’s buddy. Sure you don’t mind driving?’ said Stone.

‘No sweat mate, sides it’s hardly a chore driving this beauty.’ Mac held up his hand gesturing to emphasize that driving the Porsche was actually a pleasure.

As they left the precinct car park and headed for the Queensboro Bridge they drove in silence. They hadn’t noticed the four by four pull out of the car park and start to follow them. Mac was waiting for Stone to calm down after the spat with Ramirez and after about half an hour Mac spoke first.

‘What were you getting at back there mate, about Shadow, bringing him in ourselves?’

‘We’ve got to do something. Without that evidence bag Ramirez could still try to set me up. We need to get Shadow’s fingerprints. If we found out where his office was we could get in somehow and find something he’s touched, or better still a weapon or bullets, anything, and then force Ramirez to take us seriously.’

‘Break in you mean?’

‘If necessary yeah.’

‘First we’ve got to find out where his office is, that’s not going to be easy.’

‘I know someone who’ll know.’

‘Who? Stone you don’t mean…’

They exchanged a sideways glance, Mac’s was one of incredulity. Stone’s was one of desperation.

‘Surely if we knew where the stalker was or even had her number we’d turn her in in a heartbeat.’

‘First things first Mac, I’ve got to shake this murder charge. We’ll get them both before we leave this town I promise you. I owe it to Karla, Mrs. Randall and the Police Chief,’ he added.

 

They made good time through the mid morning Manhattan traffic, Stone and Mac found Mrs. Randall’s apartment on 76th St and as instructed they parked up in the underground private parking and took the elevator up to the penthouse suite. They first had to buzz her doorman who asked them to wait for him, he’d be down in a moment. The only way to access the penthouse suite was when escorted by the doorman who had a key to allow the elevator to reach the top floor. The apartment wasn’t even mentioned on the floor indicators or anywhere inside the car.

Sharp, the doorman duly arrived down at the parking level and he summoned Stone and Mac with a nod of his head into the elevator car. They rode up in silence to Mrs. Randall’s suite. From the evident athletic build and steely air of confidence it was plain to see that Sharp, who must have been six-four and around two hundred and fifty pounds, doubled as a bodyguard for Mrs. Randall. Sideways glances at the bulge on the right side of his jacket left them in no doubt that he took the job very seriously. Mac just about edged Sharp for height and breadth but his raised eyebrow let Stone know that even Mac would think twice about dancing around with him.

 

Moving stealthily a dark four by four entered the underground car park. Scarface circled around and located Stone’s Porsche and found a parking space a safe distance away, but still in his line of sight. He would sit and wait patiently until they reappeared.

The level indicator pinged as they reached the top floor. The elevator doors opened and Sharp ushered them into the main lobby and then led them down a short corridor, with plush carpeting and artwork adorning the walls, to the reception room where Mrs. Randall was sitting talking to Anthony Bloom.

‘Thank you Sharp,’ said Mrs. Randall as she stood up from her chair to greet Stone and Mac. Sharp stood by the door, doubtless never very far away from his charge.

‘Morning Ma’am, apologies if we’re a little late, we had to go into the precinct to see Finch about yesterday,’ said Stone.

Stone and Mac shook hands with Mrs. Randall and Bloom and sat down on single chairs facing them. Sharp took their overcoats and poured them both a coffee.

‘How’s your arm Brad? Not too painful I hope?’ asked Mrs. Randall.

Stone’s hand went automatically to his left arm and said ‘It was just a scratch, its fine Ma’am, thanks.’

‘And Mac did you get anything on your camera of the people who did it?’

Yes, a guy called Tariq at the precinct had this image enhancing stuff and we got some good shots of the assailants,’ said Mac.

‘It was the same guy, am I right?’ said Bloom.

Stone looked at Mac and there was an awkward silence for a second or two whilst they figured out whether to tell the truth or not.

‘Seems that way, y-yes,’ answered Stone.

‘Now gentlemen, down to business.’ The significance of Bloom’s question to Stone appeared to have passed by Mrs. Randall. She continued with the reason for asking Stone and Mac to see her. ‘From everything I’ve heard so far it looks like the police are dragging their feet in finding my husband’s killer. I know you know who it is Brad and it’s why I’ve asked you here today.’ Bloom looked at Stone and they exchanged a knowing glance, he decided to let Mrs. R control the situation. ‘I want you to bring the killer to justice. I don’t care how you do it, and I don’t care how much it costs, I won’t rest until I know he’s behind bars, or dead.’ The seriousness of her tone had risen until her final statement when she hit the arm of her chair with her hand showing her anger and frustration at losing her husband to a faceless killer.

Stone spoke first and was a little surprised at the responsibility Mrs. Randall was bestowing upon him and Mac, but he accepted the task, ‘Mrs. Randall, we know who killed your husband. He shot at me on the morning of the same day; I had to dive off my yacht to avoid being shot. He must have followed Guy to my house. It was over so quickly, he took off afterwards in his SUV, we couldn’t chase him but we saw him shoot your husband,’ said Stone.

‘He’s here in New York Ma’am, we’re sure of that. I brought a police document pouch from
Trinidad,’ started Mac. ‘It had enough evidence, including the gun, to convict him but as you know for some reason Senior Detective Ramirez is screwing around saying he hasn’t received it.’

‘That’s why I want you two to handle things for me. Bloom will give you assistance; just tell him what you need. So, will you do this for me?’ she asked.

‘Ma’am we don’t need your money. We have our own reasons for wanting this man caught. Personal reasons,’ said Stone.

‘Was she in the car?’ asked Bloom.

Mac shot a glance over to Stone knowing that Bloom was being mischievous but they had no idea why.

‘I’m not sure who you’re…’ began Stone.

‘Rachel. Rachel Parker?’ added Bloom.

Mrs. Randall had no idea what Bloom was talking about and Stone had no intention of bringing her name into things. It wasn’t necessary to sully the name of her husband now that he was dead, thought Stone.

‘Who is this Rachel Parker?’ asked Mrs. Randall.

‘The err… killer’s moll Mrs. Randall. She’s not important; the main thing is to get to the killer himself.’ Stone thought he’d deflected the situation well and looked sternly at Bloom as if to denounce his mentioning her name as scurrilous.

 

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