Tanya Huff - Blood 05 by Blood Debt

Author:Blood Debt [Debt, Blood]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2011-02-15T22:51:46.083000+00:00

Suppressing the urge to remain in the apartment in case Mrs. Munro returned while he was gone, Celluci locked up and headed for the elevator. The sooner they solved this thing, the sooner they could go home and get on with their lives.

Their theory about those responsible for Henry's ghost had been off base. Unfortunately, now that they knew organized crime wasn't involved, that left only a couple million potential suspects. Maybe a few less if the gangs were growing as fast as the media reported.

Of course, it also left Ronald Swanson. Multimillionaire philanthropist, bereaved husband, and all around nice guy.

The elevator arrived almost instantly.

Vicki insisted they continue to assume organ-legging. Since the police hadn't yet identified the corpse, it seemed obvious he hadn't lost that kidney through conventional surgery. Since they knew he'd lost it locally, organ-legging was beginning to make more sense. And the motive for removing the organ? That was the only easy answer. Profit.

So maybe we should look for a Ferengi, he snorted as he pushed the button for the parking garage.

The ghost's garage band T-shirt said he'd lived, and died, in the immediate area. Since he hadn't yet been identified, he was obviously someone who wouldn't be missed. Unfortunately, the immediate area offered a wide choice of potential donors. As Tony'd pointed out, a West Coast winter beat freezing to death in Toronto or Edmonton.

Since the transplant centers weren't involved, a private clinic had to be—those willing to buy organs would, no doubt, draw the line at having body parts hacked out in someone's basement. There were a page and a half of clinics listed in the Vancouver Yellow Pages, but sixteen of them could be immediately disregarded as he very much doubted there was a holistic way to remove a kidney. The Vancouver Vein Clinic had been intriguing but not as much as a quarter-page ad promising live blood cell analysis. An accompanying photo showed a smiling woman with long dark hair, obviously someone very happy with her blood. He couldn't decide whether he should mention it to Vicki or leave well enough alone.

A balding man in a golf shirt and white pants got on at the third floor. Celluci nodded, noted the Rolex and the expensive aftershave, then assumed elevator position—his gaze locked on nothing about halfway up the doors.

The list of buyers with the right combination of need, cash, and willingness to keep their mouths shut would necessarily be finite. It would, therefore, be inefficient to pick up a random drifter and hope for a match. They'd need some kind of medical information.

Stepping out into the parking garage, he walked toward the imposing bulk of the van, listening to the echoes as he tossed his keys from hand to hand.

There was a street clinic in East Vancouver that seemed to serve a less-than-upscale neighborhood and offered, according to their ad, HIV testing.

It was a place to start.

He closed the van door and adjusted the mirror, trying not to think of a load of wet laundry and how well the dark seats would hide stains.

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