The Body Thief (28 page)

Sam smiled a little ruefully at the way her
imagination had run away with itself. Rohan had only just made his
declaration of love. It was a far cry from a proposal. She had no
idea how he felt about marriage, about kids—about anything. She had
a lot to discover; they had a lot to work through, but knowing they
could do it together, with love and respect, was all she needed to
know.

A brief knock on her half-open office door
snagged her attention and she looked up in time to see Richard
enter the room. She frowned momentarily, but then smiled in
greeting. “What are you doing here? I didn’t realize you were on
call this weekend.”

Richard didn’t respond. Sam took in his
appearance and her smile slowly faded. He was pale and trembling,
and it looked as if he were trying not to break down. Concern
surged through her and fear clutched at her heart.

“What is it, Richard? What’s wrong?”

“Oh, Sam! You haven’t heard?”

“Heard what?”

“Dreadful. Just dreadful. I can’t believe
it.”

“Believe what, Richard?” Panic edged her
voice. “What happened?”

A sob escaped Richard’s lips and Sam lost
her patience. Her tone was sharper than she intended when she
pressed, “For goodness sake, Richard! Tell me what happened!”

Her words had the desired effect. He stopped
mid-sob and blinked. “Oh, Sam! It’s… It’s Phillip!”

Icy dread took residence in Sam’s belly. Her
heart took off at a gallop and she had to concentrate to hear over
the sound of her blood as it rushed through her ears.

“What about Phillip?” she said, amazed that
she could sound so calm when inside she was a frenzy of panic.

“He-he was in an accident. On his way home
yesterday. Nobody really knows what happened. There was no other
vehicle involved. The police are still examining the scene, trying
to work out how his vehicle collided with a tree.”

Sam sucked in a breath and worked hard to
control her breathing. Just because Phillip had been in an accident
didn’t mean he was seriously injured. Almost immediately, she
corrected her thought process. Of course he was injured. Richard
wouldn’t be a sniveling mess if their colleague had walked away
unscathed. She forced herself to ask the question.

“How… How is he?”

Richard shook his head, as if he were
struggling to form the words. “He’s… Sam… He’s dead.”

Another bout of sobbing overwhelmed him, but
she barely noticed. The noise in her ears escalated until it
blocked out everything else.
Phillip was dead.
He’d been
killed in a car accident. She’d never joke with him, laugh with
him, argue with him again.

He was dead. His wife had lost her husband.
His daughters had lost their dad. On the night of Zoe’s
graduation.

Another thought struck Sam and she gasped
aloud from the pain.
It was all her fault!
She’d sent him
home early. She was the reason he’d been in his vehicle at that
infinitesimal point in time. If he’d left at his usual time, he
might have made it. He might even now be making coffee and moaning
about the day ahead. There was no disputing it: She was the reason
he was dead.

“Where is he?” she asked in a voice so dull
and lifeless she hardly recognized it.

Richard hiccupped on another sob. “He’s
here. In the fridge.”

Sam drew in a breath, but it came out as a
howl of pain. She collapsed onto her desk. With her head on her
arms, she sobbed so hard she didn’t know if she’d ever be able to
stop. Phillip was dead and it was all her fault. The thought kept
going round and round in her mind.

Fresh pain overwhelmed her and she howled
out her agony again. It wasn’t fair. A few minutes ago, she’d been
on top of the world, her every molecule bursting with happiness.
Now it felt like a cement block had taken up residence in her
chest. Every breath was snatched through lungs so tight, she felt
like she might suffocate. The very next breath might be her last
and right at that moment, she’d welcome the relief.

“Sam? Are you all right? Sam?”

It was Richard. His tone was tentative,
scared—as if he wasn’t sure how to approach her, or even
if
.
She dragged in a deep breath and made a mammoth effort to pull
herself together. She lifted her head. Her eyes were hot and
swollen. No doubt she looked a mess. From the reaction on Richard’s
face when he looked at her, it wasn’t far from the truth.

“Why is he here?” she rasped. “Is there some
question about how he died?”

Richard fidgeted and looked away. Sam
frowned. “What is it? Tell me what’s wrong? Why does Phillip
require an autopsy?”

