A Child Shall Lead Them (A Joe Burgess Mystery, Book 6)

by Flora, Kate;

  He smiled at the phrase “corporeal alteration.” Then the smile faded. This case began with a corporeal alteration.

  “What?” Kyle said.

  “Corporeal alteration.”

  The faint smile came and went. “Not such a good thing in our business. I wonder if Dr. Valentine could have…” He stopped.

  They sat in silence. Burgess was running his to-do list in his head, knowing Kyle was doing the same. The sensation of time passing was almost physical.

  In a few minutes, which felt far longer, Dr. Morton reappeared, carrying a file and accompanied by a woman they assumed was his nurse.

  Burgess’s impressions of cosmetic surgery, mostly formed by scattered bits of TV, had led him to expect a glitzy office, big pictures of gorgeous men and women on the walls, and a staff that were walking advertisements for the product. The receptionist had been attractive, but the dragon, Dr. Morton, and now the woman with him, looked like everyday folks.

  Morton introduced the woman as Carole Grover. “Carole has been with me a long time.” The doctor hesitated. “Carole was not fond of Dr. Valentine.”

  “Which,” the woman said after shaking their hands, “is partly because I was not receptive to his suggestions about liposuction, Botox and facial fillers, and ‘just a small enhancement to make my body more balanced.’ This isn’t Hollywood, it’s Portland, and much of our work is for those unfortunate women who’ve had mastectomies.” She looked at Burgess and Kyle. “It helps to restore their self-esteem.”

  Burgess was sorry these people had gotten caught up in his case. He explained again why they were here and what they were looking for.

  “I remember that girl,” Carole said. “Such a sweet little thing. She tried to act like it was something she wanted but it was clear to me that she was being forced to get the surgery.” She shot a glance at Dr. Morton. “Pete was on vacation, so I couldn’t consult him, and Dr. Valentine was gung ho to do it. I did question him about it. About the appropriateness given the girl’s age. He told me he was the doctor and that was that.”

  She shrugged. A rather sad shrug. “It wasn’t my place to try and stop him. He was my boss and he was…” A quick glance at Morton. “He was such a bully. If I didn’t want to experience abuse and lectures, I had to keep my head down and say, ‘Yes, Doctor.’ I said it a lot.”

  “We’re interested in anything you can tell us, and anything the records show, about who arranged for her surgery. Who signed the permission forms, any billing or credit card information, what address or addresses were given. Physical descriptions, if possible.”

  Morton was thumbing through the files, looking increasingly irritated, as Carole told them what she could remember.

  “She came in with an older man. I assumed he was her father, but he didn’t act fatherly. That was when I started being suspicious. Well, I was suspicious from the start because the girl was too young. He was cold to her. Cold and cruel. It was clear she was afraid of him.”

  “Can you describe him?” Kyle asked.

  “There wasn’t anything distinctive about him,” she said slowly, trying to remember. “In his fifties. A biggish man. Not heavy, just big. Graying dark hair. He was well dressed. Almost flashy, if you know what I mean. Like his jacket was conservative enough but his shirt and tie were too bright.” She looked at Burgess and Kyle. “This might sound odd, but to me, he just looked mean.”

  Morton slapped the file down on his desk with a disgusted sound.

  “What?” Burgess said.

  “This is the sloppiest thing I’ve ever seen. There’s almost no information about the patient. There’s no permission form for performing this surgery on a person under eighteen.”

  “What information is there?” Burgess asked.

  Morton passed him the form. The patient’s name was Shelley Minor, and the address was the Dornan’s. Her age was given as eighteen, no doubt to get around the requirements of a parental or guardian consent form. No prior health history. No height, weight, blood pressure. Nothing.

  He looked at Morton. “What about the consent for billing? Any records pertaining to payment liability? Anything that shows how the procedure was paid for?”

  “We shall have to ask Mrs. Stevens about that.”

