The Body Thief (22 page)

Dear God, where will it all end…?

* * *

Rohan sifted through the files that covered
every available surface of his desk and had even spilled over to
Bryce’s. He’d received the files he’d requested from Samantha and
had examined each and every one of them closely. There was one
thing for certain: None of the people he’d interviewed had
exaggerated about the sudden rise in the number of organ donations
over the winter months.

From the beginning of June to the end of
August, there had been ninety-three deaths at the Sydney Harbour
Hospital that had resulted in organ donations. Fifty-nine of them
were female. There were a range of ages, but the majority of the
deceased were over the age of seventy-five. There was no doubt
about it. Winter was harsh on the elderly.

His mother was no exception.

Rohan had spoken to her only that morning
and was relieved that she sounded much better. The cough had almost
disappeared and she talked about going out for lunch. The health
crisis seemed to be over and he was glad. It was hard enough
working a difficult investigation without worrying over his mom’s
well being.

His thoughts drifted to Samantha and her mom
who was so much sicker than his. She’d confided in him the night
they’d made love that her mother was in desperate need of a kidney.
It saddened him to think the woman could die before a donor was
located and he understood Samantha’s frustration and fear. He sure
as hell wasn’t ready to lose a parent and he knew Sam’s mother was
all she had left.

She’d told him about her father and how he’d
died when she was barely twelve months old. With no memories of the
man who’d helped create her, she was forced to rely on photos and
stories shared by Alistair and her older sisters to gain any sense
of him at all. The thought that she might also lose her mother
prematurely was a lot for her to bear. She refused to even
contemplate the possibility, preferring to concentrate on the
present and make the most of her time with her mom.

Many people would have succumbed to despair.
Samantha knew better than most the odds of finding a match weren’t
in her mom’s favor. Rohan admired her positive attitude. It wasn’t
the only thing he admired. He was only just discovering what
wonders existed beneath her surface even though a decade earlier
they’d considered themselves good friends.

The affable girl he’d had fun hanging out
with every now and then had given him no indication of the
passionate, cheeky, loving woman she’d become. He only hoped their
very new and fragile relationship could stand the test of time and
the inevitable pressures it would come under.

With a sigh, he flicked through the notes
he’d made during the course of his examination of the records. Out
of the ninety-three donor cases, thirty-six of them had been sent
to the Glebe Morgue for autopsies. All but seven of those
thirty-six cases had the death certificate signed by Alistair
Wolfe.

On the surface, it wasn’t entirely
unexpected. The doctor was the head of the team, but when Rohan
looked closer and discovered that out of the thirty-one cases
bearing Alistair’s Wolfe’s signature, every one of them had the
organ donation authorization given by Richard Davis, a cold ball of
suspicion settled deep in his stomach and refused to go away.

The next step was to ascertain whether the
organ retrievals had occurred in accordance with each patient’s
consent. That duty was at the heart of the investigation. Of
itself, a surge in organ donations wasn’t cause for concern. In
fact, he was sure there were many people ecstatic over the figures.
They showed that the various private and government initiatives to
increase public awareness had been a huge success.

Those campaigns might very well be the true
reason, but Rohan’s gut was telling him there was more to it.
Besides, both Hannah and Samantha had come forward because they’d
felt something wasn’t right and they were in a good position to
know. For his sake and for Samantha’s, he hoped everything was
aboveboard. The alternative was unthinkable. If it turned out the
organ retrievals hadn’t been carried out in accordance with donors’
wishes, it would mean the doctors involved in the retrieval
process, and maybe even the deputy state coroner, were responsible
for something unspeakable.

The thought was beyond abhorrent and Rohan
refused to waste another moment in speculation. First, he’d compare
the consent forms they had with the reality of what had been
removed and go from there. As for the missing consent forms… He’d
deal with them later. With a firm course of action, he reached for
the phone and dialed the Max Grace Funeral Home. His call was
picked up on the fourth ring.

“Is that Hannah Langdon?” he asked when it
was answered by a young female.

