Missing - Mark Kane Mysteries - Book Five: A Private Investigator Crime Series of Murder, Mystery, Suspense & Thriller Stories...with a dash of Romance. A Murder Mystery & Suspense Thriller

by John Hemmings

  “If we can find the location where the accident occurred then I’m hopeful that we can narrow the search to a manageable area. In the meantime, we must keep our fingers crossed that we can somehow assist in Vicky’s recovery.”

  “And that the body isn’t Marisa’s,” Lucy said firmly.

  “That too.”

  “I called Jillian to tell her the news and without hesitation she said she’d come with me in the morning to Clinton and help try to revive Vicky,” Lucy said. “She insisted; she pointed out that her voice would be familiar to Vicky whereas mine wouldn’t, and anyway she’ll have more recollection of what Vicky did in those few days before she disappeared.”

  I wasn’t surprised. From the little I knew of Jillian and her friends I knew they’d be anxious to help.

  “Tell her to bring the tape of Marisa’s voice,” I said.

  During the drive to Kansas City Spinks gave me a run-down on what to expect.

  “The Jackson County Medical Examiner’s Office is the only National Association of Medical Examiners accredited medical examiner’s office in the State of Missouri,” he said. “It’s staffed with Board Certified Forensic Pathologists, Board Certified or Registered Medical Legal Death Investigators and Forensic Technicians, and it’s recognized as one of the best in the country. Most autopsies in cases of suspected unnatural deaths in Missouri are conducted there unless the cause of death is obvious, like a gun death.”

  The drive took almost two hours as we hit heavy traffic on the edge of the city. I was ambivalent about the length of the journey – on one hand I wanted to get there and get it over with as quickly as possible, but on the other hand I was subconsciously reluctant to face it. I’d seen the victims of violent death many times during my fifteen years in the job, broken sad news to many families and loved ones. It’s something that you never get used to. I pictured Roberts in his wing chair in his sitting room in Boston and I could feel his grief. But if the body was Marisa’s there’s nothing anybody could have done. She’d probably been dead since before we left Boston. I knew so little about her – a few snapshots, the brief history of her upbringing, the impression she’d made on her new friends in Springfield. I’d imagined finding her and reuniting her with her father. And now, as I walked down the empty corridor towards the medical examiner’s office, listening to the echoing sound of my own footsteps on the linoleum floor, I dug my teeth hard into my bottom lip to keep my emotions from showing.

  We were shown into the office of Sally Bowman, the interim chief medical examiner. She was sitting at her desk and rose to meet us as we entered. After a brief introduction she led us to the mortuary. On the way she explained that the preliminary examination was complete but that some organ and tissue samples had been sent for analysis. She told me that Sheriff Benson had informed her that I was attending for the purpose of identification of the victim; she knew nothing about my investigation – her job was to simply determine the manner and cause of death. Time seemed to have speeded up somehow. It was like those last precious days of vacation before you went back to school – they passed, or seemed to pass, unnaturally quickly. It seemed that one moment I was getting out of the car and the next I was standing next to a refrigerated drawer gliding out almost soundlessly. I steeled myself – not because the sight of death frightened me, but because it was the moment of truth.

  Chapter Seventeen

  The Red Market

  “It’s not her,” I said. “It’s not Marisa.”

  I heard Lucy exhale. “Thank God,” she said.

  “I need to spend some more time here with the medical officer – it’s a lady by the way. She knows nothing about our investigation; it’s not her job. But I want to try to make sense of everything and she’s agreed to discuss the matter with me off the record. She was rather reluctant at first but I’ve explained that there’s another life at risk and so I’m going to see her again at five o’clock. Then later I’m going to call Roberts. I’m not going to tell him about Cindy or the latest victim – there’s no need – but Spinks is going to contact Glen Crombie. Spinks thinks it’s worth trying again to see if he can locate the place where the accident happened. I know he wasn’t able to remember before but he was probably still in shock then. It may be that with my help we can find the approximate location of the accident. It’s the best chance we have of finding out where Vicky had come from that night. I’ll see you and Jillian in the morning. Benson’s apparently arranged some accommodation for us so I’ll call you again this evening when we get back to Clinton.”

