Free DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2) by Gregory Stenson

to me later.’ Maloof stood up and thumbed the call end button. He scrolled down his phone’s contact list to find the number he wanted. He was fuming at the news; he was convinced that Stone was as good as dead, locked away for a very long time. He needed answers.
    The number rang out, the recipient saw straight away who the caller was and slammed his fist into his desk. He stood up, he couldn’t take the call in the precinct, he stepped towards the rear fire door, pushed the panic bar, and the door sprang open. He waited ‘til he was clear of the building before he answered. He placed the phone to his ear and looked up at the precinct windows on the ground and the first floor to make sure he wasn’t being noticed.
    ‘Mr. Maloof. How you doing?’
    ‘Don’t Mr. Maloof me Ramirez, what the hell just happened? You’ve lost our man.’
    Maloof was at Rachel’s Central Park apartment, he hadn’t spotted that Rachel was passing through the hall behind him. When she heard Ramirez’s name mentioned she stopped and listened in to the call.
    ‘I was blindsided by this fancy lawyer, Bloom something or other, he tore us apart for lack of evidence, there was nothing I could do. We’ll get him Mr. Maloof, I assure you, you…you just leave it to me, this is just a temporary setback.’
    ‘Ramirez, I’m paying you to make sure Stone is put away, you said you had it under control and I get a report that he’s walked free. What was the lawyer’s name again?’ Maloof listened to Ramirez and Rachel was listening to him. ‘Anthony Bloom you say.’ Rachel said the name over and over to herself. She’d heard the name before she was sure. ‘I want results Ramirez, there are other options, I’m quite sure you understand me.’
    ‘That…that won’t be necessary Mr. Maloof, give me twenty-four hours, I’ll fix Stone. They’ll be no need to …’
    ‘I was talking about you Mr. Ramirez.’
    The line went dead. Maloof threw his cell phone on to the desk in disgust. Ramirez started to sweat. It was thirty-five degrees, a cloudy, wind-biting afternoon but Ramirez was sweating. He fumbled around in his pockets for a matchstick.
    He called Finch.
    ‘Sir, this is Detective Finch.’ In the split second between answering his phone and speaking Finch realized that he hadn’t told Ramirez what he was doing and who he was with.
    ‘Where are you Detective?’
    ‘Well I’m close to Ridgewood on my way to McCarren Park.’
    Finch looked sideways and wondered whether Stone could hear the conversation, he had to be smart.
    ‘Finch, I want you all over Stone like a rash. On his back twenty four seven, you hear me? If he so much blows his nose I want forensics on it, you got it?’
    ‘Yeah, yes Sir. Got it.’
    With that answer Ramirez snapped his cell phone shut and fumbled again for a matchstick. He gave up and went back inside the precinct.
    Finch put his phone back inside his breast pocket and made small talk with Stone.
    ‘Mr. Stone? I’m sure it will all figure itself out, sorry for any inconvenience, we’re nearly at your hotel Sir.’
    ‘If it wasn’t for Bloom, Ramirez would have railroaded me. I’d still be sitting in one of your cells. I would have missed the funeral.’
    ‘Yes Sir, though I’m sure he would have seen sense, given the lack of evidence and all. Say where is the funeral taking place?’ Finch was fishing, he had orders to stay on Stones tail.
    ‘What? Oh it’s over in Cypress Hills, we just passed it. Starts at 4 p.m. Hope Mac makes it in time.’
    ‘Mac?’
    ‘My partner, he should have arrived from Trinidad today, in fact he should have taken the evidence that will put the real killer of Guy Randall behind bars to the precinct. He won’t even know I’ve been released, I’d better call him.’
    Stone realized that he had his carryon bag now and fished inside for his cell phone. He found it and switched it on. There wasn’t much battery left on it, just enough he thought to call Mac to see