by Chris Taylor
“What about the ones where the consent form’s missing? There are several of them. Don’t you think that’s suspicious?”
“Of course, but until we speak with the next of kin and confirm they did or didn’t give consent we can’t know for sure; it’s anybody’s guess if and where the consent forms were mislaid. The surgeons could blame the porters who transported the bodies to the hospital morgue. The hospital could argue the forms were lost during the transportation to the Glebe Morgue. We have to be careful not to muddy the waters. A good defense lawyer could tear our case to pieces. We need to concentrate on the relatives and ask them what they gave consent for—if anything,” he added grimly.
“We need to understand the organ removal procedure, from start to finish,” Bryce added. “We need to know what happens from the time the consent is given and the patient is wheeled into the operating room with everything intact, to when they come out…less.”
“We’ll have to interview all the theater staff who were present during each organ retrieval, in particular the nursing staff. They often work in the background, unseen and unacknowledged by the surgeons. It’s possible some of them saw or know something that will confirm our suspicions.”
Bryce nodded and Rohan added, “I’ll call Deborah Healy and set up another meeting—this time without Doctor Alistair Wolfe. We need to make sure he’s unaware we’re onto him. If he’s involved, I don’t want him alerted too early. That could give him the opportunity to cover his tracks.”
“Do you think he’d approach the staff with a view to changing their stories?”
“Who knows? Don’t forget, we don’t know anything for certain at this stage.”
“My gut is telling me Wolfe’s our man.”
Pain and dread clenched Rohan’s gut tight at the thought of Samantha and her family. For a moment, he thought he might be sick. Swallowing back bile, he grimaced. “So is mine.”
“There’s something else,” Bryce said, his expression grave.
“What?”
“Based on the consent forms we’ve examined, we know that ninety-three people who were patients at the Sydney Harbour Hospital donated various organs and tissue since the beginning of winter. That’s a hell of a lot of transplants.”
Rohan stared at him and his heart began to pound. “You’re right and if we accept that the autopsy records and statements made by the various funeral parlor staff members are closer to the true number of transplants, it’s even greater.”
He sucked in a deep breath and tried to get control over the adrenaline that surged through him. He pushed back his chair and began to pace. “Deborah Healy told us several hospital transplant teams can be present at a retrieval, depending on the organs involved. We need to interview the staff at the other hospitals with transplant units so that we can compare the transplant rates over the past few months with the number of organs we know have been harvested. Let’s hope to God they match.”
Bryce stared at him grimly. “And if they don’t?”
Rohan slowly shook his head back and forth while icy dread poured into his gut. “Then this is far bigger than any of us ever imagined.”
* * *
Sam removed the last of the organs from the male body stretched out on the gurney and carried the steel tray to a nearby bench so she could begin her examination. She was relieved Edmund Rolf appeared to have all of his organs intact. She looked across at Phillip where he worked quickly on the body of an elderly woman who lay on the adjacent table. “You seem like you’re in a hurry, Phillip. What are you up to this afternoon?”
Phillip glanced up and gave her a quick grin. “It’s my daughter’s graduation from college. It’s not on until seven, but it’s being held in the Grand Ballroom at the Hilton Hotel in the city. If I don’t get out of here on time, I won’t get home, shower, change and get back in here again before it starts. Zoe will never forgive me if we walk in late.”
“I can’t believe Zoe’s graduating! It seems like only yesterday she was starting her first year of college. Where has the time gone?”
“You’re telling me!” Phillip laughed. “It feels like yesterday we were bringing her home squalling from the hospital.”
“Two kids down and two to go, right? The way time’s flying by, you’ll have them all off your hands in no time.”
“Yep, we’re halfway there. Maree and I are counting down the years until the younger two are off our hands. Afterwards, we want to buy a caravan and travel around Australia.”
Sam lifted Edmund Rolf’s heart out of the tray and examined it closely. Several blood clots and narrowed arteries told an all too familiar tale. She put the heart into the bowl of the scales and weighed it. “Where are you planning to go?”
“Alice Springs, for starters. We’ve always wanted to see Uluru at dusk.”
“Sounds good,” Sam said, feeling a little wistful. She’d spent so many years working hard to further her career, she’d hardly been anywhere.
“Yes, it does, doesn’t it?” he said, smiling.
Glancing at her colleague again, she nodded toward the body. “Are you nearly finished?”
“I just need to suture her up and she’s pretty much good to go.”
“I’ll do it, if you like. Go and clean up and get out of here. It will give you a head start on the traffic.”
Phillip smiled in surprise. “Really?”
“Yes. After this PM I’m done. It’s no trouble to finish yours.”
“Thanks, Sam. I really appreciate it.”
“No problem. That’s what friends are for.”
Phillip blew her a kiss. “You betcha.” He threw her a wave and headed for the exit, peeling off his mask and gloves as he went.
“Give my congratulations to Zoe and tell Maree I said hi,” she called out.
“I will, and thanks again, Sam. I’ll catch you tomorrow.”