  Instead of using the phone or intercom, Morton left to find Mrs. Stevens.

  “He feels badly about this,” Carole said. “He’s a very nice man. If I may ask, why are you looking for information about this girl?”

  Burgess was surprised she didn’t know, but of course, Shelley’s name hadn’t been released to the press. “She’s been murdered,” he said.

  “And you’re using the serial numbers on her implants because—” She faltered. “Oh, dear me. No. That sweet girl is the one whose body was found out in Stroudwater Park?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “And she was found without…” Carole didn’t finish. She just sat staring at them, distress and shock making her pale. Then she said, “And you think this man, the man who brought her here, might have had something to do with it?”

  “We do.”

  Burgess got out the photo of Charlie Dornan. “Was this the man?”

  She studied the picture, then handed it back, shaking her head. “No. This man is too young and his hair is too light.”

  “We understand this was months ago, and you see a lot of patients and their families, but is there anything distinctive about him that you can remember?” Kyle asked. “Anything at all?”

  “Only one thing. And it’s such a small thing, I don’t see how…”

  “Tell us about it,” Burgess said, already wondering if he knew what was coming.

  “He had a pin on his lapel. Just a small pin, white enamel, with a red border and the number fifteen in red. I noticed it because he didn’t seem like the pin-wearing type. And because, while I may be no fashion plate, a red and white pin didn’t seem to go with his purple and yellow shirt and tie.”

  Thirty-Three

  Burgess made a mental note to come back with a photo of the pin they’d found at the crime scene. Then Morton was back with the dragon, and the dragon didn’t look happy. Indeed, if it was possible for a dragon to look abashed, this one did.

  “Well, I don’t see how any of this is going to help you,” she said, “but what our records show is that the procedure was paid for by a check. We deposited the check but there’s no further information in the file. No name. No address. No photocopy of the check.”

  She studied the file she’d brought with her. “These days, you know, we’ve started asking for license numbers when we take checks, and that information is supposed to be in this file. I’ve just skimmed through, and I can’t find it anywhere.”

  “What about phone numbers?” Kyle said. “Do you have any phone numbers for the girl or her family?”

  She looked through her papers again. “I do have a phone number,” she said. She read it and Burgess wrote it down. It didn’t sound like one of the numbers they’d gotten from Kit and DeSpain, so maybe it was a lead. But tracking down the second man, the mystery man, was not looking like an easy task.

  They thanked Dr. Morton, Carole, and the Dragon, and handed out cards. Then they headed for the elevators.

  Burgess had been hopeful, coming here. Hopeful, and ready to bully doctors willing to perform breast enhancement surgery on such a young girl. What he’d found was mostly a dead end. A decent doctor stuck with cleaning up a careless colleague’s mess. Maybe the phone number or the pin would lead somewhere. He was feeling discouraged. So discouraged that when Kyle said, “Shall we check on the girls?” he almost said no. He was waiting for his get up and go, his enthusiasm for the chase, or at least his drive to secure justice for victims to arrive. It seemed to be stalled somewhere.

  “Sure. We’re already here, and the translator is available,” he heard himself saying. “What I’d really like to know is how the Dornans got their hands on these girls.”

  “The Dornans or someone e
lse,” Kyle said. “We don’t know that the Dornans somehow got custody, and we did hear about those mysterious vans arriving. Maybe there are people who shuttle bunches of these girls around.”

  “But they have to come from somewhere,” Burgess said.

  “Guatemala. Beyond that, I’d say it will call for some serious detective work. Searching their files, bank records, all that. Talking to neighbors. Interviewing their employers,” Kyle said. “You have to wonder who hands five Guatemalan children over to anyone, where the girls came from, and who is supposed to be keeping track of them.”

  The elevator opened and they stepped in.

  “Maybe the girls know,” Burgess said.

  “Now that is a radical idea.”

  They weren’t alone in the elevator, so conversation ceased until they’d reached the lobby and headed for the wing where the girls were.

