Chapter Nine

Marjory wouldn't need to be phoning in the fact that an inebriated woman was leaving the bar that night.

The man who had been seen with Lila Strom was there; just as Keith said, he must have been there the night Lila had been killed.

Maybe they didn't trust Marjory to manage what was asked of her—even if she was desperately trying to keep her children alive.

But the children were safe now. MacDuff would be planning to get Marjory out of the place as soon as possible.

"Soon?" She asked the question while twirling the liquid in her glass, as if she were murmuring about a refill.

"You hold it well!" Emily Dougherty said.

"Feeling a little dizzy, but then again, I don't get many nights on my own," Carly told her.

Not a lie. She was always with someone, which was wonderful since that someone was Luke. However, it would be nice to just spend some of that "together time" by a pool...with maybe a pi?a colada she could sip slowly while basking in the sun.

"I'm probably going to take off soon," she told Emily.

"Well, you know what is going on here, so you must take grave care, lassie. No pun intended!" Emily told her.

"Of course. And what about you? Will someone meet you, how do—"

Emily broke her off with laughter. "Ah, I look too old to have someone, eh?"

"No!"

"Brody is yonder with his old business mates," Emily told her. "Married fifty-plus years, we are. I like to sit and meet people, and he enjoys his friends. I'm in good company, lass, and thank you for your concern. Now...on the other hand..."

"I'll be fine," Carly assured her.

"I saw the news today. Young lasses should not be out alone!"

"Seriously, I'll be fine," Carly repeated. As she did so, she heard Jordan's voice coming through her earbuds.

"I don't know how long you can play it, Carly. Luke and Daniel are now on the way back—the children are being cared for. And thanks to them being found, we know about another game the killers have been playing. Two of the little girls have parents in Edinburgh. We'll be finding them now, too. A good evening it's been. Play it out a bit longer."

"Are you all right, lass? You seem a bit distant," Emily said.

"I'm fine, thank you. Just thinking about all the things I want to do here."

Emily sipped her own drink. "Well, considering the circumstances now, there's truly a strange display, if you're of a...slightly twisted mind."

"Oh? What's that?"

"Dolls," Emily said. "Dolls, in the Edinburgh Museum. There are eight of them. They were discovered in the park, and eight of them were given to the museum in the early 1900s. People believe they represent the victims of Burke and Hare. But no one knows why they exist or who made them, though it's quite possible—because of the way the little coffins that they lie in were made—that a cobbler created them. Burke was a cobbler. Did he make them himself? Or perhaps they represented sailors lost at sea. No one knows, but the suspicion was so strong that an attempt was made to compare DNA from Burke's bones to DNA from the boxes...but the results were inconclusive. Just something to see if you happen to be at the museum."

"Oh," Carly said.

Marjory made another round and stopped before the two of them.

"How lovely!" she said. "The two of you getting along so well! Now, may I bring either of you another?"

"I do believe I shall imbibe one more!" Emily told her.

"And I shall, too," Carly said, curious as to what Marjory would do, considering Emily's drinks had come from the bottle in the well.

"Of course," Marjory murmured.

She took two glasses and filled one from the bottle in the well as she had through the evening for Emily, and then pretended that she'd been summoned from the other side. "Right back!" she said quickly.

She was quick, returning with both glasses full and placing them before Carly and Emily.

"Sorry, that bloke on the other side is a bit of a wanker!" she told them.

"Not to worry!" Carly assured her.

She was ready to pretend to finish her drink and leave, but she knew despite all that they had come to discover about the inebriation, the calls that a victim was ready and even the man who was watching from the bar, Marjory had to be safe.

The very next moment, William MacRay came sweeping round the bar, touching Marjory on the shoulder.

"Marjy, luv, manager needs to see you in the kitchen," he told her.

She was perplexed. "Why? William, I've been running—"

"Of course, of course. He isn't angry, I don't think, just whizzed by saying he wanted to thank you for something. Go on now. I've got this!" MacRay told her.

Marjory slid through the little door at the rear of the bar and headed toward another door that led to the kitchen.

Carly placed a few bills on the bar and smiled at Emily. "See that they get these, will you please? I think I need to head out now to meet a few friends. And I'll be fine. Please don't worry about me."

She slid from her stool, accepting a quick hug from the older woman, and hugged her in return.

She slipped through the crowd and walked on out to the street. She noticed Jordan was there and grinned inwardly.

