The matter was so sensitive that he had committed the guy’s number to memory and always deleted every communication from the log immediately afterwards. The precautions extended to both parties using aliases and code words that had been established to disguise dates, figures and details of the scheduled shipments of the goods.
Each call began with false name and a nondescript phrase before the dialogue commenced, then they would revert back to their real names.
Maloof made contact.
‘Frank its John. How is your mother?’
‘Hi Frank, she is well, but her back is giving her problems, thank you.’
When they were sure it was safe to talk they would revert to their real names.
‘Jamil, my cousins are arriving tonight. They need to get their goods by Friday.’
‘No problem, they are all boxed up and ready to ship, I hope they can afford them?’
‘They have more than enough don’t worry.’
‘You have the address for delivery?’
‘Yes Samir. I have it.’
‘Okay, well give my regards to your mother.’
‘Thank you.’
John’s real name was Jamil Bashir and he was an advisor to the Under Secretary for Arms Control and International security at the Department of State. He worked for the Defense Controls section and the Bureau of Arms Control.
The advisor worked at the main building on C Street and had a house near River Road, Potomac, just north of Washington. Bashir was born and educated in the U.S. to Lebanese parents and served in the military, initially as an officer but was soon recruited to the Intelligence Unit for Middle Eastern affairs due to his expertise and connections. It was during this time that he was introduced to Maloof at a U.S. Embassy dinner about one year ago. They were not able to meet in Washington, for obvious reasons, the city has countless C.C.T.V. and security cameras and the ability to have a private business meeting was impossible. Bashir’s profile had to remain spotless and any association perceived to be outside the remit of his government duties would land him in hot water, probably boiling.
Bashir and Maloof could arrange to see each other at any number of locations in the Middle East where they could be certain of privacy; however they still took precautions and traveled to the destinations separately, using false names and always stayed in different hotels.
Maloof, who had a circle of informants within the hierarchy of government in Washington, soon learnt of Bashir’s support for Middle Eastern matters and his ultimate allegiance to the people. Maloof intercepted him at a State dinner and since then they had conducted business together.
Maloof and Bashir had been finalizing an FMS (Foreign Military Sales) purchase of arms for a confidential Middle Eastern country for the past two months. It was the third such arrangement and with the conclusion of this shipment, a billion dollars will have changed hands between the representatives and the US Government.
No expense was spared to guarantee that the ‘cousins’ were completely satisfied with their stay. Maloof could not allow any minor hiccup and he attended to their requests meticulously. They would be accommodated in the finest hotel in New York, ferried everywhere they wanted to go by limousine and bestowed with lavish gifts and parties.
On this occasion the five businessmen had made unusual demands and although Maloof had considered their requirements to be deviant and not without some risk, he had conceded to them and had charged Rachel with responsibility for the arrangements. He also gave her a precise list of requirements related to an area of activity that she was quite familiar with. But nothing had prepared her that day in the Bahamas when she opened the envelope containing the details.
Maloof’s cut, for procuring the buyers and constantly journeying back and forth to secret international locations, was ten percent of the sale price. All expenses such as shipment, security, travel and entertainment came out of Maloof’s pocket. Despite this, and the fact that he was already a millionaire, he stood to be a very wealthy man at the end of the deal.
Maloof intended this third deal to be the last.
Chapter 34
Mac was waiting for Stone at Penn station at exactly 11.15 a.m. the next morning. The train was on time and as soon as Stone reached street level he saw Mac waiting for him in the Porsche.
Yesterday’s snowfall was several inches deep and lay on the ground at the side of the road like cake frosting with random patterns from footprints and bicycle tracks. The footpaths had been scraped clear and the snow had been scooped into mounds and looked like little white molehills. The mid morning temperature was still hovering around freezing with the threat of more snow, Mac loved the Porsche but rear wheel drives and snowy, icy conditions did not mix well.
Leaving Laura, having spent just one night after being away for months, was playing on Stone’s mind, it felt wrong but was unavoidable in the circumstances. He hated it even more than she did but as a father there were times when you couldn’t show it. Thoughts of mortality and family were brought to mind on more than one occasion during the weeks of terror that Laura could never ever know about. She was upset and barely talking to him when he left for the train and he could see the tears in her eyes as he looked back through the taxi window.
Mac could see the emotion on Stone’s face. He tried to lighten things up by telling him about the tracking device he found under the Porsche the evening before; he was still amused at the amateurish guy trying to follow him.
Stone wasn’t. It signaled that there was a new player on the scene and he sat quietly thinking the situation through.
‘We’re gonna have to change vehicles before we go to the new place.’ He delivered the first tactical change like he was on a mission. His tone was deadly serious. ‘All we really have to do is get the money safely back to Sandra Randall and find the apartment and we’re through. Should take two or three days tops.’
‘Aren’t you forgetting a few minor issues?’ said Mac.
‘What?’ Stone said without thinking.
‘If we leave town without sorting out Shadow and Rachel, we’ll be looking over our shoulders forevermore, every time we step foot in this town we’ll run the risk of being stalked or hunted down. You forgetting what happened at the funeral?’
