DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2) (8 page)

Chapter 16

Stone was at the hotel and had just shaved and showered away two days of journey and overnight jail cell when reception called his room to let him know that Mac had arrived. Mac’s room was on another floor and he left a message for Stone to meet him down in the bar in thirty minutes before heading off to the funeral.

They had a lot to talk about.

After a steaming hot shower Stone was glad that he’d packed some winter clothes before he left Trinidad. He also unpacked a suit and sent it down to the laundry to be freshened up and steam pressed. Thirty minutes later he met up with Mac as planned. Mac was already at the bar when Stone crossed the lobby he saw him and they both ordered a scotch to loosen up. Mac preferred to call it a ‘stiffener’.

Loose or stiff, either way they needed something to fortify them against the December chill.

‘Mac. Good to see you buddy, seems like the forces of evil have followed me here, can you believe it?’

‘Well there’s no prize for guessing who’s behind it all. She had her brother falsify the fax on the very day you were leaving so she must have known your movements
and
she has to have someone pulling strings here as well. It’s not over mate, not by a long way.’

‘Tell me about it,’ said Stone. ‘What did the Chief say?’

‘He was furious, he gave me all the evidence he had on Shadow and arranged for me to bring it up here, he couldn’t have been more helpful.’

‘Guy’s like Shadow always manage to keep their noses clean, they’re masters at it, he was probably wearing gloves, sides you don’t have a gun.’

‘Yes we do,’ said Mac with a wry smile.

‘What? How’d you get that?’

‘The Chief gave me an officer and we went up to the Royal, figured he’d had to have dropped it when he was making his escape in the roof space. We searched and searched and Kahn poked around and saw the gun under an AC duct.’

‘So can we put Shadow with the gun?’

‘We have a partial print on the gun and prints lifted from his hotel room. The chief explained that it’s probably not enough on its own, he sent up a request here in NY to get a set of prints for Loman, he’s sure to be on file, he said he’d call me when he had an answer.’

‘So what was all that about when you delivered the evidence bag?’

‘Dunno, Ramirez? Is that the guy? He must have it by now the desk sergeant said he had put it in his desk drawer where he always leaves stuff for him.’

‘I was with the other cop, Finch - a straight up guy - when I called you, he said he had to be there in the precinct still. Ramirez was definitely trying to stitch me up, wouldn’t listen to a word I said. If it hadn’t been for Bloom I’d be sleeping in a cell again tonight. Guess I have Mrs. Randall to thank. He’s her lawyer. He ran rings round Ramirez.’

As Stone and Mac were catching up with each other they got a call from reception telling them that a car had been delivered for them out front.

‘Hmm, I forgot to tell you Mrs. Randall has arranged for us to use one of Guy’s old cars whilst we’re in NY, we’d better make a move anyway,’ said Stone.

They finished their drinks and they both left a twenty on the bar and made their way to the lobby. Stone entered the revolving door first followed by Mac and when they were both outside they scoured the forecourt looking for the car. They were looking for an old car, taking what Mrs. R had said literally. They were both checking out several saloons parked up across the other side of the forecourt, wondering which one it was. There were a couple of Chevrolets, an older Lincoln, which had seen a few miles for sure, and a Ford, which was a newer model, and looked acceptable, thought Stone. A doorman walked to hand Stone a set of keys.

‘Mr. Stone?’

‘Yes, are they for me? Which one is it?’

‘I’m not sure Sir, I wasn’t out front when it was delivered, I was just asked to find you,’ said the doorman.

‘Okay thanks.’

Stone checked over the key ring for a nametag or a plate number but nothing, just a single short key stub, the new type that has a remote sensor to lock and unlock the car and even open the trunk. Mac saw him looking puzzled.

‘Zap it Brad.’

‘What?’

‘Press the unlock button and we’ll see which car it is when the lights flash.’

‘Oh yeah, see what you mean.’

Stone pressed the button. They heard two high pitched squeals and spun their heads around to see where it was coming from. It was none of the older saloons. The vehicle was somewhere over to the left.