It must have been a long, long night for him.

As she exited, he was talking to a man smoking a cigar as he leaned against the building.

She began her walk, retracing the steps they believed Lila Strom had taken on the night of her death. She neither walked too quickly nor too slowly and pretended to stumble just a bit now and then as she did so.

She was behind Greyfriars Kirkyard when she heard the footsteps close behind her. Then she found herself being hailed.

"Good evening, young lass! Forgive me. I saw you at the pub, but I didn't want to interrupt. That old dear seemed to be having such a lovely time with you!"

Carly turned and smiled. He was a good-looking man, tall, with a pleasant smile. Easy to see how he had been chosen for his role in this.

"She is lovely, Mrs. Dougherty," Carly said.

He was carrying a glass. Maybe, though she had appeared to drink through the night, he'd decided she might not be drunk enough.

Drunk enough to be easily pliable? To be swept up and dragged into a van or other vehicle? So far, the vehicle isn't visible on the street.

She laughed softly. "Are you supposed to leave the establishment with their glasses?" she asked him.

"Ah, I suppose not," he said. There was only a slight burr to his voice. He might have been Scottish, and yet the slight roll of his words came from time spent in several places. "But all night, I wanted nothing more than to meet you and buy you a drink."

"Carly," she told him, offering him her hand. "And you're..."

"Jared. Jared Stone. Please. I'm a bit late, but may I buy you a drink? Well, as you can see, I have purchased one, and..."

"Ah!" she told him. "But I can't drink alone."

"Then together?" he asked.

She took the drink, pretended to sip it and handed it back to him. "Together!" she said.

He tried to smile, but she knew he wasn't all that happy. He took a sip.

"You're American," he said.

"I am. And you?"

"A citizen of the world. Born in the south of France, Italian mother, Norwegian father, lived all over and now..."

"What do you do that brings you here, to Edinburgh?" she asked him.

"I'm in investments," he told her. "And you?"

She smiled sweetly. "I'm in travel."

At last, a nondescript minivan made an appearance on the street.

"Ah, my friends are arriving. I can buy another drink, though sharing this one has been great fun. Please, come with me."

"I don't think so," Carly said.

"No, you will come with me!"

His manner changed; everything about him changed.

It was time to act.

She wrenched her arm free, reached for her holster and found her Glock, aiming at him as the van came to a halt and another man stepped out, racing for them.

Armed himself, aiming at Carly.

He never came near her. She heard a shot ring out and saw Jordan slip out from behind a tree, followed by Luke and Daniel. The man who had called himself Jared Stone threw his glass of whiskey aside and tried to draw his gun himself, but Luke walked up to him with his weapon in the man's face and jerked the gun out of his hand.

He spoke out loud and she knew MacDuff had to be listening on his earbuds as the men had been throughout her entire conversation with Jared Stone.

"Ambulance and patrol," Luke said.

Luke looked in the direction Jared had thrown the whiskey. "Super-charged, eh? I guess your victims are usually much more compliant," Luke told him. "But Carly wasn't really drinking, so..."

Jared shrugged. "Hey. I just wanted a date with a chick. What's your problem, man?"

"A date with a chick?" Luke said incredulously.

"You shot my friend!" Jared shouted defiantly.

"No, Jordan shot your friend. I was too afraid that if I shot at him for trying to help force her into the van, I'd kill you. And we need you alive," Luke said.

"You—you're an American! You are going to be in so much trouble for this—"

"I'm not an American," Jordan said. "Police Scotland, Edinburgh Division."

"National Crime Agency," Daniel said.

"You can't arrest me for trying to get a date!" Jared shouted again.

"I can and will arrest you for that gun," Jordan informed him. "And for murder, of course."

"I didn't kill anybody!" he protested.

"You probably didn't physically do the killing," Luke told him. "But being an accessory to murder, well... I think all your dates from now on are going to be behind prison walls! For the moment..."

Sirens were loud in the night. Police cars arrived, and Jordan greeted a friend and told him, "Take him! Campbell is going to want to meet this bloke himself. And the other..."

"Ambulance is here," Daniel noted.

And it was.

MacDuff arrived as well, nodding grimly to them and telling them, "Your work for the evening is done—there will be no victim tonight, I do believe we can rest assured on that. We'll begin again in the morning. For now..."

"More evidence," Luke said, indicating the broken glass of whiskey that Jared had tried to share with Carly.