“His insurance company wants to rule out
suicide. They also want to know if there were drugs or alcohol
involved. Apparently if they can prove contributory negligence it
reduces their liability.”

Sam shook her head, aghast. “Suicide? Drugs?
You have to be kidding! We’re talking about Phillip! He was the
cleanest-living man I knew! And as for suicide—the reason he left
early was to attend his daughter’s college graduation! He was so
proud of her. We talked about how he had plans to travel with his
wife once their kids were off their hands. His plans weren’t those
of a man on the brink of ending his life!”

“You and I know him, Sam. It’s different for
outsiders. All they know is he’s a client with a hefty life
insurance policy and that life has just come to a very sudden and
perhaps suspicious end.”

Sam stared at the blank computer screen in
front of her and tried to calm her scattered thoughts. Shock still
rendered her largely immobile, but she couldn’t sit at her desk all
day, reliving her last hours with her friend. She’d go absolutely
stark raving mad if she did. Phillip was gone and there was no
bringing him back. Death was final. She knew that better than
most.

“Who’s doing the PM?” she asked, her voice
still dull.

“I-I’m not sure. I haven’t yet spoken to the
coroner.”

“If it’s all right with him, I’ll do
it.”

“Sam, I don’t think that’s a good idea.
You’re upset. You and Phillip were friends. I think—”

“I want to do it, Richard. I want to do it
for Phillip. It’s the least I can do. Please,” she begged.

He frowned in indecision and moved from one
foot to the other. At last, he sighed. “I’ll speak to the coroner.
He’ll make the final decision.”

She nodded. “Thank you.”

“I’m not promising he’ll agree…”

“It’s okay. I understand. Just do what you
can.”

He stared at her a moment longer and then
quietly took his leave. Sam held her head in her hands and tried to
come to terms with the fact her friend and colleague was dead.

She wasn’t sure how long she sat at her
desk, but the next thing she knew Richard appeared before her again
and told her she had permission to conduct the autopsy on Phillip
Bond. Having cried herself out long ago, Sam merely nodded.

Richard disappeared from her field of vision
and she took a moment to firm up her resolve. It would be her final
farewell, a way she could say good-bye. Phillip had hated the
thought of ending up in the Glebe Morgue. The least she could do
was make it as quick and painless as possible—for both of them.

Pushing away from her desk, Sam stood and
made her way to the change rooms. Peeling off her clothes, she
dressed in scrubs and headed over to the fridge. Bracing herself
for what was to come, she located Phillip, lying in a blue plastic
body bag on one of the shelves. She wheeled him to the autopsy
suite, all the while speaking to him in low tones. It helped her to
think he could hear her and he was aware of this final act of
friendship.

She removed the body bag and let out a
little gasp because he lay as cold and lifeless as all the other
bodies she dealt with every day. Forcing her brain into work mode,
she prepared to conduct the PM.

Picking up a scalpel, she moved closer to
the body. Her gaze drifted over him and she frowned. A recent
incision had been made from the top of his sternum to his groin.
She stared at it in disbelief, refusing to accept what it
meant.

No!
It couldn’t be! Phillip wasn’t an
organ donor! He hated the very thought of it and so did his wife.
Maree would
never
have given her consent. Sam recalled the
conversation she’d had with him when he’d told her how strongly he
and his wife were against it. They had their reasons and that was
fine. Sam couldn’t even imagine what could have changed Maree’s
mind.

With a growing sense of dread, she reopened
the incision and parted Phillip’s chest. With gloved fingers, she
felt inside. She located his heart and sagged with relief and then
explored a little more. His lungs were missing. Liver, kidneys and
pancreas were also gone.

A keening wail reverberated in her head and
it was a long moment before she realized the sound was coming from
her mouth. Clenching her jaw, she snatched quick breaths and did
her best to get her panic under control. She pulled off her gloves
and searched in the paperwork for the name of the doctor who had
obtained the consent.

Alistair’s name was printed in large, bold
black letters right below the indecipherable signature of the next
of kin. Sam stared at the form in shock and horror. Something was
terribly, horribly wrong. She needed to find out what and who and
how or she’d never have a moment’s peace again. She owed that to
Phillip.