“Yes, it is. May I help you?”

“It’s Detective Coleridge. You attended the
station with Samantha Wolfe and spoke to me about your concerns
regarding deceased persons showing signs of beyond the usual organ
donation.”

“Yes, of course. I remember you.”

“Good. I was wondering if you could help me.
I’ve obtained the records of everyone who died since the beginning
of June who consented to donate their organs. In order to know if
the organs were lawfully obtained, I need to compare the terms of
the consent forms with the state of the bodies. Are you able to
provide me with a list of names of the deceased you’ve had through
your office and the evidence you witnessed of the removal of
tissues?”

“I’m sorry, Detective. I won’t be able to
help you.”

Rohan frowned. “Why not?”

“We don’t keep those kinds of records. I
noticed the unusual number of bodies coming in with signs that
they’d been organ donors, but I didn’t make a note of who it was or
what was missing. And even if I did, it would only be a guess. I
don’t reopen the incisions. I can only speculate about what might
have been removed.”

Rohan’s shoulders slumped with
disappointment, but he wasn’t willing to concede defeat at that
point. “What about some of the other funeral homes? Would they keep
those kinds of records?”

“I wouldn’t think so,” she replied
doubtfully. “There’s no need. We prepare the body for its final
burial and at all times, we treat it with courtesy and respect.
It’s not necessary for us to open the body—and keeping notes
concerning who donated what just seems wrong. I think most
embalmers would feel that way.”

Rohan bit back a sigh. Thanking her for her
time, he ended the call. Flipping through the police file, he
located the phone numbers of three of the other funeral parlors and
called them one by one. After the third call, he hung up the phone,
defeated. It was just as Hannah had predicted. No one kept records
of who had donated organs and tissues and what had been taken. His
only hope was to compare the consents with the autopsy reports of
the thirty-six coronial cases that had been examined in the Glebe
Morgue.

Tugging his cell phone out of his pocket, he
speed-dialed Samantha and couldn’t help but smile when she picked
up right away.

“Hey, you,” she said and he could hear the
laughter in her voice. He hated that his request was going to sour
her mood.

“Hi, how are you?” he asked. “How’s your day
so far?”

“Not too bad. Busy. You know how it is.”

“Yeah, I sure do.”

“What time will you finish?”

“I’m not sure. I’m hoping to get out of here
by six. How about you?”

“If I’m lucky, I’ll get out of here by then.
Do you have any plans?” she asked.

“That depends,” he teased.

“On what?” she replied and the laughter was
back.

“On whether you’re up for another night of
passion.”

“Rohan!” she gasped. “I’m at work! Someone
might hear you!”

“What, do you have me on speaker?”

“No, of course not.” Her tone lowered. “But,
you know…”

“No, I don’t. Please, enlighten me.”

“Rohan!” she protested and he could almost
feel her embarrassment. It endeared her to him even more.

“Okay! Okay! I’ll behave; I promise.” He
laughed.

“Good. Now, was there a reason for your
call, or did you just want to say hello?”

Just like that, his mood sobered. “Actually,
it is partially work-related. I have a question: When you record
details of an autopsy, do you make a note of all of the organs
present and those that are missing?”

“Yes,” she answered warily, as if she wasn’t
quite sure where this was headed. “The reports should be in the
files I’ve given you.”

Rohan frowned. He’d been through each and
every file more than twice. He hadn’t seen any such reports. “They
don’t seem to be there.”

“They might still be waiting to be filed.
We’ve had some of our administration staff down sick on and off
this winter. It doesn’t take long for paperwork to pile up.”

Rohan nodded, accepting her explanation. “No
problem, but I need to get hold of the autopsy findings on the
thirty-six people who went through your facility over the winter
months. I need to compare what was found during the post mortem to
the actual consent forms.”

Samantha was quiet on the other end of the
phone and Rohan could understand her reticence. She was a smart
woman. She had to know it was almost certain her brother was
involved. The question was, whether the good doctor was merely
doing his job to a high degree of dedication, or whether something
illegal had occurred.

