DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2) (20 page)

Chapter 46

The bomb exploded, decimating the apartment above the delicatessen and blasting all the glass from the windows into the street below with an ear wrenching crashing sound that shook the ground around. Smoke and fire raged inside at the epicenter where Scarface had secreted a device inside a chair cushion. He detonated the bomb via his cell phone from the hotel room across road. The person that he saw walking around the room would not have survived.

He had to be dead.

Stone and Mac had just parked up the rental Taurus at the back of the building when the blast happened. Fragments and splinters showered the area and peppered the roof of the car. When the dust had settled Stone looked up and saw that the debris was radiating out from their upstairs apartment.

They instinctively jumped out of the car and ran to the kitchen door.

Scarface’s job was complete. He gathered his flask and garbage and stowed everything away in his backpack. He returned the table to the exact position it was in before he arrived, then he checked around the room one last time and locked the door behind him. He thought he’d been careful not to leave any evidence of his presence there or anything behind. 

People ran out of the shops next door to the delicatessen, they stood and stared in horror at the damage to the building and the fire and smoke rising into the air from the holes where the windows used to be. The hotel desk manager saw the whole thing. The hotel lobby looked onto the delicatessen and he gave himself a moment to overcome the shock of the explosion, took a deep breath and called 911.

The fire tender’s siren could be heard faintly in the distance after less than a minute, it was on its way already. The manager called around to make sure all his staff were okay and told them to check on the guests who were in the hotel at the time of the blast.

Scarface waited for an opportune time when the manager was busy on the phone and slipped out of the rear door that led to the guest car parking.

Mac got to the door first and ran through the kitchen and found Mrs. Zavatonni at the foot of the stairs leading up to their apartment. She appeared miraculously to be unharmed although she was coughing and crying and in some distress. When she saw Mac she collapsed into his arms.

‘He’s up there Mac,’

‘Who Mrs. Zavatonni? Who’s up there?’

‘Alfredo,’ she was crying so much she could hardly talk. ‘He went to fix the tap.’

Stone heard what she had said and felt guilty, he had had a word with Alfredo the day before about a leaking tap in the bathroom at the far side of the living room, otherwise he may never had been in the apartment.

‘Okay. Please wait outside for me Ms. Zavatonni and get some fresh air, I’ll get him, go... go now with Brad!!’

Stone guided her to the back door where she would be safe from the fire and smoke and then went after Mac to make sure he didn’t do anything stupid. It was too late, he was on adrenaline overdrive. He ran up the stairs, kicked in the door to the apartment and dropped to his knees to stay below the smoke line. Stone followed a few seconds later and stayed by the door and watched in case he needed help.

Mac took off his overcoat and draped it over his head and body like a cape and pulled his shirt up over his mouth to keep out the smoke. Scorched air hit the back of his throat and his eyes squinted trying to penetrate the searing heat. He scanned around the room and saw Alfredo lying face down on the carpet in the middle of the room.

He wasn’t moving.

The sirens grew louder and a tender reached the building and parked up in the center of the road. Fire fighters scrambled out of the vehicle like rats from a pipe and immediately began fixing up hoses and ladders.

‘I’ve got him Stone. Don’t know how he is yet.’

Mac crawled towards Alfredo, the fire was raging all around him, the drapes were ablaze and the furniture was almost completely burnt through.

Stone was lying in the doorway watching him, and the fire as it devoured the room.

Mac had to be quick.

He reached Alfredo’s legs and grabbed hold as tightly as he could. He began to pull him but he was heavy and it wasn’t easy against the thick carpet pile. Stone crawled up alongside Mac and grabbed one of Alfredo’s legs. Working together Alfredo’s body started to move. They could sense that he was in a bad way but hoped he was still alive. They had to give him every chance and pulled his body across the floor until they reached the doorway.

They could now safely stand up, Stone took Alfredo’s legs and Mac lifted him by the arms and they carried him downstairs to the hallway where they laid him gently down on the floor.

Mrs. Zavatonni saw her husband’s body lying motionless on the floor and wept bitterly. All she could think of was that she couldn't lose her husband, not now.

Stone went over to comfort her.

Mac put a finger to Alfredo’s throat and thought he could feel a pulse, albeit weak.

‘I think he’s still with us, just.’

Fire fighters broke down the front door to access the building and crossed the restaurant dining area and into the hall where Mac was standing over Alfredo. Mac apprised them of the situation saying there were no other people upstairs but said they needed an ambulance for Alfredo, and quick. The lead fireman radioed through to his captain out in the street and paramedics, who were awaiting instruction outside regarding any casualties, entered the building carrying a stretcher and their first aid bags.

The medics checked Alfredo’s vital signs and agreed with Mac that there was an outside chance that he was still alive. They gave him an injection of Epinephrine and placed an oxygen mask over his mouth to assist his breathing. There were no visible signs of wounds or broken bones but he may have concussion and other internal injuries from the blast, the medics said. Mrs. Zavatonni climbed into the back of the ambulance to accompany her husband to the hospital. She was clinging to the faint hoping and praying that he would survive.