Stone let out a big breath in frustration, ‘Yeah, I guess you're right. You’ve got his business address right? Okay, first thing tomorrow, after the returning the money, we pay him a visit.’
‘You think the new player has got anything to do with Ramirez? He seems pretty keen on framing you for Guy’s murder.’
‘Maybe. You’ve got a point, we should have a word with his boss about the evidence pouch and if he requires any substantiation he can call the Chief.’
‘Now we’re talking,’ said Mac.
‘Let’s put this vehicle in an underground park somewhere, and get a rental.’
‘What about getting some new cell phones so we always have contact with each other?’
‘It’s beginning to sound like old times.’
‘Yeah. If we can deal with snipers, artillery and the Iraqi army, we can deal with a bent cop, a two bit gangster and a seven stone woman.’
‘And this new player…’
‘The more I think about that it smells of Rachel, maybe she’s hooked with somebody and they’re working Ramirez.’
‘So, one, get a rental, two, get new phones, three, call Ramirez’s boss, four, get to the Deli, five, call Bloom.’
‘Sounds like a plan.’
‘We need to get tooled up,’ said Stone.
‘Where have I heard that before?’
‘Yeah well this time it’s serious.’
Mac was referring to the day they were sitting on the yacht in Trinidad just a few short weeks ago. Stone had just survived a shooting attempt on his life. The terror was mounting day by day; he was receiving daily death threats by email and incessant malicious phone calls to his site office. Every time he left his office or a restaurant he realized that a ki
ller could have been staking him out, hiding around a corner or sitting in a blacked out car. One day the head of security for the site, a guy called Mohammed, slapped a gun on Stone’s desk and asked him if he needed one. Stone declined at the time but several weeks later he wished he’d taken one. After the shooting at the yacht Stone realized it was time to get himself properly protected. He called Mohammed and arranged for an armed guard to shadow him and drive him around 24/7. The guard would drop him off at the site in the morning and another would pick him up at six and take him wherever he needed to go. In the evening the guard would set himself up on the terrace by the pool and patrol at regular intervals. The knowledge that there was someone there to respond to any attacks enabled Stone to relax a little and get a good night’s sleep.
Mac headed over to Atlantic Avenue in Brooklyn and dropped Stone out before he entered the underground parking area where they had decided to park up the Porsche for a few days. He paid for the parking in advance and got the elevator back to street level and walked across to the Hertz rental office and picked a non-descript Ford Taurus. He was shown a range of cars and the assistant offered him a larger model for a discount price, but when Mac saw the darkened out windows on the Taurus, his mind was made up. It was perfect for Stone and Mac to move stealthily around town without being noticed.
Stone was just only half a block away in a cell phone store and bought two new Motorola flip phone handsets with new sim cards and more importantly, fresh numbers that they would use exclusively to call each other.
As arranged they met back up at the Hertz office and made plans to look over the rooms at the Delicatessen.
Right next to the Hertz rental office was an Italian restaurant, they could both smell the aroma of pasta and sauces emanating from an exhaust grille. The temptation to eat was hard to resist. They exchanged glances, no words were necessary; there was a dearth of Italian cuisine in Trinidad. Stone said he could make the call to Ramirez’s boss over lunch. Mac didn’t need persuading and never needed an excuse to eat.
Stone and Mac settled into a window table and studied the menu, they had to keep alert so they didn’t order any wine to drink but instead took a bottle of San Pellegrino each. Stone had Lasagna and Mac ordered the biggest Quattro-Formaggi Pizza on the menu. Twenty minutes later both their plates were bare.
Mac said, ‘Okay so, steps one and two done. When are you gonna call Ramirez’s boss?’
‘Right now.’
There were other diners close by so Stone left the table and made the call from outside. Mac called a waiter over and sneakily scoffed a dessert of ‘Momma’s Apple pie and ice cream’, he could see Stone pacing around outside on the sidewalk and he managed to scoop the last mouthful in as he came back to the table.
‘How’d it go?’
‘They were already on to him’
‘Who was, why?’
‘I spoke to Finch first and he said Ramirez had been suspended. Seems Finch and the Duty Sergeant decided to make an internal report about the missing pouch, they didn’t want it to reflect badly on their careers if it turned up sometime later.’
‘Finch was taking a risk with Ramirez wasn’t he?’
‘Well I told you, he’s a straight up guy, and Grolnick, the Lieutenant, called the Chief in Trinidad about the fax, so he heard firsthand about the name change and everything. Ramirez is under investigation, they’ve taken his badge so Finch is now leading the case for Guy Randall’s killer.’
‘I can't say I’m surprised, there’s someone behind it though, something fishy about Ramirez, he’s bent on framing you for Guy’s murder.’
‘I’m off the hook, that’s the main thing.’
‘You ready to leave?’
‘Yeah,’ said Stone.
Mac paid the bill and they picked up the Taurus at the Hertz office next door. On the way back to check out of the hotel, Stone set up the new cell phones and punched in each other’s name and numbers into the speed dial and handed one to Mac.
After checkout Mac stowed their cases into the trunk, Stone decided that his arm needed a try out. Mac tossed him the keys to the rental. He took the wheel and drove them over to 11th St. to see the rooms at the delicatessen.
