“She’s doing great. Look at her.”
Cory had seen it before; Linda was a wreck but pulled it together better than he did when the kids needed her. It reinforced his belief that there was nothing like a mother. They were filled with love and patience and were selfless when it came to their children.
“What did they do to me?”
“You’re going to be fine.”
“But, but what happened?”
“Don’t worry about that. Just get better so we can go home.”
“Where’s Tommy?”
“He’s with Mrs. Murphy. If we would’ve known you were doing so well, we would have brought him along.”
Ava’s eyes teared up. “I miss him.”
“He was worried about you.”
“I can’t wait to see him.”
“We’ll get him here later. You need to rest.”
“No. I’m fine. I want to know what they did to me. Why isn’t anyone telling me what happened?”
Cory looked at Linda and said, “Okay. But it sounds worse than it is.”
“Tell me.”
He told her they’d kidnapped her and taken part of her liver. Ava placed both hands on her abdomen. “Oh my God. I’m gonna die.”
“You’ll be fine.”
Her eyes welled up. “Am I going to be disabled?”
“No, you’re going to make a full recovery.”
“You’re just saying that.”
“No. It’s true. Livers regenerate. The doctor said yours is growing back already.”
She searched his face. “Really? Is that true?”
“Of course it is. We wouldn’t lie about something like that.”
Ava’s ears flattened. “Why are these people doing this to us?”
“Don’t worry about that. Your job is to get better. The police are going to get these people. And even the FBI, they’re involved as well.”
“This is scary, Dad. It’s like a science fiction movie.”
“I know.”
“Can they get me in here?”
“Who are you talking about?”
“The people who kidnapped me.”
“No. Don’t worry.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes. There’s even a policeman outside your door.”
“Oh, good.”
Linda said, “You’re safe now. How about we brush your hair?”
There was a knock on the door. Standing in the doorway was Detective Grillo.
“How is she?”
“Good.”
“I know the timing seems bad, but the sooner we talk to her, the better our chances are.”
Cory said, “Ava, Detective Grillo wants to ask you some questions. Do you feel up to it, or should he come back?”
“I’m okay.” She propped herself up.
“Great.” He turned to Cory and lowered his voice. “She’s a minor and you’re entitled to stay, but it may be easier for her to talk alone.”
“Uh, okay. Look, honey. Mommy and me are going to get a cup of coffee. You want anything from the cafeteria?”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Okay, see you in a bit.”
Cory and Linda stepped into the hallway. Linda said, “She looks good, don’t you think?”
“Oh yeah. To tell you the truth, I didn’t know what to expect. I thought it was going to be a lot worse.”
“I know, but can you believe this? They took our daughter’s liver. What kind of animals are these people?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Grillo took a seat and pulled his Moleskine out. “Don’t feel any pressure to recall every detail. Just say whatever you remember about what happened.”
“Okay, but can those people get me again?”
“Don’t worry about that. You’ll never see them again.”
“You sure?”
“Cross my heart.” Grillo smiled. “You ready to tell me what you recall?”
She nodded. “I was on the way home, walking on Prospect Avenue. There’s a Walgreens there, and a little past it a van slowed down and pulled over.”
“What color?”
“White.”
“Did you notice the license plate?”
“No. I should’ve—”
“That’s fine. Go on.”
“I kept walking, but a lady said, ‘Excuse me.’ She was driving the van. I figured she was lost or something and went to the passenger window. She just started asking me if I knew where a bakery was, and out of the corner of my eye I saw someone. A man. He reached around my head and put a cloth over my face. It smelled gross and I got all dizzy. The next thing I remember was, like, being on the floor, or I think it was the floor, but I remember it felt cold.”
“So, the driver was a woman?”
“Yes.”
“And the person who used the cloth, he was a man?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Was there anybody else inside the van?”
She shrugged. “I really don’t know.”
“That’s okay. What do you remember next?”
“Waking up in a bed, but my eyes were covered, and I couldn’t move my hands.”
“They were tied? To a bed railing?”
“I’m pretty sure.”
“Okay, you’re in a bed and can’t see or move your hands. Where do you think this was?”
“A truck.”
“What makes you believe it was a truck?”
“Because it sounded like a truck or bus. And it moved around. Not all the time, but it was definitely moving every now and then.”
“Any idea where they might have gone to?”
She shook her head.
“Was anyone in the truck with you?”
“Yeah, at least two guys. One had a real deep voice. They were Chinese.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because they talked in Chinese.”
“Are you sure it wasn’t Japanese or—”
“No, it was Chinese. My friend Crystal, her parents were born in China, and the men in the truck talked the same way.”
“All right. What did these men do?”
“They didn’t want me to talk. The two times I did, they put me to sleep with drugs.”
“With a needle?”
“Yes.”
“How did they treat you?”
“They gave me food and water and made me get up, but I felt sick, like nauseous, you know. Most of the time, I was like, groggy.”