‘Do it again Brad.’

He pressed the button again and then they saw where the sounds and the flashing orange lights were coming from. They did a double take and looked at each other.

‘Can’t be,’ said Stone.

‘Has to be mate, look at the plate 999GUY.’ Mac read it out.

They walked slowly over to a gleaming, dark blue 911 Porsche Carrera. Stone opened up the driver’s door, Mac opened the passenger door and they sat inside.

‘The man had taste,’ said Mac.

‘He sure did.’

Stone fired the car up and they headed off towards the funeral.

Chapter 17

As the black Lincoln with darkened out windows approached Jamaica Avenue. Shadow reminded Chang what to do when they reached the cemetery. His usual practice was to only ever enter somewhere when he was certain of a safe route out in case of any trouble. It was the same MO today, especially considering Shadow’s instruction to Chang.

‘First make sure you see a clear route out then when you fix sight on him, a clear sight, take him out. Okay?’

‘Yes boss,’ said Chang.

Shadow called Rachel as they turned into the street of her apartment, she answered and within minutes she was climbing into the back seat of the
Lincoln. Shadow’s mind flashed back to the first time she had sat in that very seat just a few short months ago. He could still remember seeing those eyes look at him through the rear view mirror and so they were again today.

‘What’s this all about girl?’

‘I needed a ride, that’s all.’

‘Bullshit, you could’ve taken your limousine.’

‘There’s gonna be some interesting people there. As well as Stone, there’s a rich lawyer, Mrs. Randall’s lawyer called Bloom, he was close to Guy. He could come in handy one day.’

‘How’s that?’ asked Shadow.

‘You still want your money don’t you? Don’t tell me you’ve given up. If anyone knows where it is he does. Sides, he’s got to be useful, he must know a way into Mrs. R’s accounts.’

Shadow was puzzled. A number of possibilities were running through his mind. Was Rachel setting a trap? The thought occurred to him that the police might be there, a recently unsolved murder, the funeral attended by the only witness. It was sounding a bit risky to Shadow. He pulled his gun from his shoulder holster and turned in his seat and aimed it straight at Rachel. She didn’t flinch. Chang took a sideways look and Shadow told him to keep driving.

‘Listen sister we’ve been here before, you screwed up last time and wasted nearly a month of my time and now you want me to believe you’re doing me a favor?’

‘I am trying to help you.’

‘Guilty conscience huh?’

‘Look, I know what you’re capable of Shadow; would I lead you into a trap? I’m not exactly a saint you know; don’t forget I’m still wanted also, especially by Stone.’

Shadow listened and it made sense but he couldn’t help thinking she had an ulterior motive.

‘You just want to see Stone don’t cha?’ he said.

Rachel didn’t answer.

Chang continued to drive, they crossed the
Queensboro  Bridge and there was silence for most of the rest of the way to the cemetery. Shadow put his gun away.

Mrs. Randall’s kindness had extended to her leaving a printed invitation to the funeral at Cypress Hills Cemetery on Jamaica Avenue in Brooklyn in the Porsche for Stone and Mac. The invitation was tastefully designed with a glossy black tri-fold brochure with gold embossed lettering. Inside was the running order of the service and burial, a memorial note from Guy’s wife, Mrs. Sandra Randall and there was a map with directions on the reverse.

Mac looked it over.

‘What time is it now Brad?’

Stone checked his watch and the digital clock on the dashboard, ‘It’s
four seventeen,’ he answered.

‘We’re a touch late Brad, if we push it a bit,’ Mac looked around and saw that they had just turned onto Jamaica Avenue and figured they had a couple of miles to go, ‘we should catch the tail end of the service, if we’re lucky. We’ll have to sneak in.’