Stone and Mac were persuaded to go for a checkup also and as the ambulance drove away they looked back through the rear door at the fire-fighters spraying water onto the roof and into the windows to put out the fire.

‘That was meant for us you know,’ said Stone, looking back at the building now fully ablaze.

The thought hadn’t occurred to Mac yet, he’d been so busy with the rescue. It hit him hard when he realized that one of them, or both, could be lying where Alfredo was right now.

‘My God, I guess so mate.’

Chapter 47

A specially chartered private plane, an eight-seater Learjet 45 XR, was being prepared for the flight from New York to the Bahamas. The pilot was taking the plane through the pre-flight check and technicians outside the plane were reading gauges, putting away re-fuelling lines and another was wheeling an external stairway over to the plane’s entrance doors.

A stretch limo, with Maloof’s five visiting businessmen from the
Middle East, was just arriving at the charter flight compound. The vehicle moved silently to a standstill within ten yards of the plane and two muscle bound drivers cum bodyguards, wearing shades and concealed hand weapons, alighted quickly and opened the side doors to let out the occupants.

Maloof himself had arrived early and was sitting in the back of his Esplanade and was just about to join him when he received a call from Abdul on his cell phone. He didn’t speak, he listened to Scarface telling him about the explosion that had ripped through the apartment above the Delicatessen. Maloof broke out into a broad smile, took a puff on his cigar and when Abdul had finished talking, congratulated him on a job well done.

Abdul Habib, driver, bodyguard and sometimes assassin, had just reported to his employer, Samir Maloof, that Brad Stone was dead.

The ambulance carrying Alfredo Zavatonni to the E.R. sped through the streets with its sirens wailing, the paramedics in the back tending to him were becoming increasingly concerned at his condition and they had asked the driver to step on it. Alfredo’s pulse was weak from the outset but now was slowing down even more. His blood pressure was low and the signs were pointing to there being internal bleeding probably from a major organ. The lead paramedic was relieved to see the gates of the hospital appear through the window and as soon and the driver pulled up under the entrance canopy, they almost kicked open the doors, snapped the gurney’s wheels down and raced into the emergency room with bits of kit bouncing up and down on the bed and tubes flapping around everywhere.

Somewhere in the middle of all that, Alfredo Zavatonni was fighting for his life.

News of the explosion had already reached the hospital and they were expecting several casualties to be brought in and an additional Doctor and two auxiliary nurses had been drafted in from the wards in readiness. The E.R. was not exceptionally busy yet the waiting room was full with the usual sliced fingers, bruised toes and kids with foreign bodies up their noses. 

Stone felt like a bit of a fraud sitting on the edge of an E.R. bed watching a nurse check Mac over for signs of smoke inhalation and burns and after checking his blood pressure, his vision and his hearing. His blood pressure was marginally higher than normal, but it was wholly attributable to the proximity of the pretty nurse. It was the closest and most intimate contact he’d had with a woman of the young female kind in weeks.

They were both declared fit and well, which was not a surprise to Mac, he’d been in similar situations even before breakfast when he was on active service, and they decided to hold on for news of Alfredo in the waiting room. No sooner had they sat down when the TV monitors around the room, which were showing Spongebob Squarepants cartoons, first went black, then a news report flashed up on the screens.

‘No, please don't let it be another...’ said Mac.

But it was.

The roving reporter with his microphone in hand, was standing before yet another set of school gates and in the background students could quite clearly be seen milling around. Some, mainly girls, were leaving the premises huddled together and it looked like they were crying. Parents could also be seen waiting by the entrance anxious to collect their children who, the reporter said, were being allowed home early due to the awful news that one of their pupils had been missing for several hours. It was feared that she too had also been abducted.

‘What’s that number three?’ asked Mac.

‘Shhh,’ said Stone. ‘I’m listening.’

‘This brings the total to three young girls now that have mysteriously gone missing in less than twenty four hours and the police have not commented but it is widely regarded that the abductions, alleged abductions, are related in some way. The thirteen year old Chinese girl, Jessica Wong, said to be an outstanding academic student, has not been answering her cell phone, which, her parents and friends say, she uses constantly, twenty-four-seven.

‘Sorry Mac, it’s just that they need to lock this situation down before he strikes again. I’m gonna call Eleanor.’

‘I know mate. If I could do something...’

Stone wandered over to the lobby and tried to call his ex-wife, he wanted to know that Laura was okay, and despite re-dialing several times, her cell went to voicemail each time.

He almost threw the phone at the wall in frustration.

Ramirez and Finch had been called into the bosses office and Vera Kowalski, his secretary, had brought them both coffee telling them that he’d be in at any moment, he’d apparently been called over to One Police Plaza at short notice this morning but was minutes away from getting back.

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.