"You and I will bring it to the lab. The glass is broken, but remnants will remain. No one goes anywhere alone, even now. We have a great deal of evidence that pertains to Marjory Alden's part in this, but this will also seal this fellow's involvement."

"The children are really all right?" Carly asked anxiously.

"They were not hurt," Luke told her. "They were frightened. But the woman who looked out for them was a prisoner, too. She was told to keep them healthy and well, or she'd be shot between the eyes herself. I think she cared about the children, so..."

"Where do they go from here?" Carly whispered.

"Protective custody right now, and we have Marjory Alden," MacDuff told her. "And Special Agent MacDonald, exceptional work this evening!"

"Thank you," she said. "But..."

"But?" MacDuff asked.

"But we might not have played it close enough to the vest," she said.

"What are you talking about, Carly?" Luke asked her. "We miraculously found the children, we have Marjory Alden, this man and the van driver. That's a success."

She hesitated. "Maybe I should have let them get me into the van and had you follow the van to wherever they were going—"

"Too risky," MacDuff said firmly. "This city...too easy to have lost the van, to have discovered that we couldn't follow with enough force. We have players in this wretched game now and one of them will give us something, something that we need. Tomorrow. We let them sit in cells tonight—or in surgery for the fellow who was shot. Tomorrow! Please do not forget that we have fine law enforcement in Scotland, and that our team is supported by all of it. Tonight, our plan worked, and taking it further could have been extremely dangerous and perhaps even yielded us nothing. Now, this team is officially off for the night. And Carly, you are worth far more to this investigation alive," he said firmly.

"Thank you," she murmured, still worried they hadn't really managed to end anything.

But Luke was watching her and she forced a smile. "Going back will be good. I didn't really drink anything and I feel as if..."

"You spent the night in a pub?" he offered.

She nodded.

"I say we walk back together now!" Daniel suggested.

"And we can tell you more, of course," Luke told her.

Her smile was genuine. She would get to hear the truth about everything that had happened, everything that had allowed them to save the children.

"We're heading out," Daniel announced, starting through all the support personnel who had arrived, politely excusing himself.

Carly and Luke followed.

They made it back to the Royal Mile. And when they were there, Daniel told her excitedly, "It was Keith, Carly. He found us on the way out before we were able to get to the car. We told him where we were headed. He insisted on coming—he knows so much about Rosslyn Chapel, the history of it and the layout and..."

"And besides that, he could walk through walls, tell us the only danger there was the armed man who opened the door and that the children were in the tunnel area, guarded by just the unarmed woman who was a prisoner as well," Luke told her.

"Wow. Keith is...wonderful!" she said.

"He is. Though he insists he did nothing. He said our investigation gave him what was really needed, the knowledge that the kids were near Rosslyn Chapel, that Marjory was involved and that we even knew—through Flora MacDonald—that the man calling himself Jared Stone was part of the killing machine," Daniel said. "Bloody hell, but I am so... I am so, so grateful to be able to speak with the dead and meet men like Keith!"

Carly smiled at him. He had been a good man, good at law enforcement, from the get-go. He was young, and she believed he would continue to have an amazing career. But it wouldn't be the career that mattered to him—it would be the good he was able to do for others.

"We always remember that we're lucky, that our abilities do allow us to do some things others might not manage," Carly said. "But no one is ever invited into the Krewe unless they have gone through the academy, unless...unless they do know how to investigate without help. We never count on the dead to solve situations for us."

"Of course not. But tonight..."

Luke glanced at Carly, grinning. It was great to see how much Daniel embraced the newfound depths of his ability.

She nodded to Luke.

"And you, Carly. Seriously!" Luke said. "There is no way in hell anyone would have endorsed you getting into that van."

"But—"

"But if you had entered the van, it would have been two to one. Those are bad odds. And we don't know the steps they take to kill their victims. All we know from the medical examiner is the victims were first inebriated, then asphyxiated and then disemboweled. They might have gone after you in the van—the killing part might be immediate."

"I really don't think so, not when the time for transplants—"

"I don't think so, either. But we don't let ourselves be killed while trying to save others," he reminded her.

"I know, I know, I guess that..."

"It's frustrating. We haven't gotten to the major players yet," Daniel said.

"We will," Luke told him.

"Someone from tonight will give us something," Carly assured him. "The police have the man calling himself Jared Stone in custody, along with Marjory Alden—with her children safe. They have kids belonging to someone else in the community. And they have the man who was holding the kids and the man who was driving the van in custody as well, just undergoing surgery before they're brought in."