“I’ll get on it,” she murmured.

* * *

Sam sat beside her mom and did her best to
keep her mind off the fact they were once again in the Dialysis
Unit of the Sydney Harbour Hospital. Each hemodialysis session
lasted about four hours and Sam sat with her mother to keep her
company whenever she could.

It was difficult to sit there week after
week and pretend she wasn’t affected by the sight of her beautiful
mom getting weaker and frailer each time. The cloud of thick, wavy
black hair she used to sport had thinned and faded to a
salt-and-pepper gray. Her once-healthy skin now held a sickly
pallor and the lively personality was more often than not buried
beneath the burden of her chronic illness.

Sam wished for the thousandth time that
either she or one of her siblings had tested positive as a
compatible donor, but it hadn’t worked out that way. Enid Wolfe had
given birth to four children and despite the fact any one of them
would have willingly offered her a kidney, not one of them had been
a match. After years of suffering with kidney disease, Enid’s
kidney function was totally compromised and she was now forced to
rely on dialysis to keep her alive.

It had been nearly six years since her
kidney function had deteriorated to the extent dialysis was
necessary. The longer it went on, the more likely it was her
kidneys would call it quits altogether. Sam knew as well as anyone
that when that day came, her mom’s life would be as good as
over.

Squeezing her eyes shut, she made a
conscious effort to block out that depressing thought. Her mom was
the only parent she’d ever known. She couldn’t imagine life without
her. She didn’t
want
to imagine life without her.

There was still so much they had to share.
Sam hadn’t given up hope of getting married, having children,
celebrating birthdays, christenings; graduations. All the bits and
pieces of everyday life that many people, including Sam, used to
take for granted. She’d assumed her mom would be around to see Sam
live them and yet there was a real chance she wouldn’t.

Dammit, it wasn’t fair!

“How have you been, Sammie?”

Sam forced her lips into a smile and replied
in a light tone. “Good, Mom. Busy at work. The usual.” She tried
not to think of Rohan and his investigation.

“How’s Alistair? I haven’t seen him for a
week and he hasn’t called for ages.”

“I think he’s okay. I haven’t seen him for a
while, either. He’s really busy, too.”

“You all work too hard. Ava and Jessie are
the same. They sit with me when they can, but I know they both have
clients waiting while they’re here keeping me company. Jessie’s
phone never stops ringing. She has it switched to silent, of
course, but I still hear it vibrate.”

She grinned and Sam grinned back, pleased to
see her mom was in good spirits. It was hard enough for Sam to
contemplate what would happen if a donor kidney wasn’t found in
time. She couldn’t imagine how much harder it must be for her
mom.

“I’ll call Alistair and let him know that
you’re here. He might be able to get away for a little while, and
come down and say hello.”

“Is he at work today?”

“I’m not sure, but it’s worth a try. He
spends most of his waking hours here.” Sam pulled out her phone and
dialed his number. The call went through to his mailbox and she
left a brief message.

Enid shook her head. “Like I said, he works
too hard. He has a wife and two children who need some of his time,
too. He forgets that.” She turned to look at Sam. “How are you
doing on that front? Are there any possibilities on the horizon?
Have you met anyone special on that dating site?”

Heat swept across Sam’s cheeks. “Mom! I
can’t believe Alistair told you! I’m going to kill him!”

“Don’t be too hard on him, Sammie. He wasn’t
making fun of you and he didn’t mean to breach your confidence. I
think he thought it would cheer me up, knowing you were doing
something about finding a husband. You’re thirty-four, honey. Your
body’s clock is ticking. I hate to remind you, but time’s running
out if you want to have a family.”

Sam rolled her eyes. “What about Ava and
Jessie? They’re a year older than me and they haven’t managed to
produce a grandchild.”

“Yes, and I give the same talk to them,” her
mother smiled. “But at least they have boyfriends. That’s a
start.”