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jerked Sam out of her
troubled thoughts. “The police?”
    “Yes. I’ve got a bad feeling. This patient
was eighty-six. Who gives consent for that kind of carnage on
behalf of someone who’s eighty-six? Something’s not right.”
    “I agree. Have you spoken to Max?” Sam
asked, referring to Hannah’s boss and the owner of the funeral
home.
    “Yes, but he barely listened. He doesn’t
care and he doesn’t want to get involved, particularly if it might
affect his business. A body’s a body as far as Max’s concerned.
‘There’s no bringing them back, so why worry about how they went
out?’ That’s Max’s motto.”
    “Empathetic right to the very end, isn’t
he?”
    “Yep, that’s Max,” Hannah responded, her
voice dry. She took another mouthful of beer and looked out across
the city. Thousands of twinkling lights from distant houses and
shop fronts lit up the night. She turned back to Sam. “How about
you? Have you noticed anything strange lately?”
    Sam frowned and shook her head. “Apart from
the rush of donor bodies last month, not really. But now that you
mention it, today I autopsied a woman who was missing all of her
major organs…but the tissues you mentioned were still there. I must
admit, at the time I found it a little strange that someone would
donate so many organs. It’s not the usual thing we see.”
    “Where did she come from?”
    “The Sydney Harbour Hospital.”
    “Who authorized the organ removal prior to
autopsy?”
    “Richard Davis.”
    “Have you spoken to him?”
    “No. I only conducted the PM this afternoon.
Staffing told me he was ill, along with a couple of others. That’s
the reason I was called in. I’m sure he wouldn’t take kindly to me
contacting him.”
    “What did Richard think about the sudden
increase in donors last month? I assume you spoke with him about
it.”
    “Yes, I did. I can’t remember exactly what
he said. He didn’t seem too concerned. I also mentioned it to my
brother, but he suggested it could simply be a response to the fact
we were in the middle of a harsh winter and that time of year, we
always experience an increase in the number of deaths and
correspondingly, an increase in the number of donor bodies. And of
course, there’s the success of his campaign to consider.”
    Sam pursed her lips in thought. “At the
time, his explanation seemed reasonable. Of course, I didn’t know
about what you were seeing at your work, and what you’re still
seeing.”
    Silence fell between them as they were once
again caught up in their thoughts, but this time, it was far from
easy. Sam finished her beer and set the bottle down on the small
cane table that squatted on the balcony between them. The breeze
had picked up and now had a distinct chill to it. She shivered and
hugged herself.
    “It’s cooling off. I might go in,” she said,
standing and then moving toward the sliding door.
    Hannah looked up at her with a troubled
expression. “I still think I should go to the police.”
    Sam stopped and turned. “And tell them
what?”
    “I don’t know! But something’s not right. I
can feel it in here,” Hannah said, placing a hand over her heart.
“I owe it to the deceased to make sure they’re treated with
respect, right to the very end. It’s my job to protect them, to
make sure that happens and right now, I’m horribly afraid it’s
not.”
    “We’re talking about people who were mostly
patients of the Sydney Harbour Hospital. What if my brother’s
involved?” Sam whispered, hardly daring to give the awful thought
voice.
    “We don’t know anything for sure.”
    “All of the cases that came to my attention
had Alistair noted as the surgeon,” she said, feeling more and more
concerned.
    “He’s the head surgeon, Sam. The fact that
his name was on a few cases doesn’t mean anything.”
    Relief surged through her. “Yes, you’re
right. I’m being silly. Of course Alistair’s not involved.”
    “The only way we’re going to find