"Tomorrow is going to be a hell of a long day," Luke commented.

They reached the house and keyed their way in. They were the first to arrive since MacDuff and Jordan had gone on to bring the glass with whiskey in it to the lab.

But as it turned out, MacDuff and Jordan were right behind them; while Carly was more than ready to crash into bed, MacDuff wanted them to join Campbell around the table.

When they were gathered, he told them, "Brendan Campbell questioned Marjory Alden tonight, assuring her first that her children are well, and she'd be able to see them. Her ex-husband was informed that the kids had been found and were all right. But she had to help us. She was an accessory to murder, of course, but she might mitigate her circumstances by giving us every piece of information she has. The woman was hysterical at first. She said that these people could get anyone, but we convinced her we could keep her safe. She began spilling everything. But the problem is they keep everything separate. In other words, they kidnapped her children, sent her pictures of them on her phone so that she knew they really had them, and then told her if she didn't find young people who appeared to be in excellent health and inebriate them with the specially distilled whiskey, her children would be killed. We have the phone and, of course, it's a burner. She said she could give us the one contact she knew about—except that was Jared Stone and we have him. At this point, as far as she goes, we are seeing that she, and especially the children, are safe."

"So she's a dead end there," Jordan murmured.

"But we do have Jared Stone and the unknown man from the house. The van driver didn't make it through surgery," Campbell told them.

"We have something else," Carly said.

They all looked at her. "Flora MacDonald saw Jared Stone at the Connoly house. We need to find out what their involvement is in all this. And as far as the house by Rosslyn Chapel, we must be able to trace ownership on that—"

"The property is owned by a group doing their banking out of the Cayman Islands. Jackson and Angela and the team in the States are hunting down everything possible, and I do believe we'll have some answers on that soon." He paused, shaking his head. "This operation is for money, but they had to have had money to get it going."

"Burke and Hare," Luke murmured.

They all looked at him.

"These people may be more like that duo than just the comparison created by the press," Luke said. "Someone may have either found that a dying relative or friend or even stranger was available just when someone with real money discovered they needed a transplant. Maybe someone with millions ready to part with it for themselves or a loved one. Just like Burke and Hare, they discovered there was a tremendous market in dead bodies."

"But how do you involve so very many people?" Daniel asked thoughtfully.

"Bribery and threats," Jordan suggested. "We know how they coerced Marjory Alden."

"We need to have our tech people finding out everything they can about the Connoly family, even more so than before. I understand they looked fine on paper so far, but there must be something we're not seeing." She frowned. "We also needed to get started on lists—from across the world. Somewhere out there, someone received a life-saving transplant when they were low on the list."

"Oddly enough, the world is full of billionaires from across the globe. And there are countries around the world who aren't as fair and caring when it comes to who receives what," MacDuff said. "Why here?" he added angrily.

"The islands," Carly murmured. "There are three things we have to do. We need to find out where the operations are happening. We need to find the whiskey distiller who is making the special batches. And we need to find the head of the snake." Carly paused and then continued, "I think we should try at the hospital here again. Find out if anyone was fired or was coming in due to being on the organ waiting list—and then stopped coming."

"That's a good plan. I think Carly, MacDuff and Luke might want to interrogate Jared Stone first and see what you can learn from him. Then go to the hospital. We'll work on the fellow who was keeping the children. And I'd like to see what can be found out on the Connoly couple. By tomorrow night, I think we might want to make a call on them again."

"Right. We'll want to start early," Luke said, rising.

MacDuff nodded. "Clock's set for six. I think seven a.m. will be a fine time for a chat with Mr. Jared Stone." He hesitated. "Carly, I believe the man is something of a misogynist, and you will be able to draw the greatest reactions—including the truth—from him."

"Here's hoping," she said, rising. "It's so strange. I barely pressed any of those glasses to my lips, and I feel as if..."

"And it may just be exhaustion!" Daniel said lightly. "Good night, all. Oh!"

He had risen with the others, but he started suddenly and looked at MacDuff.

"We're not going to confront him with Flora, are we? I can't help but feel that even with Jared Stone out of the picture, she may be in danger."

MacDuff smiled at him. "We will not put the lass in any danger," he promised. "Oh," he added lightly, "we'll arrange for you to see her soon, since I know that you're worried."

