by J. D. Robb
“Henley is employed by Natural Order as security.”
“Peabody, start looking at Livingston’s background. Keep going, Yancy.”
“Third, second group, Wendell Phiffer, age twenty-six, Caucasian. Resides Lower West. Single, no registered cohab. He’s employed by Purity Labs and Research as a forensic specialist. Parents, Francis and Lydia, married 2034—he was thirty-eight, she was twenty. Francis is employed by the same lab, Lydia has professional mother status. Wendell is the oldest of six siblings, ages twenty-four, twenty-two, twenty, and twins aged sixteen.”
“Peabody, closer look there, too.”
“Four is the midwife, described and ID’d by both wits. She attended the birth of both of Gina’s kids, and Zoe’s Gabe. They both stated she acts as midwife for the block. In case of a difficult pregnancy, the woman’s taken to Mercy so there’s an OB in attendance in the last few weeks, but they have no ID there, as neither of them needed the OB.”
“That’s going to be Paula Huffman, I’m betting, or an associate if she was elsewhere. Who’s the midwife?”
“Hester Angus, age forty-three, Caucasian, resides on that same block in Tribeca.”
He relayed the salient data while Eve studied the face. It all fit pattern.
“Five, the one called Mother Catherine. Freaking torturer. Catherine Duplay, age sixty-two, Caucasian. Resides at HQ, along with her husband, Dudley, age sixty-two. Both employed there. They list her as educator, he’s maintenance. Two offspring: male, age twenty-seven, female, age twenty-three. Both offspring live in Indiana, both were placed with their paternal grandparents by Child Services when they were fourteen and twelve. Details sealed.”
“We’ll get that, too,” Whitney said.
“Both are single, neither have criminal, both are employed—he teaches, middle-school level, she works at the restaurant owned and run by her grandparents. Owned and run for forty-five years.”
“They got away,” Peabody murmured.
“And last, Deborah Beyers, age thirty-six, Caucasian, married Lloyd Beyers, age forty-eight, five offspring, thirteen, eleven, ten, seven, and five. Also listed as educator. She’s the one, Dallas, who trained Gina on child-rearing, housekeeping, and all that. Lloyd’s an IT guy. They all live in the compound.”
“That’s good work, Yancy. That’s damn good work. We’ll fill it in.”
She turned to the room. “Commander, if you can get those details, every one helps. Peabody, get as much background as you can on all identified individuals. Roarke, it’s your system on the compound, and very likely on the Wilkey residence in the city. Give Feeney all you can, start with the easy one, the residence, so we can start the search. Then I need the weak spots on the compound.”
“You’ve got drone and satellite imagery of the compound,” he said. “I can use that, and likely find a way to access plans and blueprints.”
“Good luck there.” Conroy shrugged. “We’ve tried that route.”
Roarke only offered an easy smile. “Well then, I’ll try winding there another way, see what I can find. Let me confirm the security on the house here, then we’ll get your people set to bypass it without any alerts.”
“Do all that. Everybody, get to work. Yancy, with me in here, and I’ll roll this together for you. After that, you can rotate teams, assist wherever needed.
“Operational briefing in here, fifteen hundred.”
“Is there a room we can use?” Teasdale asked.
Whitney rose. “With me. I’ll set you up.”
While cops headed out, Roarke went to her. “You could use an hour’s downtime.”
“Maybe. Can’t have it.” She glanced around, made sure no one stood within earshot. “It’s what he was going to do to me. Sell me. Over and over again for sex, sell me. We break them, then the downtime.”
“Then eat something.”
“I will. You, too. I have to finish with Yancy. Nadine’s on her way.”
“I’ll have what you need.”
You are what I need, she thought as he left the room.
“Okay, Yancy, you know most of it, but let me catch you up.”
When she finished and sent him to the bullpen, Reo walked in.
“Took awhile. I had to go back to the office, have a sit-down with my boss. First thing, you’ve got warrants—all but the one you want on the HQ.”
She held up a hand before Eve could speak.