  “Okay I’m going to call Jillian,” she said.

  “And I’m going to have a stiff drink,” I said.

  At five I returned to Sally’s office with Spinks and we gave her a brief account of the inquiry. I explained that I had reason to believe that Marisa and Vicky had been abducted by the people responsible for the deaths of Cindy Stamper and Jane Doe, the as yet unidentified body in the mortuary. I told her that Vicky was safe but comatose in the hospital in Clinton and that we were trying to locate the place where she and Marisa had been taken when they left Springfield.

  “I appreciate that none of this has any bearing on your work,” I said, “but I want to try to make sense of what happened to the two deceased girls. It now seems very likely that Cindy’s death was a homicide, although I understand that the original examination of her body was inconclusive.”

  “Yes, that’s right,” Sally said. “Of course we’ll have to reconsider our findings in relation to Cindy. It’s going to be necessary to exhume her remains I’m afraid. As you know, it was originally believed that her missing kidneys were the result of scavenging by animals, but we need to look more closely at the body in the light of the findings in relation to Jane Doe. There’s no doubt that her death was caused as an indirect result of the surgical removal of one of her kidneys. The loss of a kidney itself would not necessarily have been fatal, of course. As I’m sure you know, some people donate a kidney to help save a life and, provided the surgical procedure is carried out properly, the removal of a kidney from an otherwise healthy individual should have no adverse long-term effect on the donor’s health or life-expectancy. But in the case of the unfortunate Miss Doe the surgery was botched. The cause of death was a post-operative infection by what is commonly known as a superbug − Methicillin-resistant Staphylococcus aureus. That’s a bacterial infection which, as its name suggests, is resistant to all but the most powerful antibiotics. Unless the bacteria is promptly identified and dealt with death is inevitable. Even with swift and appropriate treatment such infections are often fatal.”

  “But surely she would have died from the removal of both kidneys anyway, wouldn’t she?”

  “The second kidney wasn’t removed until after her death, or at least not until the infection had become critical.”

  “How can you be sure of that?”

  “Because of the progression of the infection. It’s clear the infection was well advanced, which means she didn’t die for several days − perhaps a week − after she contracted the infection. During that week her other kidney must have still been functioning.”

  “So let me get this straight. One of her kidneys was removed. Then she developed a serious infection. Then after a week or so the other kidney was removed – either shortly before or after her death?”

  “Those are my preliminary findings, yes. The examination of her body was relatively simple because I estimated that she hadn’t been dead for longer than ten to twelve days. The body of Miss Stamper had apparently been buried initially but, perhaps because of foraging by animals or because of weathering of the soil, her body had been exposed to the elements for some time before it was discovered. And of course the decomposition of her body was much further advanced.”

  I sat trying to take all of this in.

  “Can you suggest any reason why these girls had their kidneys removed?” I said. “Why would it be necessary to remove a kidney?”

&nbs
p; “Look, Mr. Kane, all this is off the record, you understand? My job is to determine the cause of death. It’s no part of my job to speculate about anything else.”

  “Of course,” I said. “I fully understand that.”

  “There’s only one reason that I can think of off-hand,” Sally said.

  “Which is?”

  “The red market,” she said, looking up at me.

  “In Missouri?” I said, making no attempt to mediate my astonishment.

  “So you know what I’m referring to?” she said.

  “Yes – the illegal trade in human organs. I’ve read about it in third-world countries. But here, in the United States? It’s incredible,” I said.

  “Well, you’re the detective, but wasn’t it Sherlock Holmes who said “When you’ve eliminated the impossible whatever remains, however improbable, must be the truth?”