The door closed behind him and Sam returned to the job at hand. Quickly and efficiently, she finished weighing the rest of the organs and then returned them to the open chest cavity. Her findings would show Edmund Rolf had died from a massive heart attack. She was sure it wouldn’t come as a surprise to his family.
Overweight by at least one hundred pounds and with his lungs showing clear signs that, in life, he’d been a heavy smoker, death by heart attack was not only common, it had been predictable. In this case, the pathology confirmed it.
Closing the abdomen and chest with small, neat sutures, Sam restored the body to the way she’d found it and then wheeled the gurney back to the fridge. After depositing Edmund Rolf onto the shelf, she went back into the autopsy suite and finished with Phillip’s lady.
It was nearing five o’clock by the time she cleaned up and deposited her scrubs in the laundry bin provided for that purpose. An ache in her lower back told her it was well and truly time to take a break. Heading to the showers, she stripped off and washed away the effects of the day.
She heard her phone beep over the sound of the water and hurriedly turned off the faucets. Drying quickly, she dug in her handbag and checked the screen. Rohan. He’d texted to say hi and to ask if she had any plans for dinner.
She smiled and excitement coursed through her. She was tired after a long day on her feet, but at the thought of spending the evening with him, her fatigue fell away. Naked except for the towel tied hastily around her, she sent off a reply.
No plans 4 dinner. Would love 2 catch up.
She stopped short of ending it with a “love Sam” even though she wanted to. It was still early in their relationship. Neither of them had taken the next step of introducing the other to their respective families, even though they’d talked about it. The more time she spent with him, the more certain she was that she was falling in love with him… But she didn’t want to preempt things by using the word prematurely.
He was snowed under with his investigation. An investigation that involved her and Alistair. It would be best to wait for that to be resolved and have his undivided attent
ion before making any rash statements. Her phone beeped again and she checked it.
Beer and pizza at my place? I owe u remember?
Sounds good, she typed.
Seven ok?
Seven’s perfect.
* * *
Rohan read the message on the screen of his phone and smiled. Knowing he was having Samantha over for dinner was the only good thing that had happened to him that day. He and Bryce had met with the relatives of the deceased patients whose files had been missing consent forms.
Unwilling to be premature in raising the alarm that something was amiss, they’d been purposefully vague about their reasons for needing the information and had chosen their words with care. It gave Rohan no joy to discover that all of the people they spoke to denied giving permission for any organs and tissues to be removed. It was no surprise those files were missing the consent form. There had never been one to start with.
A check with the other transplant units had also brought to light a strange and disturbing reality. Of all the organ and tissue harvesting that had been conducted at the Sydney Harbour Hospital over the winter months, not one single tissue sample had been received by any of them.
There was plenty of evidence the donated organs had been delivered to the places that put them to good use, but the additional tissue had simply disappeared. Skin tissue, eye tissue, ligaments and tendons—none of it could be traced to an Australian destination, no matter how hard they looked.
When he’d conferred with Bryce in the squad room afterwards, they’d both drawn the most obvious conclusion: The perpetrator was involved in trafficking the human tissue overseas. It was the only explanation that made sense. The question now was this: How had it all been orchestrated?
“We need to bring the boss up to date,” Rohan said. “Given the likelihood this stuff is heading to international destinations, this will no doubt end up being outside our jurisdiction. Holt will need to call in the Australian Federal Police.”
Bryce compressed his lips into a thin line, his expression grim. “Yep.”
“But we have to pin down the person or persons responsible.”
“I’m still liking Wolfe for it,” Bryce said.
Rohan stared at him for a long moment and then finally replied. “Me, too, but we need proof. Hopefully we’ll get what we need after we speak to the theater staff in the morning. I’ve met with the general manager. She’s agreed to arrange for everyone who was rostered on duty over the times in question to meet with us, one by one, in an interview room at the hospital.”
“That will more than likely involve most of the staff. We’re talking three months’ worth of surgeries.”
“Yep. We’re going to be busy.”
“What have you told the GM?”
“The bare essentials, but she’s not stupid. She knows something bad is going down. I feel sorry for her, especially given the rot that went on a few years ago with Doctor Leo Baker.”
“Yeah, wait until Chanel finds out. She’s going to freak.”
“Like a lot of people, I’m guessing. Staff and patients and families alike.”
Bryce shook his head and blew his breath out on a sigh. “The hospital might never recover from another blow like this. It was hard enough to shake off the negative publicity last time.”
Rohan shrugged. “Well, they could start by keeping a closer eye on their employees. If there were better procedures in place, checks and balances, this wouldn’t have happened. Unless there’s a whole team of theater staff involved, it must be someone operating on his own, or at the most, with one or two others. My money’s on the former. There was only one name that showed up on every file—and we both know who that was.”
“I wouldn’t want to be related to Alistair Wolfe, that’s for sure. Life for his family’s never going to be the same again.”
Rohan squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as they’d go and gritted his teeth. He counted a full ten seconds before opening them again.
Bryce stared at him in concern. “Are you all right?”
Rohan thought of spending the next few hours with Alistair Wolfe’s sister, pretending that all was well and his shoulders slumped. “Never been better.”