“And we’re working on it. You and I need to nail this down, hard down, so we can move on that.”
“I’ve got the hammer: docs coming in proving Natural Order, Wilkey, his daughter—who I’m also going to charge with Ariel Byrd’s murder—have engaged for a couple decades or more in human trafficking, rape with the intent to impregnate, slavery, torture at their HQ, on their godforsaken island, and very likely other locations.”
“That’s one hell of a hammer, Dallas.” Sitting on the edge of the conference table, Reo took a moment. “You have documentation, statements, wits?”
“Documentation, including a statement from Paula Huffman’s OB nurse—now deceased, self-termination—who not only witnessed, but participated. The Huffmans are going down, too. Both doctors are in this, and Oliver Huffman has been identified entering the Piper residence on the night of her murder.”
She paused, tapped a finger on Yancy’s sketch, then Huffman’s official ID.
“Okay.” Reo took out her notebook. “Okay. Don’t stop now.”
“We have Marcia Piper’s blood and gray matter on that charge. I’ll be charging her husband with her murder, and I have solid probable cause he’s hiding inside HQ.”
“That’s a big-ass hammer and a whole lot of nails. Let’s put it together so I can get warrants. I’m going to hit Vending first. All I’ve managed to eat today is half a bagel and I’m starving.”
Eve considered Vending. “Don’t go there. There’s a way to transfer the menu on my AC to the one here. Peabody can do it, and I want her in this anyway. We’ve got more, Reo. We have a whole bunch more nails. I’ll get the search and seizures started. Hold here.”
She hustled back to the bullpen. “Heads up. We have warrants on the Wilkey New York residence, on the Huffmans’ residence, and their clinic. Get them, get the residence searches started. We hold on the clinic. Timing. We have warrants for Jane Po’s residence—her office will, again, wait. So will the halfway house.
“Move on the rest. Peabody, transfer my AC menu to the conference room, and get there yourself, with whatever data you have so far.”
Even as she turned, Nadine stepped in.
“Good,” Eve said. “Out here.”
She walked out to the hallway.
Nadine wore a pale green shirt, untucked, yoga-type black pants with high-top green sneaks and a black leather jacket.
Not camera ready, Eve decided.
“Reo’s in the conference room, and needs to be updated with what you have, and some of what we’ve dug up since I saw her this morning. I have a board up, a very full, complex board loaded with data. It has to be said, nothing you see or hear in that room leaves that room until I give you the go.”
“It shouldn’t have to be said between us.”
“It has to be said,” Eve corrected. “Listen, I slapped back an FBI agent for questioning your integrity about an hour ago. I should get some points for that.”
“You do. And okay, I get it has to be said. Just as I have to say, out loud, all of this is off the record until you say it’s back on. It’s been a really long twenty-four or so for me.”
As she studied Eve’s face, Nadine pursed her lips. “For you, too, I’d say.”
“The next twenty-four are going to be a lot longer, a lot harder for a lot of sons of bitches. So are the multiple, consecutive lifetimes in cages going to be long and hard.”
“Let me help you put them there.”
“Let’s get started.”
With a sigh, Nadine paused at Vending. “I need a boost, even something from here. I�
�ve been too busy to grab more than a bagel.”
“Bagels seem to be the choice of the day. I’m having food sent in.”
“Great. You know,” Nadine continued as they walked, “a couple of days ago, walking through that big, crazy house with Mavis, I felt so damn up. Just knowing, seeing, good things happen to people I care about. And now?”
She shook back her streaky blond hair. “I know there’s a lot of ugly in the world. You and I make our living off the ugly. But—hell, Dallas, a long twenty-four.”
“We’re about to carve away a lot of ugly. Have a seat.”
“Been sitting, need to move a little. Hi, Reo.”
“Nadine. Love those sneaks!”
“Thanks. Me, too. Did you hear Mavis and Leonardo bought a house?”
“What? When? Where?”
Eve held out a hand. “Documentation before you start chatting.”
