Plain Wrong Read online

  “I always feel safe no matter where I am. I’d rather not be here, but I feel that I must stay. We need to get to the bottom of this and it’s much easier if I’m here,” Ettie said.

  Detective Crowley frowned and glanced at Maureen. “These things are best left to professionals. I’ve got enough to go on from here; thanks to you two.”

  “Let us know if you want our help with anything else,” Maureen said.

  “One more thing, Maureen. You didn’t make your questions too obvious, did you? We don’t want to arouse suspicion.”

  “I happened to overhear a conversation. They laughed about her being married to a funeral director.” Maureen stood straight and held her chin high.

  “Excellent; that was a stroke of luck,” Crowley said.

  Ettie looked at him through narrowed eyes. “Luck, detective?”

  “Yes, I forgot; you ladies always find help from on high.” Crowley stood up.

  Ettie and Maureen shot each other a smile.

  “If you two ladies will excuse me, I’ll go and do some research.”

  “I appreciate everything you’re doing, Crowley, thank you,” Ettie said.

  “Before you go, Detective,” Maureen said as the detective was nearly out the door.

  “Yes?” He swiveled on his heel.

  “The reason the ladies were giggling about the funeral parlor and the nurse marrying the funeral director was something to do with selling body organs. Does that mean anything to you?”

  The detective took a giant step toward Maureen. “What did they say?”

  “Just that; that’s all I heard. The nurse married the funeral director, and they said that he’s probably involved with selling body organs; and something about having spare parts to sell. At first, they were saying she was sending her mistakes there, and he was getting extra business; then they talked about the body parts.”

  “I see.”

  “What is it?” Ettie said pushing herself up onto her elbows. “What does it all mean?”

  The detective sighed. “I had begun to think it might be illegal black-market trade in body parts, but I didn’t want to mention it to you ladies. I read something of it recently in one of the police journals. There was an arrest of a funeral director illegally obtaining body organs and selling them to people who were on waiting lists for organ transplants.” He looked at the two widows then continued, “There’s a shortage of organs and when people die and they have nominated their organs can be used after their death, someone on the transplant list can get a cornea or a kidney, maybe a heart.”

  Ettie nodded. “And you think that’s what could be happening here? When they have too long to wait they look at illegal means of getting what they need?”

  “I hope not, but due to the amount of money involved it is becoming more wide spread. I’m certain I read that a kidney can be sold for as much as $180,000. When someone’s facing death, all perspective of money goes out the window. There would be some people who’d be prepared to do anything to extend their life.” The detective scratched his chin. “Then there are people who are willing to facilitate obtaining the organs and these unscrupulous people profit highly from doing so.”

  “What are you thinking, Detective? If we’re on the trail of something like that then the nurse, her brother and her new husband could be in something together,” Maureen said.

  Ettie put her hand against her head. “Ach, that’s horrid. I never knew of the existence of such technology.”

  “It’s amazing what they can do, Ettie and unfortunately there’s always going to be people who will take advantage of another’s pain.” Without another word, Crowley left the room.

  Ettie was silent.

  “What is it, Ettie?” Maureen asked.

  “Which nurses were you speaking to?”

  “I was speaking to a young one I haven’t seen before and an older one with a cranky face.”

  “The older one with the cranky face would be nurse Bush. Was the younger nurse Melanie McBride?”

  Maureen’s gaze shot to the ceiling. “Nurse McBride is the young one who comes in every morning, isn’t she?”

  “Jah, the pretty young nurse; she’s always happy.”

  “Nee she wasn’t the one I was talking to.”

  Ettie tapped her finger on her chin. “Nurse McBride gave me Hadley’s name and told me about the people who died. Why didn’t Melanie ever mention that Hadley had just married a funeral director or that her brother was a doctor here?”

  “Maybe she didn’t want to get too involved?”

  Ettie pressed her lips together, and her eyebrows drew closer. “I suspect there might be another reason that nurse McBride gave me just a drop of information.”

  Hurrying to sit on the chair next to Ettie’s bed, Maureen asked, “What are you thinking? She seems such a lovely girl. You don’t think she’s involved with all this business, do you?”

  Ettie’s brow furrowed. “I don’t know – yet.”

  Chapter 9.

  To every thing there is a season,

  and a time to every purpose under the heaven:

  A time to be born, and a time to die; a time to plant,

  and a time to pluck up that which is planted;

  Ecclesiastes 3:1

  Crowley rubbed his chin. How could he obtain a warrant from a judge to search the funeral parlor? He would sound unprofessional to speak of black-market body parts, hospital rumors, the newly married nurse and the midnight injection. Put all those elements together and to Crowley that was enough to get a warrant, but to a judge that was a different matter. Judges did not endorse warrants on hunches or suspicions of the police. He had to have more.

  Once Crowley reached his car in the hospital car park, he knew what he had to do. He had to have Milton Morcombe agree to an autopsy. If Milton signed a document allowing one, the paramedics could take Judith’s body from the funeral parlor to a medical examiner. Yes, that will work, but it will need to be done quickly.