  “But…”

  “Let me give you a few facts,” she said. “Let’s start with some statistics. Only about seventy thousand kidneys are transplanted world-wide each year. Right now there are over one hundred thousand people waiting for kidney transplants in the US alone. Every day, on average, twelve of them will die. Last year over four thousand people died while waiting for a suitable transplant. When rich people face the prospect of death their principles tend to take a back seat, and some of the surgeons who operate on them tend not to ask too many questions about the origin of the organs they obtain. According to the World Health Organization about one fifth of kidney transplants involve an illegally obtained kidney, and the price of an illegally harvested kidney can be as high as $160,000.”

  I raised my eyebrows as I took that in. “But doesn’t there have to be a match?” I said. “I thought that donors of kidneys had to have a close family connection.”

  “That used to be the case, but with the development of drugs that prevent tissue rejection it’s now possible to transplant a kidney from a total stranger. The problem nowadays is more about infection. A donor kidney from an illegal source is more likely to be infected with Hepatitis or possibly HIV – especially kidneys from third world countries. In this case, one of the kidneys would have been contaminated with MRSA.”

  “A hundred and sixty thousand dollars,” I said. “People have been murdered for a lot less than that.”

  “Well I’m not suggesting murder necessarily,” Sally said. “Most illegal organs come from willing donors in need of cash. A donor might expect to make $5,000 for donating a kidney on the black market – or the red market as it’s more commonly called. But kidney removal for transplant is not without significant risks. What we have here might be accidental deaths in the course of an illegal organ removal; but the body would still need to be disposed of to conceal the crime and the criminal cause of death.”

  “But if Cindy Stamper had lost both of her kidneys it was bound to be fatal.”

  Sally thought for a moment or two.

  “Suppose you had a donor die during an illegal operation to remove a kidney. You might decide to remove the other kidney rather than let it go to waste. I’m not saying that this is what happened; it’s just an educated guess.”

  “But Cindy Stamper wasn’t likely to have been a willing donor,” I said.

  “How would you know that?” she said. “People sell their blood; some women sell their bodies for cash. Perhaps she needed money and wasn’t aware of the risks. I appreciate that this is all speculation, of course, but you asked for my opinion.”

  “Well I hope your theory’s correct, if I can call it a theory, because Marisa certainly wasn’t in need of money. But then why would this group have abducted her? I’m sorry, I’m not expecting an answer to that, I was just thinking aloud.”

  “From what you’ve told me it doesn’t seem to make sense, I agree. Illegal harvesting of body parts for gain is, by its nature, a covert business; so you wouldn’t want to invite a stranger along. I really can’t hazard a guess as to why they would have abducted Marisa or…”

  “Vicky,” I said. “No, it’s a bit of a puzzle.”

  We both sat in silence for a while.

  “But if Jane Doe died of a Staphylococcal infection then her remaining kidney must have been infected. There’d be no use in removing it for a possible future transplant; the recipient would die.”

  Sally looked me straight in the eyes.

  “Yes,” she said. “That would be obvious to anyone with even an iota of medical knowledge. So if I’m right you’re dealing with a thoroughly ruthless bunch of individuals. But as St Paul observed ‘the love of money is the root of all kinds of evil’. I imagine in your line of work you’re familiar with that.”

  “Thank you, Miss Bowman. With your help I’m beginning to understand what I’m up against here. I’m most grateful. But I mustn’t keep you,” I said, “and I have to get back to Clinton. I’ve still got a missing girl to find.”

  “I’ll keep my fingers crossed for you,” she said. “Let’s hope there are no more bodies out there.”