“Did you hear them speak to anyone in English besides you?”
“No, I don’t think so. I was, like, out of it. My stomach hurt. You know, I didn’t know what they did to me till my parents told me. I was, like, wondering why my side hurt so much.”
“Do you think the men were doctors?”
She shrugged. “I don’t think so, maybe, like, nurses or something.”
“Was there anyone else in the truck?”
“Oh yeah, there was a boy. I’m pretty sure it was a boy.”
“Any idea how old?”
“No.”
“Do you know his name?”
She shook her head. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine. You’re doing great. Let’s talk about the Sloatsburg rest area where they dropped you off. Tell me how you were released.”
Ava recounted being told to be quiet and how she was helped out of bed and off the truck to a picnic table in the rear of the lot.
“You said there were stairs and a door.”
“Yeah, I mean, I didn’t see them, but I went down them.”
“Did you feel like it was the back of the truck? You know how they have those two big doors at the rear?”
“Hm, I don’t think so, but I was so scared . . . I really don’t know.”
“That’s fine. Now, you said they left you there, threatening to come back if you said anything.”
“They wanted me to count to two hundred, but I heard the truck leaving, so I freed my hands and took off the
mask.”
“When you first took it off, did you see the truck leaving?’
“No. Where I was was in the back, to the right side, and the road kind of bends, so I couldn’t see it.”
“Any other vehicles? Maybe a car that could have been connected to them?”
“Not that I saw.”
“Then you walked to the access road, and that was where the pickup truck stopped for you?”
“Yes. He was such a nice man.”
“Okay. If you feel up to it, I’d like to go over this one more time.”
Cory waited outside his daughter’s room. When Grillo came out, he asked, “How did it go?”
“Okay.”
“Get anything useful?”
Grillo exhaled. “Tough to say. It looks like they’re Chinese, and she might have been in a truck of some kind.”
“A mobile operating room?”
“Maybe.”
“What else?”
“Not much more. She was out of it most of the time. I’m hoping she remembers more over the next day or two.”
“These bastards got to be hung.”
“I’m with you, but we have to catch them first.”
“They should have been nailed as soon as those Down Syndrome kids were taken. I don’t get why you guys can’t get them.”
“We will, it’ll just take us some more time. But we’ll nail ’em.”
As Grillo walked away, Cory steamed. How many more kids would get cut open before the authorities shut them down, if they even could?
Did another kid have to die before they did something? Cory remembered petitioning the traffic department to put a light at the intersection by their apartment. He hounded them for two years, but they did nothing until two kids were killed in an accident.
It was unacceptable, but so was putting his family in harm’s way. He had to do something. But what?
He pulled his phone out and called Mr. Black.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Shu scrolled through pictures of his family. He loved the picture of him sitting on his mother’s lap. He was about seven years old at the time.
His mother’s smile made his heart ache. Everyone commented on her beauty. He knew she could’ve been a movie star, but all that mattered to her was him. It went beyond the cultural reverence the Chinese have for firstborn males. It was a selfless love.
Her devotion to Shu never wavered, even when her kidneys were failing. He’d found out she’d missed dialysis twice to attend a school play and a science fair he’d participated in. Both times, she ended up hospitalized.
It pained him to know she’d suffered to support him. He swiped to another photo and winced. His mother’s blouse hung off her bony shoulders.
While bemoaning the primitive nature of transplants forty years ago, there was a knock on his office door.
Li said, “Sorry to disturb you.”
“Come in.”
Li took a seat. “Are you all right?”
Shu shook his head. “Just thinking about my mother.”
“Sorry. I remember how close you were growing up.”
“The good old days. So, how did it go?”
“Excellent. It went as planned. She was left at a rest area.”
“And her condition?”
“Excellent. Her vitals were strong, and she was moving well.”
“I understand she’s at Columbia.”
“Yes. Her parents and that detective, Grillo, were up there as well.”
“Any press?”
“None.”
“I expect that’ll put an end to his meddling.”
Li smiled. “It was an excellent plan.”
“We’ll see. Are our media friends ready to help if needed?”
“Yes.”
“Good. We’re going to be busy. When will the new RV be outfitted?”
“A shipment of equipment is arriving at JFK tonight. Dishi thinks he can have it installed in three days.”
“I’d like you to take a ride to New Jersey. Go to Freehold. They have a large population of illegals. Gauge the level of interest in that community.”
“Sounds like a good idea. Make the usual offers?”
“No. Offer forty thousand for a kidney or liver section.”
“That seems high.”
“Our backlog has grown. We’ll pass the extra cost onto the recipients.”
“Okay.”
“Don’t take anyone with you. You identify those interested and hand it off to Ming. She’ll take it from there.”
“You got it. I’ll let you know how it goes.”
Li got up to leave. Shu said, “Close the door behind you.”