  Crowley sped back to his office to get Milton’s home address. Once he had it, he sat in his office wondering how he could convince Milton to allow an autopsy of his mother’s body when days ago he had decided against one. What would it take for Milton to change his mind? Maureen’s wide smile came into Crowley’s mind.

  If anyone could talk someone into doing something, it would be Maureen with her charming smile and easy manner. Standard protocol would demand he take a policewoman from his station if he wanted a more gentle approach. Crowley opted with his gut instinct; he would have Maureen accompany him to speak with Milton Morcombe.

  Before Crowley did another thing, he searched for the article on black-market body parts that he had recently seen. He opened the large bottom drawer where he kept his police journals. They were organized by date; they were not filed alphabetically. Crowley considered having someone come in and rearrange his filing system as he sifted through the selection of papers.

  When he found the article, he leaned back in his chair. Scanning down to the middle of the article, he read:

  In February 2013, Compton, the owner of a Philadelphia crematorium pleaded guilty to illegal tissue and an organ harvesting.

  Prosecutors said that the defendant provided the president of Biochemical Research Laboratories with 188 corpses for just under $200,000.

  Compton pleaded guilty to criminal conspiracy by the illegal taking and selling of corpses connected to a tissue and organ-harvesting scheme.

  There was more to the article, but that was enough for Crowley. He filed it back into his drawer and turned his attention to his computer. He did a general Internet search on illegal organ harvesting and found:

  In the past victims of criminal forced organ harvesting were routinely executed with a shot to the head before their organs were harvested. Later, an injection method was developed wherein the victim would be given an injection that would paralyze their body, thus yielding organs in better condition for transplantation.

  Internationa
l human rights lawyer, James Pinto, investigated forced organ harvesting in China was quoted by a major newspaper saying that, “They are not killing by injection, they are harvesting the organs of the body while that body is paralyzed, but still legally alive.”

  When he read about the paralyzing injection, Crowley was more sure that Ettie was onto something. The nurse could well have given Judith Morcombe an injection to paralyze her. He moved on to another Internet search to read:

  In the United States, the sale of body organs is illegal as in most countries of the world. A chronic shortage of legal transplant organs has led to a thriving black-market organ trade Internationally. Often donors from Third World countries are offered thousands of dollars in exchange for organs that are then sold on for a larger profit to wealthy recipients, more often than not the recipients are from the First World. There have been reports that donors from Third World countries who have sold a kidney for the promise of large sums have not been paid.

  There was a photo accompanying the article of four men from a Third World country showing scars from their operations. The same four men claim they were each promised $1,500. - $2,000. but they were never paid.

  Crowley ripped off the sheet of paper with Milton’s address and shoving it in his pocket he headed out of the police station. He hoped that Maureen would agree to go with him.

  Once Crowley was back in Ettie’s hospital room, he was relived to see that Maureen was still there.

  After he asked Maureen to go with him to talk to Milton, she said, “I don’t know the man, Detective. I’ve never met him. I think I noticed him visiting his mother, but I never spoke to him.”

  Ettie interrupted, “See what you can do, Maureen. He’s a very nice man and tell him I said hello.”

  Maureen shrugged her shoulders. “I’ll see what I can do. I’ll help if I can.”

  “Good. We’ve not much time to waste,” Crowley said as he marched toward the door.

  * * *

  Just as Maureen and the detective left Ettie alone, bishop Paul and his wife Mary came to visit. It was comforting for Ettie to see the bishop with his dark, bushy beard and the small Mary with her sweet smile.

  “It’s lovely that you’ve both come to see me,” Ettie said pleased to have visitors now she was feeling better.

  Mary sat in the chair next to Ettie’s bed, and bishop Paul took a chair from the other side of the room and placed it next to his wife.

  The bishop’s wife took Ettie’s hand. “You’re in our prayers.”

  “Denke.”

  “Elsa-May told us you were in here,” bishop Paul said as he looked around the room.

  “Hospitals are my least favorite place; it’s gut to see some familiar faces,” Ettie said.

  “You’ve not had many visitors then?” the bishop asked.

  “Jah, I have. I just miss being at home, and I miss my dog Ginger. I miss being outside; I haven’t been outside for days.”

  “How long do you think you’ll be in here?” Mary asked.

  Ettie thought of Judith dying and how she wanted to get out of the hospital as fast as she possibly could. She could not tell either of them about what happened; they would not want to be entangled with the problems of the world. Ettie smiled at Mary. “Not much longer, I’m certain of that.”

  “We will miss you at the gatherings,” the bishop said.

  Their conversation was strained. Ettie knew that they were doing their duty in visiting her; after all, they weren’t her close friends, they were Elsa-May’s friends. The bishop’s wife was most likely Elsa-May’s closest friend in the community. Ettie felt that she never had much in common with the bishop’s fraa.

  After an awkward silence, the bishop said, “Is there anything we can get you?”

  “Nee. Elsa-May comes in every day, so do Maureen and Bailey. Emma comes in too, but not as often.” Ettie realized she forgot her manners. “Would you like some tea? There’s a visitors’ room not far away. You can make some tea and bring it back here.”

  Bishop Paul said he’d fetch the tea, and he left Mary to talk to Ettie.