  “Do you need some time, Joe?” Kyle said. “A day off. An afternoon off?”

  “The rest of my life off?”

  “I’m not listening to that ‘I’m going to retire’ crap, Joe. What on earth would you do with yourself? You don’t have hobbies. You don’t play golf.”

  “I could learn.”

  “It would be bad for your knee,” Kyle said.

  “Paddle boarding,” Burgess said. “Fly fishing. Nature photography. I could sit on the beach and read novels.”

  Kyle made a face.

  Burgess’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He checked the number. Alana. “Gotta take this,” he said, growling “Burgess” into the phone.

  Instead of saying “hello” she laughed. “Hey, Copman. Someone’s in a great mood today.”

  “You got that right. What’s up? You got the solution to my case?”

  “I have an idea. It’s a long shot, but it might take you somewhere. Can we meet?”

  That was Alana. She would never just give him information. It had to be face to face, on her terms. She’d always been that way. It was part of the games she played. They played. He had to show respect. Reassure her that he didn’t look down on her because she’d once been a hooker. Prove he was willing to make time for her. She’d act all sexy and seductive, which, given that she was probably the sexiest woman he’d ever met, was something. He’d tell her to snap out of it. They’d get the dance out of the way and then they could talk. She did this even though she’d been to the house for dinner. Met Chris and the kids. Been treated like a fourth child. Chris said Alana was just looking for reassurance. Burgess thought she could be a pain in the ass.

  “Can you do four?” he said, with no idea what he’d really be doing at four.

  “Five,” she said, and named a place.

  “I’ll try. You know how things can change in the middle of a case.”

  “I’ve been in the middle of your case,” she said.

  “Well, stay out of trouble, okay, and I’ll see you at five.”

  “You bet, Copman.”

  There were four girls in the room now, making it very crowded. Although there were four beds in the room, only two of them were occupied. Isabella was tucked in beside her sister Sofia, clutching a large stuffed bear.

  Gabriela was with Magaly and there were coloring books and crayons spread out on the bed. Someone was making an effort with these girls.

  He and Kyle had entered carefully, not wanting to spook the girls, but the four welcomed them with smiles and a volley of Spanish. Even little Bella smiled. Cleaned and fed and reunited with her sister, she looked nothing like the terrified waif Burgess had carried out of that shed.

  Someone had braided her hair and tied red ribbons on the ends. When she saw them come in, she ducked her head shyly into her sister’s side, then picked it up to look at him and gave him a shy little wave. “Seguro,” she said. Then, with a child’s exuberant grin, she added, “Ice cream.”

  This, after what she’d been through? Burgess smiled and said, “Si, ice cream.”

  A moment later, the translator rushed in, apologizing for being late, even though she wasn’t, and greeting the girls with hugs and smiles. The way she lingered with Bella made Burgess wonder if she, like Chris, loved children and longed for one. Maybe he was reading too much into it. Maybe she was simply a warm-hearted person and Bella a needy, and adorable, little girl.

  Greetings over, she settled into a chair in the corner and said, “What do you need me to ask them?”

  Burgess had lots of questions, but first he asked, “Can they all have ice cream?”

  She nodded.

  “There’s at least one more man involved in this,” Burgess said, “and we have no idea who he is. We’re hoping the girls may have some information that will help us locate him. Before, you told us that all they would say about the man was that he wore colorful clothes. We’re also interested in the woman’s involvement. Marilyn Dornan.”

  Just as she had during their last visit, Clara Sanchez motioned them to join her outside in hall. She said something to the girls, probably reassuring them that she’d be back with ice cream, and led them to a small conference room. “I am sorry,” she said, “but I didn’t want to mention her name in front of the girls. They are reluctant to speak of her, but I can tell you that they are all terrified of her and say that she is very mean and beats them or has her husband beat them. She is also the one who uses the camera when they are…uh…assaulted.”