* * *
Rohan pulled up outside his Cremorne house a little after seven and spied Samantha’s green Honda parked parallel to the curb. He smiled, despite the pain and anxiety that weighed heavily in his gut. He should have simply texted her back and called their evening off, but after all the crap that had gone down that day, he couldn’t bring himself to do it.
It was selfish and totally unfair, but he wanted to have one last magical night with her before everything went to hell. If his suspicions proved correct, this time tomorrow, her brother could find himself behind bars and Rohan would be responsible for putting him there.
Forcing the depressing thoughts from his mind, he collected his briefcase, and the pan-fried, super supreme pizza—with extra cheese—from the passenger seat and headed toward the house.
Samantha was sitting on the front steps, dressed in a pair of denim cut-offs and a snug, gray T-shirt. Her hair was loose and hung in thick waves around her face. In the falling light, she smiled and he could tell she was pleased to see him.
“Hi, stranger,” she murmured with a flick of her hair. “Nice of you to finally join me.”
Her gentle rebuke had no malice and Rohan found himself smiling back. Despite the burden he carried on his shoulders, he was determined to make the most of their night.
Although they hadn’t seen each other since the night he’d stayed with her, they’d been texting and phoning each other as much as their busy schedules allowed. He was falling for her fast. She was smart and beautiful and funny. It saddened him to think that after tonight, she might never want to see him again.
“Sorry I’m late,” he said, “but I come with pizza.”
“No beer?”
“In the fridge. I stocked up a few nights ago.”
She grinned. “You must have known I was coming.”
“Hoped, more like it. It’s good to see you.”
She stood and with the added advantage of the second step, was almost at eye level with him. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she pressed a soft kiss against his mouth.
Heat rushed to his groin and he burned with need. With his hands full, he had no way of holding her, but kissed her back like he was starved for the taste of her. And he was. It felt like forever since he’d held her in his arms.
When at last they drew apart, both of them were breathing fast. He smiled at her. “If that was the appetizer, I can’t wait for the main course.”
She punched him lightly in the arm and then followed him up to the front door. Taking the pizza from him, she waited while he inserted his key. Once inside, he tossed his briefcase on the couch and headed down the hall toward the kitchen, switching on lights as he went. Samantha trailed behind him with the pizza.
“This smells really good,” she said.
“I ordered your favorite.”
“You spoil me,” she teased as they arrived in the kitchen.
“Nowhere near as much as you deserve.” Her cheeks blushed a becoming shade of pink and he could tell she was pleased with his comment.
She went up to him and pressed a light kiss upon his cheek. “You’re so sweet, Rohan Coleridge. I’m never going to let you go.”
He smiled but couldn’t help dreading what would happen tomorrow, and how that would affect them. “How’s your mom?” he asked in an attempt to distract himself from the awful reality the morning was likely to bring.
“She’s all right,” Samantha replied, pulling out a chair and seating herself at the table. She opened the pizza box and took out a slice.
Rohan breathed in the warm, spicy aroma and his belly grumbled. He’d been so busy at work, he hadn’t had time to break for lunch. The pizza smelled great. Twisting the tops off two bottles of beer, he headed back to the table.
“Thanks,” she murmu
red when he offered her a drink. “Here’s cheers.” She clinked her bottle to his and smiled.
“What are we toasting to?” he asked, keeping his tone light.
“To you and me and the future,” she declared in a dramatic voice and then burst out laughing.
Rohan followed suit, but the pizza in his mouth suddenly tasted like cardboard. He chewed and forced himself to swallow it and hoped she didn’t notice his sudden loss of appetite. He should have known better.
Her expression grew wary. “What’s the matter?”
“What do you mean?” he asked, buying time.
“When I toasted our future, you looked like you’d swallowed a toad. I… I thought we were on the same page here. I thought… I thought we both felt the same way. I know we haven’t been dating very long, but…”
Her voice drifted off and all of a sudden, she looked terribly vulnerable and uncertain. Rohan hated that he’d made her feel that way.
“I…” What good would it do to declare his love when in less than twenty-four hours, he could very well be leading her brother to a cell? He was almost certain Alistair was behind the illegal trafficking of human tissue, and tomorrow he intended to prove it. Samantha wasn’t stupid. She’d guess the moment she heard about it that he’d known right here, right now, what was going to happen.
He cursed silently and wished for the hundredth time that life wasn’t so complicated. He looked at her sitting there eating a slice of pizza, and then, he no longer cared about tomorrow. There was only now. He was seated across from the woman he loved and nothing else mattered.
Pushing the pizza box aside, he reached for her hands and slowly drew her to her feet. Confusion and uncertainty warred on her face. She resisted him at first, but he coaxed her upright with gentleness and determination. At last she stood and stared at him with an expression filled with distrust.
“What are you doing, Rohan?”
“I’m not so good with words. It seems like every time I open my mouth around you, I get it wrong, but I want to try and tell you how much you mean to me. My life was a dull vacuum of work and sleep, with very little in between. I lived in a world that was made up of shades of gray. And then I met you.”