The In Death Collection Books 6-10 - J. D. Robb [267]
Organ donating and brokering were still popular. And she thought there was something about organ building as well, though she paid little attention to medical news and reports.
She distrusted doctors.
Some of the very rich didn’t care for the idea of a manufactured implant, she assumed. A human heart or kidney from a young accident victim could command top prices, but it had to be in prime condition. Nothing about Snooks was prime.
She wrinkled her nose against the stench, but leaned closer. When a woman detested hospitals and health centers as much as she did, the faintly sick smell of antiseptic sent the nostrils quivering.
She caught it here, just a trace, then frowning, sat back on her heels.
Her prelim exam told her the victim had died at 0:2:10, given the outside temperature through the night. She’d need the blood work and tox reports to know if there’d been drugs in his system, but she could already see that he’d been a brew guzzler.
The typical brown refillable bottle used to transport home brew was tucked in the corner, nearly empty. She found a small, almost pitiful stash of illegals. One thin, hand-rolled joint of Zoner, a couple of pink capsules that were probably Jags, and a small, filthy bag of white powder she assumed after a sniff was Grin laced with a whiff of Zeus.
There were telltale spiderwebs of broken blood vessels over his dented face, obvious signs of malnutrition, and the scabs of what was likely some unattractive skin disease. The man had been a guzzler, smoked, ate garbage, and had been nearly ready to die in his sleep.
Why kill him?
“Sir?” Eve didn’t glance back as Peabody drew back the curtain. “ME’s on scene.”
“Why take his heart?” Eve muttered. “Why surgically remove it? If it was a straight murder, wouldn’t they have roughed him up, kicked him around? If they were into mutilation, why didn’t they mutilate? This is textbook work.”
Peabody scanned the body, grimaced. “I haven’t seen any heart ops, but I’ll take your word on that.”
“Look at the wound,” Eve said impatiently. “He should have bled out, shouldn’t he? A fist-sized hole in the chest, for Christ’s sake. But they—whatever it is—clamped, closed off, the bleeders, just like they would in surgery. This one didn’t want the mess, didn’t see the point in it. No, he’s proud of his work,” she added, crab walking back through the opening, then standing to take a deep gulp of the much fresher air outside.
“He’s skilled. Had to have had some training. And I don’t think one person could have managed this alone. You send the scoopers out to canvass for witnesses?”
“Yeah.” Peabody scanned the deserted street, the broken windows, the huddle of boxes and crates deep in the alleyway across the street. “Good luck to them.”
“Lieutenant.”
“Morris.” Eve lifted a brow as she noted she’d hooked the top medical examiner for an on-scene. “I didn’t expect to get the cream on a sidewalk sleeper.”
Pleased, he smiled, and his lively eyes danced. He wore his hair slicked back and braided with a siren red ski cap snugged over it. His long, matching coat flapped madly in the breeze. Morris, Eve knew, was quite the snazzy dresser.
“I was available, and your sleeper sounded quite interesting. No heart?”
“Well, I didn’t find one.”
He chuckled and approached the crate. “Let’s have a look-see.”
She shivered, envying him his long, obviously warm coat. She had one—Roarke had given her a beauty for Christmas—but she resisted wearing it on the job. No way in hell was she going to get blood and assorted body fluids all over that fabulous bronze-colored cashmere.
And she thought as she crouched down yet again, she was pretty sure her new gloves were cozily tucked in the pockets of that terrific coat. Which was why her hands were currently freezing.
She stuffed them in the pockets of her leather jacket, hunched her shoulders against the bite of the wind, and watched Morris do his job.
“Beautiful work,” Morris breathed. “Absolutely beautiful.”
“He had training, right?”
“Oh yes.” Affixing microgoggles over his eyes, Morris peered