Nadine took a box of discs out of her enormous bag. “They’re labeled, and I reviewed every one of them. Just a few days ago, and just a few blocks from here,” she told Reo. “It’s this old, big, crazy place with an attached multilevel unit. Peabody and McNab are taking it.”
“What? Wow!”
While they chattered over houses and friends, Eve set to work organizing the discs for display on-screen.
“I’ve got this,” she said as Peabody came in. “Get the food going.”
“What are the possibilities?” Reo wondered. “I swear I can’t face another salad.”
“How about a burger?”
“Don’t toy with me, Peabody.”
“Got burgers. Cow.”
Reo just closed her eyes. “It’s a whole new world. Medium rare? Side of fries, and why not go for broke if this is really happening. Tube of Pepsi.”
“I’m doing exactly the same.” Nadine sighed again, but this time with pleasure.
“Got you covered. Dallas? What do you want to eat?”
“What? Whatever.”
“Burgers all around! I’m down a whole size.”
“I knew it!” Nadine walked over to Peabody, circled a finger to order a turn. “I knew it.”
“Really?” Thrilled, Peabody did another turn. “You noticed?”
“Of course I did. Congratulations.”
“I won’t hit burgers and fries often, but I’m celebrating a little. My pants aren’t loose today because they’re new, and a size down.”
“And they look mag,” Reo told her. “I love the little strip of navy piping down the sides. Cute, and leg-lengthening.”
“If we’ve completed the socializing portion of the program, maybe we can turn to murder, abductions, torture, and human trafficking.”
“They go so well with burgers.” Reo sent Eve a bright smile. Then she closed her eyes again. “Oh my God, smell them!”
Peabody set it all out, complete with condiments, napkins, glasses full of ice. Eve found herself surprised her partner hadn’t come up with a centerpiece of flowers.
“Now this is what I call a lunch meeting.” Reo dug right in.
“Nadine, tell Reo what you told me, then we’ll view the documentation.”
Reo managed to eat and take notes while Nadine spoke.
“It would help to have the name of your source.”
“I can’t give you that.”
“I know where you stand on it, but the fact is, the sister—if all this is true—will be in those documents as OB nurse. We’ll have her name.”
“My source changed hers, changed the children’s names, and moved out of the country. You can, as I did, dig it up and find her. She knows that. She’s afraid, as anyone would be, of reprisals if their names and locations go public.”
“When and if we identify them, when and if we need her testimony, we will, absolutely, keep her identity out of it.”
“We’re not going to need it.” Since it was there, right in front of her, Eve took a bite of burger. “I’m telling you, we’ll have enough to put them away without her direct testimony.”
Reo swept a fry through a little pool of ketchup. “I hate to give up a nail. But we’ll see.”
“On-screen. First doc is the medical files on a female identified only as Candidate A. You see her age, race, hair and eye color, height, weight,” Eve continued as she displayed the file. “Various tests, blood work, gyn exam, dental screening, and so on, and the doctor’s notes certifying Candidate A as a healthy subject, a strong candidate for insemination. It’s signed Dr. Paula Huffman, with the date.
“Next is the nutritionist’s evaluation and recommendations for diet and pre-insemination vitamins and supplements. Peabody, run a search on the nutritionist. We’re going to want a warrant there, too.”
“Already running it.”
“We then have files signed by Karyn Keye, nurse practitioner, ob-gyn. These track Candidate A’s ovulation cycle for a period of six weeks, the hormone treatments to increase chances of implantation during that same period. Huffman also signs off on the recommended date for insemination.”
“No proof here that the candidate was unwilling.”
“Wait for it,” Nadine told Reo.
“Don’t have to wait long. Here are evaluations on emotional state—we want the name of the shrink run, Peabody—and the medications used to assist Candidate A in maintaining calm.”
Reo picked up her glass and read. “ ‘Candidate A remains resistant, but her demands to be released have decreased. Mild depression is being treated. Hormone therapy has, of course, added to mood swings. We will continue talk therapy as well as closely supervised exercise, including the allotted time out of doors. Restraints remain necessary.’ ”
Reo took a long drink. “And there we go.”
