Page 39 of Ground Truth

Flint found the address for the local police station in the nav system and pushed the start button.

“I’m on it,” Drake said and applied his expertise to driving the short trip.

As they moved through the residential streets, Flint thumbed through more of the data Gaspar had sent. He located the reports completed by the detectives investigating Ella Belle Reed’s murder and scanned the pages, reading aloud for Drake’s benefit.

“Home invasion. Both Ella Belle and Phillip were home. He’d fallen asleep on the sofa in the den watching football. She was in the kitchen cleaning up after dinner.”

“How convenient.” Drake frowned. “This guy led a charmed life, didn’t he? When’s the last time anybody made you dinner and then cleaned up alone while you took a nap?”

“Maybe they alternated the kitchen duty. Who knows?” Flint shook his head and kept scanning, repeating the points of interest aloud. “An unidentified perpetrator broke in the front door while they were in the back of the house. Climbed the stairs to the bedroom where they kept a safe in the closet. The safe was open. He grabbed jewelry and cash and fled. Happened to be bounding down the stairs just as Ella Belle was coming up.”

“So just a lucky guess that there was a safe and it had jewelry and cash in it and it would be open and waiting? How does that happen?” Drake asked.

“Intruder shot her twice. Because of the angle, her on the stairs and him trying to get down, one bullet hit her in the groin.”

“That’s not an easy shot. Does sound like a fluke.”

“He shoved her aside and kept running.” Flint continued reading a bit and then said, “By the time Phillip realized the invasion was happening and came to his wife’s aid, the intruder was gone and she was bleeding profusely.”

Solemnly, Drake said, “I’ll bet. Hit the femoral artery, she bleeds out quick.”

“Right. He called 911 and commenced first aid.” Flint kept scanning. “She was still alive when the ambulance arrived. He hopped into the ambulance with her.”

“He’s a doctor. He should have been able to help,” Drake said. “She’s lucky he was there.”

“Possibly. But she died before the ambulance reached the hospital,” Flint said, still scanning and pulling out the most relevant facts.

“Meaning her organs were fresh enough for harvesting and could be immediately donated.” Drake’s lip curled and he took a quick left at the next corner. “Man, this guy’s a piece of work.”

“Looks like heart, lungs, liver, two kidneys, two corneas. Maybe more,” Flint said, scrolling down the list.

“Wonder how much money the good doctor made selling those seven organs,” Drake mused.

“Technically, he didn’t sell the organs. He donated them,” Flint reminded him.

“Yeah, but he got paid to do the transplant surgeries, I’ll bet. Even grieving doctors don’t work for free,” Drake replied.

“Not to mention the expense of hospital and staff involved in seven transplants,” Flint said. “Had to be well over five million dollars. Probably paid by insurance or the government.”

Drake’s jaw dropped. “You’re kidding.”

“Last time I checked this out for a client, a heart transplant was more than $1.6 million. Probably costs more now,” Flint replied. “Double lungs, another million. Kidneys are about half a million each. Liver’s probably cheaper. Maybe a hundred grand. Corneas about thirty grand each. So yeah, around five million. Just ballparking.”

“But close to that much, you’re saying.” Drake turned the SUV into the parking lot.

The three-story building that housed the local police station looked old but solid. Probably the majority of operations had been moved to a newer facility at some point. This one would be used for special purposes, Flint figured.

The parking lot wasn’t large enough and Drake had to wait for another vehicle to leave. He backed into the space and turned off the ignition.

“Lucky break for Dr. Reed, wouldn’t you say?” Drake asked. “He lost his wife, but he made a pile of money.”

“Yeah, and doing one or more of the transplants himself, right after his wife was murdered like that? Wonder how heartbroken he actually was,” Flint mused aloud, scanning the bustling activity around the station. “Are they giving out money here today or something?”

Drake shook his head. “Looks like this place serves a mixed economic neighborhood now. I tried to stay out of trouble when I was a student, but I hear more crime has moved in since then.”

“Let’s go talk to the detectives at the closest station to the crime. Even if they handed the case off, they’d have been first on the scene. See what we can find out,” Flint said.

“You know, Phillip Reed wouldn’t be the first man to fake a home invasion to kill his wife. People in that financial league usually have high life insurance policies that pay out the max death benefit for a murder like that, too,” Drake said. “But selling her organs? That’s not something I’ve heard of before. You?”

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