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

  After carefully studying the two circles I believed I could narrow the area of search even further – probably to an area of about fifteen to twenty square miles. If Glen could spot the place where the accident happened, then it would enable me to shrink the area of search even further.

  I drove back to the sheriff’s office and the three of us set off in the Crombie’s car.

  Chapter Twenty

  A Fruitless Search

  It wasn’t a fruitful search. We decided to drive south from the place where Glen had turned off the highway. He was sure we were traveling on the same road. We didn’t concentrate for the first twenty miles, but then I asked him to pay careful attention. We continued south, driving at no more than twenty-five miles-an-hour and Glen and Catherine gazed out of the windows.

  “It all looks more or less the same,” Glen said. “Unfortunately I wasn’t paying much attention to our surroundings, other than keeping an eye out for a place to stop for the night. I’m afraid I was a bit preoccupied at the time; bad day at the office if you know what I mean. It’s been troubling me a lot since. If I hadn’t been so preoccupied with thinking about my job, maybe I’d have seen Vicky in time and I wouldn’t have hit her.”

  “I don’t think you have any reason to blame yourself. I saw the statement you gave after the accident – Benson has a copy. Vicky was dressed in dark clothing and the visibility was poor.”

  “I did hit the brakes,” Glen said, “but the car kind of slid around. I couldn’t avoid her.”

  “She’s going to be okay, don’t worry,” I said.

  “That’s the sign,” Glen said. “I recognize that at least.”

  He was referring to the sign to Warsaw so we knew we’d already passed the spot where the accident happened. We drove back northwards again.

  “I’d only be guessing,” Glen said. “I’m sorry, I don’t want to guess.”

  “It’s okay, it was a longshot anyway. And at least from your description of the drive I’ve managed to narrow it down to a stretch of road no more than four or five miles long. And we know she came from the west, so that narrows it down further. Unfortunately, we have no idea how far she’d come nor which direction she took to get to the road. Maybe she’ll be able to help with that eventually.”

  “Maybe if we came back after dark…” Glen said.

  “I don’t think so Glen. You’ve done your best and I can’t ask for more than that.”

  “We’d like to see Vicky before we head home,” Glen said, as we drove back to Clinton.

  “I’m sure that’ll be no problem; I’ll introduce you to her doctor,” I said.

  We stopped by the hospital when we got back to Clinton. Dr. Fletcher asked a nurse to escort Glen and Catherine to Vicky’s room and I stayed behind for a while.

  “How long do you think it will be before I can ask Vicky some simple questions about what happened to her,” I said.

  “Her improvement is becoming much more rapid now,” Fletcher said. “She’s spoken a few words; she knows where she is and she understands that she’s had an accident. I wouldn’t be surprised if she’s up and about in two or three days – after all, there’s nothing physically wrong with her. But…”

  “I guess you don’t want me barging in and causing some kind of relapse,” I said.

  “It’s not that, Mr. Kane. It’s just that I shouldn’t get your hopes too high. As I told you on Monday there’s a great deal we still don’t understand about how the human brain works. But we do know this – there’s a mechanism in the brain which determines what we remember and what we forget. It’s a mechanism that we have no conscious control over. Obviously the brain doesn’t retain memories of everything that we see or hear or do. If it did we’d have a complete sensory overload. So the brain selects for us what we remember and what we forget. Why don’t you take a seat?”

  I sat down and Dr. Fletcher sat down opposite me. “You see we have very little control over what we remember, or what we forget. You can’t forget something just because you want to. Of course you can train yourself to remember things better or more accurately, and some people naturally have better memories than others. But the brain is there to protect us, to act as our guardian if you like. So it will remember things that it thinks can help us – like what’s good for us and what’s not. But what I’m really getting at is this: if Vicky’s brain doesn’t want her to remember something then it has the ability to block it out. So you may find that even when she’s fully recovered she might not remember the events leading up to the accident. I base this possibility on my belief that it was the trauma that happened before the accident that may be largely responsible for her comatose state rather than the accident itself, although that would no doubt have been a contributing factor.”

  “Yes, I’ve read a great deal about this over the years,” I said. “There’s a belief, isn’t there, that dreams are a way for the brain to cleanse itself during sleep?”

  “Well I know even less about dreams than I know about the brain.” He smiled at me. “I mean I know a great deal about how the brain works, but it’s a bit like the universe – the more we learn the more there is that we realize we don’t know.”

  “So you don’t rule out the possibility that she may have a clear recollection of the events before the accident. That’s also possible, isn’t it?”

  “Yes it is. I suggest a careful, softly, softly approach will be best. Don’t press her too much. If she remembers she remembers, if she doesn’t then no amount of pressing is going to make a difference.”

  “I understand, and although I’m anxious to find out about Marisa I wouldn’t do anything to compromise Vicky’s own recovery, you can rest assured of that.”

  “Let’s see how things pan out, shall we?” he said. We shook hands and I left for Vicky’s room. Glen and Catherine were getting ready to leave and I thanked them again for their help.