Five minutes later they entered the cemetery’s south gate and followed the green route towards the Cypress Hills Abbey. Stone parked the Porsche at the end of a long line of shiny Limos. At the head of the line was the hearse and huddled around outside were the pallbearers and limo drivers smoking and chatting, the smoke and the mist from their cold breaths were rising into the air. It was a clear, blue-sky day yet the temperature was barely above freezing. A cemetery in winter, with the spiky, leafless trees and the colorless flower borders, contrasts starkly with the same scene in summertime. At least a funeral in summer would be marginally more cheerful, thought Stone, with top-heavy trees and bristling flower borders accompanied by birdsong and butterflies hovering to cheer the soul.

Memo to self, December was the wrong time of the year to die,
Stone decided.

The heavy gnarled doors of the white stone Abbey building with its gothic window were closed. As Stone and Mac approached and climbed the stone steps to the entrance they could hear the church organ playing and the assembled people singing a hymn. Stone gingerly opened the door, the music and sound of the voices grew louder and after a moment to allow his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the main hall, he could see a handful of people sitting on each side of the aisle. Stone and Mac crept forward as quietly as they could and sat on the right side of the aisle, on the same side as Sandra Randall who was on the front row. He could see Anthony Bloom at her side and just behind them he could see what must have been Mrs. Randall’s sisters and family.

They both picked up a hymnbook each from the oak shelf on the back of the seat in front of them and began to mouth some words to the hymn being sung. They had no idea what they were singing along to. Stone didn’t expect to recognize anyone else, there was no reason that he should, but then he saw a familiar face turn in his direction. Detective finch was sitting on the other side of the aisle five rows in front of them. Stone leaned across to Mac and whispered as loudly as he could that the Detective he’d told him about was also at the funeral. It was pretty obvious, thought Stone that he had been told to keep an eye on their number one murder suspect.

Well Ramirez’s number one suspect that was for sure.

The Communion Hymn came to an end and the Priest spoke the Words of Remembrance and a Eulogy to Guy Randall. He mentioned Guy Randall’s family and his wife, Mrs. Randall, and afterwards he spoke the Concluding Rites. There was a final hymn and the Priest, Father Michael O’Hanlon, invited the family to make their way to Guy’s final resting place.

Everyone stood up and waited patiently for the family members, led off by Mrs. Randall, to proceed out of the Abbey. When Mrs. Randall passed by the row where Stone and Mac were standing she paused briefly, smiled, shook their hands and thanked them for being there. ‘It means a lot to me, thank you so much,’ she said.

Stone waited until the Abbey was almost empty. The final person to walk out just in front of them was detective Finch. Stone caught up with him outside and introduced Mac to him.

‘This is Mac, my business partner.’ They both shook hands.  ‘He brought the murder weapon, bullets, a ballistics report and finger print evidence with him today and delivered them to the precinct.’

Stone’s manner was a no-nonsense statement of facts. He also knew that Finch was not the one to be converted and hoped that he would rectify the situation on his return to the station.

‘Look Stone, I believe you, I’m carrying out orders, I’m not in charge of the investigation, I’m just the supporting officer, but I’ll find the bag and …’

‘The guy you need is called Chad Loman, we both saw him shoot Randall. He’s back here in New York somewhere. I didn’t tell Ramirez, he would have just brushed it aside. There’s got to be prints on the guy somewhere on file, he’s a gangster. I know it’s difficult for you but use the information at the right time okay?’

‘Okay. Chad Loman you say?’

‘Yeah, he’s a black guy, about six-three, heavy built with shades welded to his face.’

‘Okay I’ll see what I can do.’

Chapter 18

The pallbearers waited for all of the limousines to fill up and move out so they could collect the coffin and transport it to the plot, which was just a few hundred yards away, ready for the final service.

The grave was on a beautiful, grassy slope, only yards from the main road through the cemetery. The area around the grave was covered by a ten-foot high, pitched, white tent with open sides, which would afford the mourners protection should there be inclement weather. The mourners were gathering around under the tent, nestled between five, tall, strong, maple trees standing guard at Guy’s resting place. The graveside was decked out with a non-slip timber platform upon which were a dozen or so chairs for the mourners to sit.  The Priest stood at the head talking to one of Mrs. Randall’s sisters who looked strikingly similar to her, albeit perhaps a few years younger.