  I was lost in thought as we drove back to Clinton, racking my brains for an explanation for Marisa’s disappearance, but comforted by the thought that there was a good chance that she was still alive. And then my thoughts turned to Vicky. She was struck by Crombie’s car on the evening of February six, the same day that Marisa left a message on Jillian’s answering machine. Was that just a coincidence, I wondered? It was late afternoon when Marisa made that call and she’d been alone in the maroon Eldorado with three men. Apparently Vicky had been left behind. Had she somehow managed to escape during their absence? That seemed the most likely explanation. And what would the others have done when they found her gone? They couldn’t possibly know that she’d be incapacitated by an accident; and if that hadn’t happened then Vicky would have been able to lead the police to wherever it was that she and Marisa had been held. What would her captors have done in the circumstances? Leave. That was their only choice. They’d have to abandon wherever it was they were staying. Would they have taken Marisa with them though, or would they have had to silence her for good? And even if she was still alive, where was she?

  Back in Clinton Sheriff Benson had made reservations for us at the Black Abbott, a small hotel on the outskirts of the city. Spinks had promised to call Glen Crombie; he’d call me in the morning to arrange for my visit to the scenes where the two bodies had been found. I checked in at the hotel and called Roberts. Timpson answered the phone and told me that Roberts was taking a nap; he’d call me as soon as he awoke. I went down to the hotel bar where the barman persuaded me to try his signature martini. I sat swirling the swizzle stick slowly in the glass. I wasn’t convinced that Sally Bowman had the right handle on the case. The abduction of Marisa and Vicky suggested that the group were intent on harvesting organs from unwilling donors. It was the only thing that made sense to me, especially when the first body belonged to a college undergraduate. If the donors were willing participants, then probably someone knew where they’d gone and would alert the police when they didn’t return. So it seemed more likely that the donors were being forcibly abducted.

  Just because Marisa’s body hadn’t been found didn’t mean she was still alive. Vicky was the key to the mystery. She’d have all the answers if they could just wake her up. In the meantime, there was Glen Crombie. We’d try to retrace his movements on the night of the accident and try to determine where it had happened.

  The sheriff’s office was doing all they could to help but I couldn’t expect them to mount any operation of their own – at least not yet. Despite my theorizing and speculation there was no hard evidence that the group that Marisa and Vicky had met were connected in any way with the bodies that had been found. Cindy had been seen with the group, or some of the group, before she disappeared, but there was no evidence that they were connected with her disappearance. There was no evidence linking that group with the two bodies that had been discovered. Marisa had told Jillian that she was going with the group
to a commune, but Jillian’s account was only hearsay. It was a sufficient basis for suspicion but it didn’t amount to evidence.

  Suppose one or more of the members of that group suddenly walked into the Black Abbott hotel, and suppose again that they simply denied having anything to do with the bodies that had been found or the disappearance of Vicky and Marisa? There was no evidence to the contrary to implicate them in any wrongdoing. Unless I could find some hard evidence my investigation wasn’t going to lead anywhere, and Vicky might remain comatose for a considerable time – perhaps indefinitely.

  I had to pin my hopes on Crombie and his ability to locate the scene of the accident. Somewhere near there was the place where I was sure the two girls had been held, and if I could pinpoint the accident location it would only be a matter of time before I found the premises. But then I was sure that the premises would be empty now, abandoned by the Regenerators. Regenerators – the name had now taken on a sinister meaning; would-be regenerators of the body, not the mind.

  I went back to the room and called Lucy.

  “I’m in the Black Abbott,” I told her.

  “Is that a bar?”

  “No, it’s actually rather a nice hotel. Benson arranged it.”

  She and Jillian would leave at the crack of dawn and be in Clinton by eight or eight thirty. Almost as soon as I put the telephone back in its cradle my cell phone rang. It was Timpson, and he put me through to his employer.

  “Ah, Kane,” Roberts said weakly, “Lucy called me earlier to bring me up to date.” He paused, and I could hear his labored breathing. “Have there been any further developments?”

  “The sheriff’s office is going to arrange for the driver of the car that struck Vicky to return to Clinton in the hope that he can lead me to the location where the accident occurred,” I said. “If he’s able to help with that then we should be able to find out where Vicky and Marisa were being held. Apart from that there’s nothing new – no doubt Lucy explained about Vicky’s situation and her intention to see if she can bring her out of her coma.”