Daniel grinned at that. "Aye. Thanks."

Carly looked at Luke, smiling.

As they finally got into their room, she told him, "I do think there's a budding romance growing there."

"And a difficult time for it," Luke agreed. "I had a strange conversation with Daniel as we headed back tonight, right before we reached the area where Jared Stone made his move."

"Oh?"

"He wants to be part of the Krewe of Hunters, on our international team."

"Poor thing, he must be conflicted at this moment. Falling in love with a witness—though that was some fast falling in love. Wanting to be with people who understand him, with whom he can be honest. But we won't always be in Scotland and—"

"Ah, but people have managed long-distance relationships," Luke said.

"True. And..."

"And we don't know where anything is going until all this is over," Luke said. "Except, I'm going to bed. But I know you. Ready to drop or not, you're going to the shower."

"I am."

He shrugged and grinned. "I guess I am, too!"

They showered. And showering led where it always did. But it was also always an incredibly beautiful piece of normalcy when it seemed that the world had gone off the rails.

She smiled, curling against Luke, feeling the warmth of his body and the simple security of lying with someone she trusted not just with her life, but with her heart and soul and entire being.

"How did we get so lucky?" she murmured.

"Being together, working together?" he asked softly.

"Yes. Makes me feel a tremendous empathy for poor Daniel!"

"I believe it will all work out for him. Somehow," Luke assured her. "He is a great teammate. I'd love him to continue working with us."

"But is that possible—"

"All kinds of things are possible," he assured her

He was staring up at the ceiling.

"What?"

He smiled dryly. "I try not to take it all with me when it's time to sleep, to let it go, refresh the mind, but..."

"But something is bothering you."

He nodded. "Lily Connoly."

"In what way?"

"She pretended such horror. And according to her husband, she never even saw the body. So either that's true, or she's the brains behind whatever part of the operation they might be. She could be an exceptional actress, throwing us off—and maybe even deceiving her husband—with her hysteria and horror over everything."

"She would really be an exceptional actress," Carly agreed. "And still..."

"Still?"

"Okay, percentagewise, most serial killers are men. But this isn't your usual serial-killer situation. And if you're talking to many, many law enforcement officials, they'll assure you that women can be the most vicious and manipulating criminals out there. Which brings me back to the hospital," Carly said thoughtfully.

"Do you really believe that a doctor—"

"No. I found Dr. Leith Forbes to be solid, a man in medicine because he does want to save lives. I think he's perplexed that anyone would do this. But..."

"We're back to a disgruntled doctor. Maybe someone who had their medical license ripped away from them."

"Possibly."

He smoothed her hair back.

"The morning will come. We need to..."

"Stop thinking."

"Sleep."

"Or fool around until we do."

Carly laughed softly. That wasn't such a bad idea.

MacDuff had pegged Jared Stone right—the man did believe the male of the species was superior to the female. He'd been brought to an interrogation room early, at six o'clock, Brendan Campbell told them when they arrived. And he had been left to sit for an hour.

Carly entered first and the man started to laugh. Luke, Campbell and MacDuff watched from the observation room.

"So, they send in the bait first? What a joke!" Stone declared.

"Ah, you'll spend the rest of your life behind bars. That's a joke?" Carly asked him.

"For what? Trying to get a female body into bed? You'd need to arrest half the world."

"Do you always pick up women with your friend in a van—after plying them with mega-charged whiskey? Well, maybe you do. Maybe that's the only way you ever get a date, but..."

He leaned toward her. "Honey, I can have any cow I want, anytime I want."

"Now, that's a laugh. A good joke."

He was furious; he tried to slam his fists on the table, but since he was cuffed there, all he did was jangle metal and cause a little bump.

"Yeah, that's you," Carly said, laughing softly.

"If I weren't chained here—"

"I'm willing to bet that my training is superior to yours, and that I could clock you within about ten seconds," Carly said sweetly. "Thing is, you're going down for accessory to murder at the very least—"

"Again! I was just picking up a bitch! Oh, yeah, you! So you know that I'm telling the truth. I just tried to get you some good whiskey, bar whore!"

"Sticks and stones, sticks and stones—oh, it's funny, really funny, since you say your name is Stone. I wonder what it is, really. Who cares? I'm sorry, there's so much more. According to witnesses, you were seen in the vennel with Lila Strom—oh, right after you were seen with the woman in the street, forcing whiskey down her throat."