Leaving Phillip on the table, she peeled off
her mask and gloves and headed out of the autopsy suite. She rushed
back to her office and dug out her phone from her handbag. Dialing
her brother’s number, she prayed he’d answer.

“Sam! How are you? Why are you calling me so
early? I’ve barely finished my morning coffee.”

He sounded so cheery, so normal. It was the
antithesis to how she felt. If her growing suspicions were correct,
she’d never feel normal again.

“Alistair, I’m calling about Phillip! I’m
here with him, in the morgue.”

His tone immediately sobered. “Hell, I’m
sorry, sis. He came in late yesterday afternoon. I should have
called you, but I didn’t realize for a while that it was him. He
was…a little messed up. There was blood everywhere.”

“Who signed the consent?” she demanded.

“The consent?”

“Yes!” she shouted impatiently. “The organ
donation consent! Which of Phillip’s relatives signed it?”

“Um… I’m not sure.”

“You were the one who witnessed the
signature, Alistair. I assume you remember which family member you
convinced to sign it.”

She was met with silence. Her breath
continued to come fast. The silence stretched and all at once, she
had the most terrible sense of foreboding. It was so awful, it
snatched her breath and tightened her chest with fear. Adrenaline
flooded her bloodstream and she could barely hear over the sound of
it rushing through her ears.

“Oh, God! You didn’t obtain a consent, did
you? You’ve forged a signature to make it appear that way.” Her
tone turned deadly and her white-hot anger morphed into burning
ice. “I’m right, aren’t I?”

“Of course I didn’t!” Alistair blustered,
but all of a sudden she knew with certainty that he wasn’t telling
the truth.

“Phillip was absolutely against organ
donation and so was his wife,” she exclaimed. “We argued over it
more than once. He was adamant. He’d cut open enough people over
the course of his career, he didn’t want that for himself. But now
he’s here, lying in the morgue, with most of his major organs gone.
There’s no way you’ll convince me his next of kin overrode his
wishes and signed that damned consent form.”

“What do you want me to say, Sam?” Alistair
shouted, anger and irritation in his voice. “He came in
unconscious, dead but for the life support. His next of kin gave
the consent.”

“Who?” she fired at him again, her hands
clenched into fists.

“I don’t know! His wife, I guess. I do this
shit every day, Sam. Do you have any idea how many grieving
relatives I speak to, trying to convince them to do the right
thing? I can’t remember all of them.”

“The right thing?” she managed, her voice
strangled with disbelief. “For who? For you and me, maybe, but we
believe in the benefits of organ donation. Many people don’t! Their
rights need to be respected! It’s not up to you to decide, no
matter how much you might think it is!”

“Do you know how many transplants would
occur in this country if I didn’t?” he yelled. “I’m the reason so
many people have been given another chance at life. I might not be
able to give Mom my kidney, but I’m going to die trying to find her
one.”

Sam gasped and doubled over as pain wracked
her from head to toe. She wasn’t sure, but she thought her brother
might have just admitted to fudging records to achieve his goal.
There was no way she’d ever believe the consent had come from
Maree.

“You
knew
Phillip didn’t want to be
an organ donor!” she sobbed. “We talked about it on my birthday,
remember? You knew it and yet, you still went ahead! Please,
Alistair,” she sobbed harder. “Please tell me you didn’t forge
Maree’s signature?”

It was a long moment later before he finally
deigned to reply. “Wake up, Samantha. The world isn’t always such a
nice place. We all do what we have to. It’s just the way it
is.”

Rohan looked at the nurse who sat across
from him and prepared to pose the questions that he’d put to all
the staff members he’d interviewed before her. The answers were
beginning to sound monotonously the same. So far, he didn’t have
anything of substance that pointed toward Doctor Alistair Wolfe’s
guilt and the knowledge irritated him to hell. This nurse was the
third last one on his list. He could only hope she’d offer him
something useful. Clearing his throat, he asked the woman the
standard opening questions: name; address, date of birth and then
moved on.