Chapter 35
Rachel had her limousine waiting outside the apartment and was scurrying around getting ready to leave when Rebecca came out of her bedroom and asked where she was going. She explained that she had to tend to some business across town and that she would be back late afternoon. Rachel had told her about her relationship with Maloof and that he wasn’t likely to show up unannounced. She told her said he was busy with a special deal he was putting together. Rebecca said she would be okay and watched her leave from the living room window.
Rebecca was pleased that she had some time alone, she went into Rachel’s bedroom and opened her closet and stood back to admire her clothes. Her sister had done well for herself, she thought, she had all the latest fashions and she remembered that she had said she could borrow ‘whatever she liked’, so she started to try on some of them.
In the institution Rebecca had lost all interest in herself, she had regressed into a downward spiral of self-denial and depression. Seeing Rachel appear out of the blue the day before had awakened something in her that had been dormant for years. She knew that with her help she could start afresh and felt positive about the future. Maybe she would even visit Mark and try to repair their relationship.
First though, she had some business to take care of and she selected a few typically ‘Rachel’ type outfits for the job. She stood back to admire herself in the mirror, she really was identical to her sister, she thought, but there was something not quite right, it was her hair.
She took a brush from Rachel’s dressing table and loosened her hair - which she always had tied back in a ponytail - and brushed it, letting it fall naturally to her shoulders. She was pleased with the result.
She now looked exactly like Rachel.
She took the outfits into her own bedroom and hung them in her closet and sat at her dressing table putting the final plans together in her mind. She had all she needed, an address, and a look, just like her sister.
Across town the workmen were packing away their materials and tools and the cleaning crew were vacuuming carpets, and women were making up the beds and hanging the drapes. The furniture had arrived in the morning and everything was falling into place. There was a king-size bed, a counter with a flat screen TV on top and a mini bar below, and a modern glass topped desk complete with a swivel chair. The bathroom had a shower, a wash basin and a WC, all with gold-plated fittings and the most luxurious toweling and toiletries.
Rachel was handed the last set of keys from the fifth suite and she was confident that Maloof would be pleased with the results. The rooms would do justice to any five star hotel, she thought, and they even had a view onto the river and a backdrop of the Manhattan skyline.
She decided to call Maloof up to tell him that they were ready.
‘Good,’ was all he said about the rooms, he was more concerned with the other arrangements. ‘You know what to do next, the guests are here already and they need the ‘goods’ by tomorrow afternoon at the latest.’
This was the part Rachel dreaded, though she knew there was no backing out now, ‘I’ll need a driver, someone to do the pick up business with me,’ said Rachel.
‘Khaled will be with you in the morning, he’s done this stuff before. You just tell him where and when.’
She said ‘Fine’ and Maloof ended the call.
Rachel had done her homework. She’d identified the targets and locations and figured out the precise timing for each of the collections. Maloof had provided intravenous drugs that were necessary to pull off such a risky and delicate operation.
It was time to execute the operation.
Chapter 36
Stone called ahead and spoke to Alfredo who told him to take the back street behind the delicatessen where there were parking spaces and a rear entran
ce to the property.
Alfredo Zavatonni had a permanent smile on his round and friendly face and welcomed Stone and Mac as they reached the kitchen door of the delicatessen. With a bulging apron and meaty forearms it looked like Alfredo ate just as much food as he cooked.
He showed them around the first floor apartment and introduced Stone and Mac to his wife, Estelle, who he had met and married in the US. The apartment was clean and comfortable and Mac was happy knowing that he was going to live above a restaurant. He would probably spend more time downstairs than upstairs. Alfrdo let them to settle in and no sooner had they moved in their suitcases it was time to leave to meet up with Bloom at the bank.
At four p.m. precisely Stone and Mac were waiting for Anthony Bloom outside the main doors of the Chase Bank on Jackson Avenue. Punctuality was something they both respected from their time in the military. They also ran their businesses the same way, keeping in mind that ‘time is money’. It was something that fancy Lawyers had yet to master; they preferred the maxim, ‘your time means my money’.
It was late afternoon and night was falling fast, in the short time that they stood waiting for Bloom the avenue traffic was now a sea of red and white car lights streaming past as the rush hour got under way.
After fifteen minutes Bloom sauntered around the corner carrying an attaché case and walked right past them and entered the bank. There was no smile, no pleasantries, no ‘Hi guys,’ in fact no expression at all, it was as if the whole business was a boring drain on his time and energy. He obviously wanted to get it over as quickly as possible.
Sitting on a leather chair in the waiting area in the bank holding a newspaper just below his eye level was a Chinese man who neither had an account at the bank nor could he read the newspaper. Chang Lau had a discreet earpiece and miniature microphone clipped inside his coat, through which he was in constant contact with Chad Loman, his boss. Loman, a.k.a. Shadow, was keeping the Lincoln’s engine running half a block down from the bank, ready for the signal to drive up when Chang gave the word.
DEAD MAN'S JUSTICE - A Place of Evil (Stone & McLeish Thriller Series of Stories Book 2) Page 13