and nurses did the same.
It took a few minutes for the police officers to identify the doctors and nurses found inside the clinic. When the detective entered the lounge and looked around, one of the officers walked over to the detective with a confused look on his face.
“I thought you said that the people working here at night were practicing without a license.”
The detective nodded. “That’s what I was told.”
The officer showed the detective several of the IDs from the detainees. “They all work here.”
“What?”
The officer pointed to the distinguished-looking man in the corner. “That’s Dr. Carl Black, the owner of the clinic. His portrait is in the lobby. The rest of the people are his employees.”
“I don’t understand,” the detective said, looking at his watch. “What are they doing here so late? It’s almost three in the morning!”
“They won’t say. They’ve all demanded to speak to their lawyers.”
The detective nodded. “Hold them here until we get this sorted out.”
His walkie-talkie crackled. “Detective? You’d better get back here to the operating rooms.”
When the detective arrived at the operating room where Wendy’s organs had been removed, he saw several officers puking in the sink on the far wall. Looking down at the trash bag, he saw Wendy’s remains and suddenly felt ill himself. It took a minute to realize what he was seeing, but when he checked the other operating rooms and saw the same grisly scene, he knew what was going on in that clinic late at night.
He turned when his lieutenant enter the room.
“What the hell is this?” the lieutenant demanded when he saw the remains of the four women. “This was supposed to be an illegal clinic.”
“It’s a chop shop,” the detective said hoarsely.
“A what?”
“A human chop shop. It’s the newest thing in human trafficking,” the detective replied, wiping his brow and mouth with his handkerchief. “Rather than girls – or boys – being kidnapped and sold into slavery, the victims are brought to clinics like this and harvested for their organs, tissues, anything that someone needs and is willing to pay for. A fit person can easily fetch between fifty and a hundred thousand dollars for parts on the black market, which is considerably more than he or she can be sold for to a slaver. The worst part,” he added, lowering his voice, “is that they’re harvested while still alive, and in many cases while still conscious.”
“Why?” the lieutenant asked, looking pale.
“Drugs get into the tissues, making them unusable. Since the victims are going to die anyway, they’re just paralyzed while the doctors start working on them. That’s what Dr. Black and his team were doing here tonight. It looks like they harvested four women. The organs are gone, but the remains are still here.”
“So instead of arresting people for trespassing and providing medical services without a license, we’re arresting the owner and the employees of the clinic for murder and black market organ harvesting?”
“Yes, sir,” the detective replied.
The lieutenant nodded. “Call in the Medical Examiner and a forensics team. I want to know how long this has been going on, and if there’s anything here that identifies those women, I want it found! I’ll notify Homicide. We’ll be turning this over to them. I imagine the Feds will want in on it, too.”
“Yes, sir.”
The lieutenant put his hand on the detective’s shoulder. “Good job tonight. It isn’t what we expected to find, but it’s good that this place is getting shut down.”
The lieutenant walked away. The detective reached for his phone to call in the Medical Examiner and a forensics team. I wonder how many other places like this there are.
3
Detective Jack Thrasher arrived at the clinic just as the sky began to lighten in the east. He was taking over the murder investigation of Wendy Mitchell and the three other women. The forensics team was already there, tearing the clinic apart and looking for evidence about the four murdered women and any other victims who might have been butchered by Dr. Black and his staff.
Jack entered the operating room just as the Medical Examiner staff placed Wendy’s remains in a body bag.
“Morning, Jack,” the senior Medical Examiner staff member said when he saw the detective enter.
“Bob, how’s the family?” Jack responded.
“Doing fine. Growing like weeds.” Pointing to the body bag, Bob added, “You catch the case?”
Jack nodded. “What can you tell me?”
“She died horribly. There’s no way to tell how many organs they had removed before she finally lost consciousness or died, but I can’t imagine anything like what she and the others went through tonight.”
“So she was conscious while it happened?” Jack shuddered at the implication.
“I’ll know for certain once we get her on the table, but it fits the M.O. of other cases like this that we’ve seen.” He pointed across the room, “They have gas, but I found no needle marks anywhere. We’ll take the gas cylinders and test them, but I’ll bet at least one of them is a paralyzing agent. Most drugs make the tissues unusable.”
“Do we have an ID on the victims yet?”
Bob nodded. “Crime scene techs found their personal belongings a few minutes ago. Cash is gone, but jewelry and everything else is being bagged as evidence.”
Jack dreaded making the notification to the families of these four women. It’s bad enough to tell them that a loved one died, but to have to tell them that they died like this…
“Call me when you’ve finished the autopsy,” Jack said.
“Will do,” Bob acknowledged.
Jack turned to leave the room. “Say ‘hi’ to Cindy for me.”
“Thanks, I will.” Bob finished prepping Wendy’s remains to load into the truck as Jack walked away.
Jack entered the lounge where the officers had detained Dr. Black and his staff.
“Howdy, Jack,” several of the officers said, recognizing him.
“Morning, fellows.” Jack gestured toward the medical staff. “Have they said anything?”
“Not a word.”
“Do we know where the van went after it left just before the raid?”
“Not yet, but the Intel Unit is reviewing traffic camera footage to see if we can get a license plate and a direction.”
Jack made a notation in his notepad app to follow up with the Intel Unit. “All right. Keep me posted. In the meantime, start transporting these butchers to jail and get them booked on murder charges. I want to talk to each of them once their lawyers arrive.”
“Will do.”
Jack spent the rest of the morning working with the Intel Unit’s video techs looking for traces of the van that left the clinic, and making the notifications to the next of kin of the four murdered women. That afternoon, he interviewed Dr. Black and his staff, but the lawyers gave the same answer to every question. “My client declines to answer that question.”
By the next morning, the video techs had located the van on traffic camera footage, but the license plate was a fake, and the van’s destination couldn’t be determined. Two days later, sheriff’s deputies found a van of the same make and model on a country road outside of town. It had been bleached and