Shu signed into Alibaba’s document cloud in China. He entered his password and punched in the two-step verification code he received on his cell.
He pulled up an encrypted spreadsheet and typed another password in. Shu scanned the waiting list of recipients. They’d added two kidney requests and a liver in the past eight days.
Shu unwrapped a slice of gum. Beijing was pressuring him to expand the operation. The demand was there, but supply, as well as surgeons, presented challenges.
The Party could twist arms to get doctors to participate, but Shu preferred surgeons who were passionate about doing transplants. He would have to talk to Gao. He had an idea to offer prized positions to surgeons who agreed to work with Shu’s American operation for two years.
It was a way to get quality surgeons that he hoped would work. Success in the field would lead to more satisfied customers and more lives saved.
The cycle would create a growth spurt, presenting a quality alternative to dying on a waiting list. Americans liked to espouse lofty ethical positions, but Shu believed his results would change minds.
Shu would no longer authorize harvesting organs from unwilling donors. It wasn’t the money that made him do it. People would have died without a transplant. He couldn’t allow that to happen.
The problem was it distracted from the larger goal. The way to prevent it was to build a roster of donors ready to donate when needed.
He hoped his outreach idea would provide a steady stream of healthy illegals willing to trade an organ for life-changing money.
Shu checked the time. Gao’s nephew was on the 1 p.m. Acela from Washington. He had to get to the safe deposit box at Chinatown Federal Bank before they closed.
He went to the closet and pulled out a leather valise. Shu set it on the desk and opened a drawer. He reached under and pried off the key taped to its bottom.
Shu headed to the parking lot. After he handed off the cash, he’d feign a stomachache. There was no way he was going to be trapped in a fancy whorehouse while the diplomat got his rocks off.
As Shu got into the back of his car, he had a thought. “Ling, stop at a Duane Reade or some other drug store. I need you to buy a bottle of Brioschi.”
“Okay, sir. No problem.”
Shu smiled. Every time he took the lemon-flavored effervescent, it made him burp for an hour. It’d be proof he wasn’t feeling well.
As they pulled out of the garage, Shu thought over the plan he’d begun forming last night. The Freehold excursion would test people’s willingness to participate, but the real goal was larger. Much larger. Logistically, it posed problems, but geographically it offered anonymity. Shu considered it the best idea he’d ever had.
A large pool of illegals was living in the shadows in the Southwest. Most were new arrivals with meager means. Shu’s team would have to screen their health, but the big challenge was getting them to the New York area.
Shu considered establishing a Southwestern outpost, but they hadn’t yet developed a pool of recipients. They had demand in the tri-state area, which meant they’d have to move the donors to the Northeast.
Stopped at a light on Sixty-First Street, Shu saw a tractor trailer off-loading onto the sidewalk. He gave a passing thought to outfitting a truck. He decided it would be too stressful for the donors, possibly af
fecting the quality of the organs harvested.
Flying was too risky. Papers were easy to get, but there were cameras everywhere. As the car lurched forward, Shu settled on sticking with RVs.
They were self-contained. No need to stop for food or the bathroom. He’d use a double team of drivers to speed the ride. It’d add costs, but those in need would pay.
Shu felt himself nodding. RVs made good mobile hospitals, and now they’d transport donors.
Chapter Twenty-Six
As the subway slowed to a stop, Cory realized he hadn’t been to Central Park since moving back to Brooklyn. It seemed crazy, as he’d spent hours walking Ava around the eight-hundred-acre park.
Cory exited the Seventy-Second Street station and crossed Central Park West. It was a small detour, but strolling through Strawberry Fields was his homage to John Lennon.
A handful of people were gathered around the mosaic tribute to “Imagine.” The Lennon composition had become a utopian anthem for many. He remembered watching home videos as Lennon shaped and recorded the tune.
The Beatle had no idea of the lasting effect the song would have on the Western world. He’d even discounted it, calling it a pop tune.
Cory hummed the tune as he headed to the lake. He felt the song was a force for good, a guiding principle for unity, and considered creating something with a similar message for children.
He crossed the Bow Bridge, vowing to take Tommy to the park. Maybe they’d build a model boat and sail it on the pond with the children’s statues in it.
Cory dodged a taxi while crossing East Drive and cut across a vast lawn. He saw Black sitting on a bench near a large statue.
The bronze sculpture of Alice, the Mad Hatter, and the White Rabbit had been Ava’s favorite. He wondered where she’d put the collection of Lewis Carroll books they’d accumulated.
Black stood and Cory followed him, walking deeper into the park. They circled around three men kicking a soccer ball back and forth.
Black said, “Everybody needs a place like this.”
“Yeah, it’s a great spot, so much to do here.”
“It’s got nothing to do with the physical. You’re missing it.”
“Missing what?”
“An inner sanctum. People don’t understand, they’re always looking for something external to distract them. We don’t need to come here or anywhere; we have space inside of us.”
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