Stone stood on the same side of the grave as Mrs. Randall and Mac stood just behind Stone, standing directly under one of the maple trees.

Across from Stone was a young woman, tall, young and well dressed. She was wearing sunglasses and she was maybe twenty-three or twenty-five, no more, thought Stone. Mrs. Randall saw Stone looking at the young woman and she leaned across to talk to him.

‘That’s Jennifer Madison,’ she whispered. ‘Guy’s personal assistant, she was so upset to hear how he died. She had a roommate, Rachel, I think that was her name, I never saw her but I was half expecting to see her, to support her I guess.’

Stone’s mind was spiraling at the mention of her name. No, there’s no way she’d be here, he thought, and he couldn’t possibly tell Mrs. Randall why, or anything else about her for that matter.

Everyone was now assembled around the grave, the Priest was standing in silence and their attention was caught by the arrival of the hearse. The vehicle was moving slowly and reverentially down the hill towards the graveside and came to a stop at the head of the line. The head pall bearer alighted from the car and put on his hat followed by the six pallbearers who did the same and moved to the back of the vehicle. They carefully, one hand at a time, removed the coffin until it was being held at waist height by the three bearers on each side. There was an inaudible instruction from the headman and in unison the bearers lifted the coffin until it was at shoulder level. There was another signal and with a deft turn of their feet the bearers placed a shoulder swiftly but firmly under the coffin. So still and level remained the coffin, that the wreaths of flowers and floral tributes laid on top, didn’t move an inch. Upon the final signal the pallbearers commenced walking the short distance across the manicured lawns to the grave.

Not one of the mourners assembled made a murmur, they watched in silence and respect for the deceased and for Mrs. Randall. Again, with military precision and care the bearers lowered the coffin onto the straps connected to the brass supports. They stood upright to attention, bowed their heads and withdrew to the hearse. Their job was complete.

Priest Michael O’Hanlon opened his bible and began the Canticle of Luke 1:68-79

Réquiem æternam dona ei, Dómine. (Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord.)…

Stone could see Mrs. Randall dabbing a tissue to the corner of her eyes and her sisters stood either side of her, supporting her, locking their arms around hers. The weather, although a cool December day, had been kind, the sky was blue and there was very little wind. A crisp dry day was the best they could hope for at the onset of a New York winter and Stone was looking around admiring the scenery, such as it was with skeletal trees and naked borders, when the sight of a black 90’s series Lincoln Town car appeared over the brow of the hill.

Stone leaned over to Mrs. Randall and quietly asked, ‘Are you expecting anyone else today?’

‘No, I don’t recognize the car,’ she said. 

Stone turned to look back at Mac, he’d already seen the car and he was opening up his Nikon camera, which he seldom went anywhere without. He stepped back a pace or two so he was shielded by the maple tree.

‘Look,’ said Rachel. ‘They’re all there around the grave. I can see him.’

‘See who? As if I didn’t know.’ Shadow nudged Chang’s arm but said nothing. He didn’t need to. Chang had already spotted their pray. He continued a little further, a little closer to where the mourners were stood, until he could see the person clearly. He lowered his side window down, just a few inches. That was all he needed.

Mac began to follow the car as it advanced, through the lens of the Nikon, he had a zoom attachment and was adjusting the focus when he saw the driver’s window lower down. He became a little concerned, ‘Brad?’

‘Yeah, I see it,’ he replied.

With one eye on the service and one eye trained on the car approaching silently down the hill, Stone stayed still so as not to alarm Mrs. Randall or the other mourners. He and Mac were now on full alert.

The car grew closer and closer and was now no more than thirty yards from the gathering.

‘You see him?’ asked Shadow.

‘Yes boss.’

‘See who?’ asked Rachel.

‘No one, sit back girl,’ ordered Shadow.

Mac, from the cover of the tree, flashed away taking numerous pictures of the car. He could not make out anyone inside, the dark windows and interior made it impossible, even on a bright day. As he looked through the viewfinder he thought he saw something poking out from the gap above the glass. It was only a millisecond before he realized exactly what it was and took his head away to shout. ‘B-r-a-d.’