  “I’m just sorry I couldn’t do more,” Glen said. “And I would have come anyway, if only to see for myself that the young lady’s going to be okay.”

  I walked Catherine and Glen down to the reception on the first floor.

  “Have a safe trip home,” I said.

  “You know,” Glen said, turning around to face me, “that few seconds when the accident happened changed my life too, mostly for the better. It’s changed my whole perspective on life. I was constantly worrying about my job, forever complaining about how things in my line of work had changed for the worse over the years. Now I don’t give a darn. We’re all expendable, and when I’m dead and gone life will still go on. So now I just do what I’m paid to do, smile at everyone and look forward to my retirement. Strange, isn’t it, how something like that can change a person’s whole outlook on life?”

  “It’s an ill wind,” I said.

  “I hope you find the other girl – Marisa − safe and sound,” he said. “I’ve a feeling that you’re the kind of guy that’ll leave no stone unturned.”

  Nor pebble nor grain of sand I thought to myself as I waved them goodbye. Lucy had finished her shift for the day and she, Jillian and I decided that it was time for a small celebration; and since the kind of celebration I had in mind would preclude driving home we adjourned to the hotel restaurant and ordered the finest steaks they could lay their hands on and a bottle of champagne. Our job was far from over, but tomorrow was another day.

  “Do you think Jillian and I helped bring Vicky round?” Lucy said as we lay in bed. “Or maybe it’s something that would’ve just happened anyway.”

  “That’s something we shall never know, but I’m inclined to think that you helped.”

  “It’s disappointing that Glen couldn’t find the accident spot,” she said.

  “I wasn’t particularly optimistic that he would,” I said. “But he has narrowed down the area that will need to be searched. It’s about ten miles from where the bodies were found. But you know, even if we find the place it’s extremely unlikely that t
hey’ll still be there. I was thinking about it on the drive back from Kansas City. Once Vicky escaped they would’ve had to get out of there. They had no means of knowing that she hadn’t gone straight to the police.”

  “Yes, I see,” Lucy said. “But there might be clues there. If they left in a hurry they’ve almost certainly left clues behind.”

  “Exactly, that’s why we have to find the place.” I didn’t mention my concern that in their flight they might have murdered Marisa. There was no point in putting that kind of damper on what had been an enjoyable evening. It had been the first time for quite a while that we’d been able to relax a little.

  “You know?” Lucy said, “I wish I’d been a nurse. Or a doctor of course if I could’ve passed the exams. I think it must be very satisfying to have a job where you help people get better, or at least try to. It’s really a selfless kind of job.”

  I was only half listening because something Lucy had said had stirred a sudden realization in the back of my mind. I’d had an epiphany − but I decided to think about it some more before revealing it to Lucy; to sleep on it. I’d still remember it in the morning. It wasn’t something that my brain was going to let me forget.

  Chapter Twenty One

  Epiphany

  “I think you inadvertently may have solved the puzzle of Marisa’s abduction or kidnapping,” I said, as I lay in the bathtub, soap bubbles decorously covering my nether regions. Lucy had her back to me and was brushing her teeth. She turned to face me.

  “How?” she said. “When?”

  “Last night, just before we…went to sleep.”

  Lucy frowned at me. “What did I say?”

  “You were saying what a rewarding job nursing would be.”

  “Not very well paid though, is it?”

  “I think you may possibly have found the elusive missing piece of the puzzle.”

  “Go on then – what?”

  “I haven’t gotten around to telling you about my conversation with Sally Bowman yet. She’s the interim chief medical examiner I met in Kansas City. She had a theory about the deaths of Cindy and the as-yet-unidentified girl found last week. I wasn’t really convinced by her idea at the time, but it’s growing on me.”

  “What did she say?” Lucy said, taking a swig of mouthwash.

  “She thinks that whoever was responsible for the deaths of the two girls may have been in the process of removing their kidneys with a view to selling them on the black market, or the red market as it’s more commonly known these days in certain circles. It’s a highly lucrative business and it’s getting to be more and more prevalent.”

  “S’amazing,” Lucy said, attempting to gargle and talk at the same time. She stopped gargling with her mouthwash, spat it out and turned to face me again.

  “She thinks that rather than the girls being murdered they may have died accidentally during or after the surgery. She suggested that the bodies may have been disposed of by the group to conceal their criminal activity.”

  Lucy sat down on the toilet seat. “Which part of this theory were you skeptical about?” she said.

  “Well she suggested that the deceased girls may have been willing donors of a kidney in return for cash. She postulated that Cindy’s other kidney may have been removed at the time of or shortly after her death. If Cindy died accidentally during or after her surgery, then they may have removed the other kidney anyway – rather than letting it go to waste was the way Sally put it. Apparently donor kidneys go for a hundred and sixty thousand dollars on the red market. It didn’t seem likely to me that Cindy would have agreed to sell a kidney for cash, given what little we know about her. Usually you’d have to be pretty desperate to do that, because the surgery has significant risks even when it’s done legally. But Sally quite rightly pointed out that we didn’t really know anything about Cindy – she might have been in urgent need of cash, and she might not have appreciated the risk. She might have been willing. But then there was Vicky and Marisa. I was sure, at least for Marisa, that she couldn’t possibly have been a willing participant in the illegal trade in body organs. I was convinced that there must be another explanation for her disappearance. That’s why I didn’t mention Sally’s theory to you before.”