  Burgess looked at Kyle. Neither of them was surprised. He regretted that they hadn’t gotten to her sooner and done an interview.

  “I don’t know if you want to tell them this, but Marilyn Dornan is dead. Someone shot her last night.”

  Sanchez nodded. “I see. The paper said it was a murder-suicide. Is that true?”

  “We’re still working on that,” Kyle said quickly. They didn’t want to go down that rabbit hole right now. “But about this second man. Have you learned anything more than colorful clothes?”

  “He was mean to them. The blond man…is that Dornan?…he could be kind, but the other man was never kind.”

  “Again, a question you may not have asked or they may not know the answer to, but how did the girls come to be here?”

  “It is complicated,” she said. “They were sent by their parents to the border, to come to America and seek asylum because of the conditions at home. Magaly and Gabriela had an older brother who was killed because he would not join a gang, and that same gang said they would take revenge on his sisters also. There was a friend of the family who was coming north, and Magaly and Gabriela traveled with him until they reached the border. Then he told them they would have better luck on their own, and he left them. The U.S. government took them and they were in a shelter for immigrant children, but then one day, one of the workers there told them that a relative had been found in Maine, and they were being sent to live with that relative.”

  She looked at Burgess and shook her head in despair. “Without doing any checking or verification, the girls were sent here to live with a woman they didn’t know. She had a Hispanic name, Ana Solano. She was no relation. She posed as a relative to obtain custody, but they have no relatives in Maine. They were only with her for a few days. Then a man with a white van came and took them to the house where…the house where they were found. And then the blond man and the woman named Marilyn put them in that cage and the men started coming.” Her voice dropped. “They’re just children! What kind of men would…”

  She looked down at the floor. She was shaking.

  Kyle put a hand on her arm. “We’re sorry this happened to them and sorry that you get the hard job of telling their story.”

  “Our government,” she said. “Our own government gave these helpless children to people who sold them for sex. It makes me sick, Detectives. Physically sick.”

  She stopped studying the floor. “I am angry on their behalf. I am angry that the Dornans are dead, because they should have to answer for this. They should have to face these children in court before being locked up forever. But it isn’t just them. Othe
rs are responsible as well. The lazy bureaucrats who handed them over…”

  She stopped. “I’m sorry. I know my outrage isn’t helping.”

  “We don’t blame you,” Kyle said.

  Kyle seemed to want to take the lead on this and Burgess was happy to let him. It looked like he and the translator were forming a bond, and that would be helpful here.

  “What about the other three girls?” Kyle asked. “Did they come here in the same way?”

  “They did. They came to a different woman. Her name was Inez Lopez-Garcia. At least, that’s the name she used on the paperwork. Also no relation, though she claimed to be their aunt. I think these women were being paid to pose as relatives so the Dornans could get their hands on these children.”

  She looked at them, anguish on her face. “Who knows how many other children have been tricked into sexual slavery like these sweet girls? Or what happens to them. Where they go when a new batch of girls arrive.”

  “We will do what we can,” Kyle said, “but the federal government is not always very cooperative.”

  Burgess could hear the anger in his voice. Kyle was good at keeping emotion off his face, but someone who knew him could read it in his body and his voice. The rage that washed over Burgess from people willfully harming children could carry him when he was almost too weary to move. Kyle took it in a different way. As a father who had had to fight hard to get custody of his daughters, Kyle regarded parenting as a sacred trust. When people broke that trust, Kyle took it almost as a physical blow.

  Burgess hoped that these poor girls would be adequately served by an investigative team that couldn’t quite keep their emotions in check. But they were too far in to try and cobble together a B team now.

  “The Dornans and their partner, or partners, must have had some inside contacts to help them find these children,” he said.

  “That’s what I was thinking,” Clara Sanchez said.

  “Getting back to the second man,” Kyle said. “Even the smallest detail might help. Can you see if there is anything they heard or observed that might help us identify him?”