  “You do look a little pale, Ettie.”

  “I’ve been quite sick. They say pneumonia is quite serious. Doctor says I’m out of the danger zone now.”

  “Do your kinner know? Wilhelm is going to Ohio tomorrow, and he can let them know.” Wilhelm was one of Paul and Mary’s sons.

  “Nee, it would only worry them; no need to cause them concern. They’d make a trip here for nothing. I’d be out of hospital and home before they even arrived. I’d rather they not know. Although, I know, they’ll hear about it soon.” It never took long for news to spread between communities.

  The bishop came through the door clutching three mugs of steaming, hot tea. He set them down on the metal set of drawers next to Ettie. “Do you have milk, Ettie? I’ll go back and fetch some if you do.”

  “Nee, I’ll have it as it comes.” After they all had a mouthful of tea, Ettie said, “Tea-bags just don’t taste the same, do they?”

  The bishop and his wife murmured their agreements.

  Half an hour of forced conversation later, the bishop and his fraa said goodbye to Ettie and left. Ettie was grateful for their visit and their prayers; she would need their prayers now she was staying longer in the hospital.

  Chapter 10.

  And whatsoever ye do, do it heartily,

  as to the Lord, and not unto men;

  Colossians 3:23

  Twenty minutes after they left the hospital, Maureen and detective Crowley were at the home of Milton Morcombe. After Crowley told him who they were, Milton asked them inside.

  “I’m sorry to arrive without calling you first.” Crowley apologized for not being truthful with him when he phoned earlier. He told Milton the whole story surrounding the midnight injection, the nurse, the recent marriage of the suspected nurse to the funeral director and the hospital rumors. Then Crowley approached the subject of an autopsy.

  “I don’t know. She’s due to be cremated tomorrow,” Milton said.

  Maureen leaned forward toward him. “Milton, if what the detective suspects is correct, do you think your mother would want you to find out what happened?”

  Milton nervously drummed his fingers on his dining room table. “She missed her cats. All she wanted was to come home and be with them.”

  Crowley and Maureen glanced at each other.

  “One thing my mother hated was injustice. She couldn’t see a person disadvantaged even on a television show.” He tipped his head upward and blinked back tears. “What do you want me to do?”

  Crowley said, “Once you sign these documents that will give me the authority to have an autopsy performed. Naturally we hope that nothing untoward has happened, but if it has we need to track down those responsible.”

  Milton put his hand out for the papers. “I suppose that’s what mother would want.”

  Once Milton signed the document, Crowley and Maureen left Milton’s house and made their way to the funeral parlor. “When we get there, don’t get out of the car. By the time we arrive, there’ll be ambulance and police cars waiting.”

  Just as he said, there was one ambulance and three police cars waiting when they arrived at the funeral home. He hoped that Mr. Hadley would not have had time to destroy evidence, although without a search warrant all Crowley could do was take Judith’s body away.

  “Don’t be concerned with me, Detective. I’m happy to wait here.”

  “I’ll see you in a few minutes, Maureen.” Crowley left his car and marched to the door, followed by four police officers.

  A balding man in his sixties opened the door. “We’re closed; I’m sorry.” He went to shut the door, but Crowley wedged his foot in it. The man looked down at Crowley’s foot and then looked up at his face. “What’s all this about?”

  “Are you Mr. Hadley?”

  “Yes.”

  Crowley showed the piece of paper. “I’ve got an order to take the body of Judith Morc
ombe.”

  “No. We’ve got the rights to her cremation. You can’t take her.”

  Crowley waved the paper in the air. “I’m afraid this overrules whatever instruction you’ve had. I can always get a warrant and search this place top to bottom and take Mrs. Morcombe’s body. Is that what you’d prefer?”

  Hadley stared at Crowley and then stepped aside. The four police officers followed Crowley inside; two paramedics with a stretch were close behind. Hadley had no choice but to show them directly to Judith’s body.

  When Judith’s body was safely out of the building, Crowley turned to Mr. Hadley. “There will be police officers watching this place. Don’t think about doing anything stupid.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You still haven’t told me what any of this is about.”

  Crowley ignored him, turned and walked back to his car. “Well, that’s done,” he said to Maureen. “Now, I just wait for a phone call to tell us what the autopsy reveals.”

  Maureen’s eyes grew wide. “What happened?”

  “Hadley was not happy to see us. He said he did not know the whereabouts of his wife.” Crowley breathed out heavily. “Anyway, we can’t make any arrests until we find out what the autopsy reveals. The way he acted, I know that he’s guilty of something. Now, Maureen, can I drive you home or would you like me to take you back to the hospital?”

  Maureen looked up at the nearly dark sky. “Could you take me home, Detective?”

  “You caught a taxi to the hospital?”

  “Yes, it’s too far for the buggy.” Maureen glanced over at Crowley. “You look worried, Detective.”

  “I’ve taken a punt and I’m hoping it pays off. I couldn’t have gotten a warrant with no solid information, but if what you overheard is correct, Judith’s body will be evidence enough.”

  “Milton said that his mother was due to be cremated tomorrow.”

  Crowley raised his eyebrows. “Yes; that will have to be delayed now.”