Blood Debt

all to bits."
    Since she was at the couch, she sat. "So let's have a look at those news programs Tony taped. Maybe we'll get a better idea of what's going on."
    Emotional self-discovery had never been one of Vicki's strong points, Henry reminded himself as he picked up the remote. The prospect of eternity had cracked the protective shell she'd worn most of her life, but there were pieces remaining that still needed to be levered free. Celluci's problem, he acknowledged thankfully and turned on the television.
    A Metropolitan Toronto Police officer had not been found tied to a bed in a North Vancouver clinic.
    No one had been arrested for selling kidney transplants.
    Red-gold brows meeting over his nose, Henry stopped the tape. "I don't understand," he said, more to himself than to Vicki. "I sent the police out to Project Hope."
    Vicki's first impulse was to suggest that age had robbed him of persuasion, but June nights were too short for her to provoke another fight merely for the sake of pissing him off. "Then they didn't find him."
    "He wasn't exactly well-hidden."
    "Then he wasn't there."
    "If he's been moved…" Henry let the sentence trail off. Vancouver was a very large city. He shuddered at the sudden vision of Michael Celluci spending an eternity haunting the end of his bed.

    "I'll find him."
    "How?"
    She stood, the motion fluid and predatory. "First, we make a few discreet inquiries and find out what actually happened last night at the clinic after we left. Then…" Her eyes glittered. "… we play it by ear. Or whatever other body parts we have to tear off to get an answer."

    Typical, Celluci thought, craning his head to see the IV line that had been inserted into the back of his hand. Good doctors, evil doctors — none of them ever bother to mention what the hell they're doing to you. Like you haven't any right to know what they're fucking around with. "Excuse me, but it's still my body."
    "Yes, it is."
    Startled, he swiveled his head around to stare up at the impassive face of the doctor. Then he realized he'd spoken that last thought out loud. Although earlier attempts indicated he wouldn't accomplish much, he supposed it wouldn't hurt to try and continue the conversation. "Then would you mind telling me just what is it you're doing?"
    "Replacing fluids." She packed the bag of blood away in the small cooler.
    "You know there's a limit to how much of that stuff you can take out."
    Dr. Mui snapped the cooler closed and turned to go. "I know."
    "So there's a lab involved in this, too, eh?"
    One hand on the door, she paused and gave him much the same look he could remember receiving from his third-grade teacher—who, if he remembered correctly, had never liked him much. "Don't be ridiculous, Detective. The labs do the work they're sent. There's no need to involve them in the details."
    Okay, no evil labs. While that bit of good news had no bearing on his present circumstance, it was encouraging in a larger sense. "What about during the operation? You're going to need an assistant—
    because as good as you may be you don't have three hands—and with two people under, you'll need an anesthesiologist as well."
    "What makes you think there'll be two people under, Detective?
    Packed in sterile ice, a kidney can safely last almost forty-eight hours after removal."
    "Two separate operations would increase the risk of detection." He kept his voice level, disinterested, as though he were not going to be intimately involved in those operations. "My guess is you do them both at once. Sequentially if not simultaneously."
    Dr. Mui inclined her head, acknowledging his theory. "Very perceptive of you, Detective. Your point?"
    "I was just wondering how you keep those other people from talking."
    "Why?"
    Shrugging as deeply as the restraints allowed, he gave her his best let's charm the truth out of this witness smile. "I haven't much else to do."
    "True enough." The corners of her mouth might have curved upward a fraction, but Celluci couldn't be certain. "The other people involved know only what they must to perform their specific function, so even if they did talk, there'd be a limited amount they could say.
    However, as they are obviously breaking the law themselves, the odds of them talking fall within a reasonable risk. And you'd be amazed at how little it takes to convince some people to break the law."
    Celluci snorted. "No, I wouldn't. But murder…"
    "Who said anything about murder? They only know what they