Rachel couldn’t believe her eyes; she saw the barrel of Chang’s gun at the same time and looked across to the obvious target. She was almost too shocked to speak and simultaneously shouted out to Shadow and reached forward towards Chang’s arm, ‘S-h-a-d-o-w, what’s he d-o-i-n-g?

The shot rang out at the very second she reached and pushed his arm.

Stone was hit. He had had no time to take cover, it had been too far way for him to make out the gun, he simply reacted to Mac’s warning shout. It all happened so quickly and the shot took him by surprise. He fell to his knees grabbing his left arm.

Everyone, including the Priest, ducked to the floor in shock at the sound of gunfire and Finch instinctively drew his gun and crouched down taking aim at the car.

Chang floored the
Lincoln and Shadow yelled, ‘Let’s get out of here, fast.’ He turned to Rachel and scolded her, she was fuming, angry that Shadow could do such a thing, she had only intended for them to check out the scene. Before Shadow could say anything she let loose at him. ‘Why the hell did he try to shoot Stone?’ Initially, Shadow was quiet.

Mac scurried around the other side of the tree to catch the car as it sped away trying to get a shot of the number plate. After it had disappeared from view he turned back towards Stone to see how he was.

Jennifer had bravely run around to help Stone and knelt down beside him to see what she could do. Bloom brought a chair over for Stone to sit on.

‘Hey, keep still,’ said Jennifer. She could see blood seeping through his jacket sleeve and the tear where the bullet had entered and feared the worst.

‘I’m okay, I’m okay, thanks, ouch,’ said Stone. By now Mac was crouching down also and was relieved to see that the shot had missed his body.

Jennifer eased off the sleeve and took out her handkerchief and pressed it against the wound, ‘You are lucky, it’s just a flesh wound, we need to get it patched up.’

‘Thanks, Jennifer? I’ll fix it up back at the hotel.’

‘A foot to the left and…’

‘Yeah, I get the picture. Mac, did you see who it was?’

‘No, it was too dark. Just saw the gun when it was poking out. I’ve a good idea though,’ said Mac.

‘So have I, I don’t need three guesses.’

‘Is it the guys that killed Guy? Is it?’ asked Jennifer.

‘Err… we can’t say for sure but…’

‘It is, isn’t it?’ she insisted.

Stone looked at Mac, he didn’t really know what to say, they didn’t know how much she knew. She had obviously been close to Guy, in a work capacity, and telling her about the past connection to the gangsters in the car wouldn’t help, he thought.

Jennifer tied the cloth around Stone’s wound and he carefully replaced his jacket against the cold and stood up. He apologized to Mrs. Randall and told them to carry on with the service. 

Finch had been quiet since the shooting and put his gun back in his shoulder holster, and walked across to see how Stone was.

‘Perhaps you’ll believe me now that the killer is here in New York, who else you think would take a pop at me?’ said Stone to Finch.

‘I’ll follow up on it Stone, you’d better come in and we’ll make out a report. Mac did you get anything?’

‘I’ll need to get the shots printed up to see what we have.’

‘We have a guy that can work on them, Tariq Karimi, he’s a wizard, he’s got all the gizmos, bring them in in the morning okay, or send them to me,’ said Finch.

Mac nodded.

Stone stood up and went over to Mrs. Randall and her sisters to apologize that he and Mac were leaving for the hotel.

‘I was hoping you’d come to the wake this evening but I understand, please come in the morning Brad, will you? I’ve got something important to ask you.’

‘Sure Mrs. Randall, and thanks for the car, it really wasn’t necessary.’ Stone kissed her on the cheek and turned to go, Mac followed and after a few yards Stone looked around and called out to Jennifer who was standing by Mrs. Randall. 

‘Thank you for your help Jennifer.’

Jennifer smiled and said, ‘It was nothing.’

Mac drove them back to the hotel.