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

where he was.
    The number rang and Mac picked up.
    ‘Hey buddy, where the hell are you?’
    ‘Just left precinct 113, where are you? You’re out obviously.’
    ‘Yeah, long story, I’ll fill you in when you get to the hotel. How’d you get on?’
    ‘I had to leave the pouch with the desk sergeant; he said the detective working the case was out of the office.’
    ‘Who, Ramirez? We’ve just left there, he must’ve been in.’ Stone looked at Finch for a sympathetic nod and Finch looked puzzled, he’d just spoken to him himself. ‘Suppose he’ll be there soon. Come over to the hotel we’ll talk then okay?’
    ‘Okay mate, I’ll grab a taxi and be right with you.’
     
    Ramirez had just arrived back at his desk; he wiped his brow with a handkerchief and noticed that a drawer was slightly open. He pulled it open and saw that someone had put an American Airline document pouch addressed to senior detective Eduardo Ramirez, Precinct #113 inside. He had an understanding with the desk sergeant that any deliveries that arrived for him would be put in his drawer, safely out of sight, as other officers would regularly sit at his desk when he was out on duty. He took it out and looked around to see who might notice. He scored it open under the table furtively and checked its contents. Just flicking through the papers he knew right away who it was from and what it contained. He caught sight of a ballistics report and a case number at the top of the page and just underneath it in the title block it read, DECEASED: Guy Randall (US Citizen) – Homicide.
    Ramirez checked around the office again, re-sealed the sticky flap and put the pouch inside his briefcase. If he had any chance of closing out Maloof’s orders the documents could never be logged in to the murder file.
    Ramirez had helped Maloof on a number of minor matters from parking fines to the not so minor, illegal gun possession. The degree of seriousness seemed to be increasing all the time, then again the money that he’d been paid, into a hastily arranged offshore account, was keeping pace with it. What started out as one favor to a rich and persuasive businessman was rapidly escalating to burying Stone for a murder he didn’t commit. Ramirez knew he was in over his head but saying ‘No’ to Maloof was impossible. When he was approached to take the Stone case he said he was too busy, snowed under on a serial killer case. It didn’t wash, on the way into the precinct one morning he was pulled over by Maloof’s heavies, their Chevy almost ran him off the road. They made sure he knew that they knew where he lived. They had photographs of his wife and daughter.
    Saying ‘No’ to Maloof was not an option.
     
    ‘Sir?’ Finch dropped Stone off at his hotel and thought he would check in with Ramirez to update him. He had a little time to kill before making his way over to the funeral. He called his cell phone.
    ‘Finch. Where are you now Detective?’
    ‘I’m driving around ‘til Guy Randall’s funeral starts in about an hour. I’ll hang around there to keep an eye on Stone.’
    ‘Good. I want to know where he is every minute of the day, we’ll need to pull him in again real soon, this isn’t over, I’ll outsmart that fancy lawyer Bloom.’
    ‘But Sir, we don’t have anything on Stone. How are we gonna…’
    ‘We will, you’ll see.’
    ‘Say Sir, did you get the pouch? The evidence bag? It’s been delivered to the precinct, do you have it?’
    ‘Pouch? Err..no I got nothing Finch.’
    Ramirez was lying to his partner, he needed time to think, he couldn’t log it in, if he did his chances of pinning the murder on Stone would be over.
     
    Rachel Parker waited for Maloof to leave the apartment, he didn’t say where he was going, he seldom did, at any time day or night his driver would come around for him and he’d be gone. She was curious as to why the manager of the Saudi Royal family’s property in New York would need to go out at all