  “So what’s caused you to change your mind?”

  “Sally said Jane Doe died as a result of an acute infection following the surgical removal of her kidney. She estimates that she probably lived for up to a week after the infection set in. You remember what Roberts told us? Marisa had just qualified as a Licensed Practical Nurse, and was even considering nursing as a career. And then I remembered that Miss Bowman had estimated the latest victim’s death as less than two weeks before the examination. No longer than ten to twelve days is what she said. So she was probably sick when Marisa was kidnapped.”

  Lucy had returned to the bedroom and I was toweling myself down in the bathroom. I put on a hotel robe, walked over to the coffee-maker and switched it on.

  “So think about it. Suppose Jane Doe had recently had her kidney removed but had suffered a medical complication. It’s possible that what interested the group about Marisa is that she had some nursing experience; basic, of course, but better than nothing. I mean they could hardly go to a nursing agency, and if Sally’s right they would want to do what they could to prevent Jane’s death; dead bodies aren’t good for business. The timing fits and it’s at least an explanation as to why they may have kidnapped Marisa. She may have mentioned her background in nursing to the group when she met them.”

  “But what about Vicky?” Lucy said, as she walked over to pour the coffee. “Why take her too?”

  “Probably because Marisa wouldn’t have gone without her. Marisa wouldn’t have known their true motive for inviting her to the ‘commune’ at that time.”

  “So this new theory of yours is solely based on the fact that Marisa had some nursing experience?”

  “Well not solely, but it’s a rational explanation – the only rational explanation I can think of. Before this idea struck me I was at a total loss to understand why Marisa had been abducted, kidnapped, whatever. This new theory makes sense to me.”

  “It’s a bit speculative, isn’t it?”

  “Of course,” I said. “That’s what you frequently have to do in this job; make sense of things by finding a theory that fits. I accept it may be wide of the mark, but I hope not.”

  “Because it would mean that Marisa may not be in immediate danger?” Lucy said.

  “Exactly. If the group we’re looking for are simply cold-blooded killers then Marisa will probably be dead already. But whatever view you take of their criminal activities, if the two girls whose bodies have been found were not intentionally killed it puts the matter in a different light. Maybe they’re simply holding Marisa somewhere until they can make a clean getaway. Maybe they think she’d be useful as a hostage, as something to negotiate with if they’re located. I don’t know, but it gives me renewed hope that we may yet find Marisa alive.

  Lucy sat in an armchair gazing out the window and taking all this in.

  “Well let’s hope you’re right,” she said at last. “But where do we go from here? How are we going to find her?”

  “I have a plan,” I said.

  “Okay, let’s hear it then.”

  “With Glen Crombie’s help I managed to narrow down the location where the accident occurred to about five miles of roadway. Cindy emerged from the trees from the west side of the road. As yet we don’t know how far she traveled before she got to the road, and we can’t be sure that she traveled by the shortest route from wherever she started. But let’s say we search the entire area – we draw a line five miles back from the road to the west. That’d give us twenty- five square miles to search.”

  “You think the sheriff will help us? Do they have the resources?”

  “We’re not going to ask him.”

  “We can’t possibly do it on our own – it’ll take forev
er.”

  “Not if we utilize our secret army,” I said.

  “Our secret…”

  “Tommy and Shakes will be chomping at the bit. The weekend’s upon us. I suggest that Jillian goes back to Springfield to organize it. Let’s say forty bikers covering a road five or six miles long. That’s one every one hundred and sixty yards; and I’ve been looking at the map – there are lots of lakes and reservoirs in the search area, so the land area is probably no more than twelve or thirteen square miles. It won’t take long at all, provided their bikes can handle the terrain. I suggest we set it up for Sunday. By Sunday night I’ll bet you a dime to a dollar we’ll know where Vicky came from that night.”

  “Let’s go down and talk to Jillian.” Lucy said. “I can’t wait to see her face when I tell her about our plan.”

  “So it’s gone from being highly speculative to being ‘our plan’ has it?” I said.

  “The search bit has nothing to do with the speculative bit,” Lucy said. “We’d have needed to search the area anyway. And don’t forget, when Shakes offered to help I was the one who was most enthusiastic about it.”

  “Okay, it’s ‘our plan’ then,” I said.

  Jillian was already eating breakfast when we went downstairs. She’d intended to go back to Springfield for the weekend in any case. As soon as Lucy told her about our plan she got on the phone to Shakes.

  “It’s time,” she said. “Search day is Sunday. Tell the boys to get their asses up to Clinton nice and early.”

  After breakfast I drove to the sheriff’s office. I needed to tell Benson to expect some visitors on Sunday.

  Kent Benson leaned back in his chair and grinned.

  “I’d better let everyone know, then,” he said, “so that they don’t think it’s some kind of invasion.”