“This file,” Eve continued, “documents Huffman ordered a mild sedative on the insemination date, as well as restraints. She repeated the process on the next day to increase probability of conception. Then we have the OB nurse monitoring for forty-eight hours before she administered the pregnancy test. Positive.
“More files follow the exams and monitoring of the pregnancy, the nutrition, prescribed exercise, medication.”
“Jesus, look at the shrink report. She’s Patient A now,” Peabody said. “ ‘Patient A has embraced her pregnancy and is very cooperative. She refers to the fetus as “my baby,” talks of the names she’s chosen, and has moved into a calm and somewhat dreamy state in her thirty-first week.’ ”
“We move to the birth. Huffman again has her sedated, not out, just a mild sedative. She induces labor—that’s control again. You’ve got all the birth stuff, the progression of labor—lots of the OB nurse’s notes and initials over a ten-hour period. Then the data on the delivery, male, length, weight, the screenings—a healthy baby boy. Pass the fucking cigars.”
“Then they took the baby,” Nadine put in. “Monitored her for the next forty-eight when she became Resident Female.”
“Is there any documentation on what they did with her?”
“Young,” Eve pointed out, “healthy pregnancy and birth? I’m betting they kept her there as a breeder, or sold her to some guy. There are more like this—I scanned—and we can go through all of them.”
“I’ll need to,” Reo affirmed, “but for now?”
“For now, there are several with names—first names—ages, races, recruiter name, location of contact. And the name of the husband, his status in the order, his profession. Date of conception, whether it was by natural means or insemination.”
“Wilkey donated his sperm. I know I’m jumping ahead,” Nadine said, “but it applies here. If the husband’s wasn’t viable, Wilkey’s was often used.”
“What a generous guy,” Peabody muttered.
“There’s more documentation from the clinic the Huffmans run here in New York,” Eve continued. “Files on females, physicals prior to conception, monitoring of pregnancies, and so on. The same for the facilities at HQ.
“Then there’s accounting. Once she decided to cut ties, this nurse
was as thorough as she could manage. I skimmed a bit, and clearly we’re going to match some if not all of the names with payments to Natural Order, to the Huffmans, to the medical staff. We’ve got a spreadsheet—Wait.”
She zipped through until she brought it up. “See there. Names of candidates, date of contact, recruiter, payments. Marriage payment on the profit side, right? Medical fees—Natural Order splits those with the husbands—then the payment—the bonus—for each live, healthy birth.”
“Buying babies. I can work with that, too.”
“Thought you could. It’s all there, Reo, payments for young females, deductions for medical fees, training fees, housing fees, and so on. The bonuses. And for another bonus?”
She switched data. “Our unidentified source managed to get her hands on some of the records from the island’s Realignment center. Names again—or subject numbers—dates, treatments—which is what they call torture. All of these records jibe with Gwen Huffman’s statement on her experience with same.
“And you have a few files on success rate, failures, mortality. Assignments and destinations. Clearly some of these people are kept on the island as laborers. As slaves, or as forced breeders.”
Eve paused, smiled thinly. “I’m sending all this to Abernathy at Interpol. That should get their asses in gear.”
“I’m going to get your warrants, Dallas.”
“Fucking A.”
“I need copies of all of this, and we’ll review it all, make our case for those warrants. You’ve got the FBI on this, so I want one of them in the offices.”
“I’ll make that happen.”
Reo tipped her wrist to check the time. “We have to talk details. Our wits ID’d Oliver Huffman and others at the crime scene. They ID’d Mirium Wilkey as their so-called recruiter, Po as the conduit. And I’ll get those warrants. I’ll sure as hell get one for Lawrence Piper, for Stanton Wilkey. I need why you want to arrest Mirium Wilkey for the murder of Ariel Byrd.”
“It’s a long, convoluted story. But I’m right.”
“Then I’m glad I went for red meat.” Reo paused for a fry. “Tell me a story.”
Once she had, Reo packed up her things. “I’m going to need a solid two hours, maybe three.”