"Bull! And hey, what if I was drinking with her? That doesn't mean I killed her."

"Maybe you didn't kill her," Carly said with a shrug. "Maybe you just brought her to the people who killed her."

"All I did—"

"You were seen forcing her to drink, and—oh, yeah, you were also seen getting her into the van."

"Well, talk to Joe, then! Maybe he did something with her. Hey, all right. I'm a good-looking guy. Joe, not so much. I get women drunk so he can get laid."

Carly smiled very sweetly. "What a good friend you are!"

"Nah, that kind of thing is easy as pie."

Carly sat back, arms folded over her chest and smiled.

"Pity we don't really have such a witness," MacDuff murmured.

"I'll give her another minute, head in as if she's my superior. That will rile him a bit more and maybe..."

"When you're ready," MacDuff told him.

"I'm so sorry! Joe is dead," Carly told him.

"Another thing I can sue your asses for!" Stone exclaimed. "Shooting a man in cold blood!"

"Well, it's allowed in law enforcement when a person is about to shoot an officer," she said calmly. She leaned forward. "Buddy, you're fried. The only chance you have to help yourself is by helping us!"

Stone stared at her. Luke chose that moment and wandered in.

"Ma'am," he said, nodding with respect. "Campbell asked to speak with you for a moment—our witness wants a word with you."

"All right," Carly said. She smiled sweetly at Stone. "I'll be back," she promised.

She left the room and Luke sat wearily.

Stone stared at him. "How the hell do you do it? You take orders from a...from a bitch?" he demanded.

Luke shrugged. "I need my job. Besides, according to our bosses back in the States, she's the queen bee. Gets results, you know. Anyway, buddy, she was right about one thing: you're fried. Your only chance is to help us."

The man sat back, swallowing. "Hey, will it hurt her if you manage to get something when she couldn't?"

"Sure. It would help me a lot. Maybe I'd get out from under her thumb," Luke said, leaning forward hopefully. "And I will do everything in my power to make sure your part in this was totally innocent. You were just—as you said—helping a friend get laid. You had no clue your friend was taking people off to be murdered. Except—" Luke paused, frowning. "What about the male victims?"

"Oh, she did that all by herself," Stone said.

"She?" Luke said, surprised. "You mean, you were working for a bitch?"

"No, never working for—just working with," Stone said.

"All right, then, who the hell is she?" Luke asked.

He shook his head. "I don't know her name. She didn't know my name..."

"By any strange chance, was it Lily Connoly?" Luke asked.

"Lily? No," he said with a laugh.

"Why are you laughing?"

"Because I was only sleeping with Lily," Stone told her.

"But you were also seen dumping a body behind her house."

"Because I dumped a body doesn't mean that I killed anyone!" Stone protested. "I get texts, they tell me where to go, what to do—and when and where to dump a body. Actually, I became quite an artist! The last few...the women...they were beautiful, right?"

"They were dead," Luke said. "So... Hmm. You have nothing to give us. How the hell can I help you with nothing?"

Stone looked worried, suddenly. "Joe. Look into Joe. Joe was the one who..."

"Who?"

"He brought the women where they were supposed to be. Oh, and the men, too."

"We told you. Joe is dead."

"Right. Well..." Stone leaned forward. "Joe wasn't the only one. Just keep looking. They have a few of them."

"A few of them—what?"

"Minivans and drivers," Stone said.

"That's not enough. We didn't think that with something so incredibly detailed going on that you'd be their only gofer."

"Gofer?"

"Well, if you don't know anything at all..." Luke paused and shrugged, leaning forward. "You were in an even worse position than I was!"

"I had what they needed! Good looks and charm."

"That's not going to help you at trial."

"You never know."

"Hmm, not when they see the witnesses against you. And watch a few people sobbing their hearts out. You'd be surprised how stealing a person's life can upset their loved ones. Or what they're willing to do. A few of the victims actually had some money, too, I believe. Now their loved ones have that money, and even during a short stint in prison..."

"Say it!"

"Well, it's possible to die without law enforcement having anything to do with it. Anyway, okay, if you can't help me..." Luke let his words trail as he stood.

"Wait!"

"What is it?"

"All right, I'm not lying. Everything was kept on a need-to-know basis, but I was told where to dump the body. Joe wasn't my driver that night. I didn't know the guy in the van that night. And I don't know what the hell they're doing with people before they chop them up. Burke and Hare, selling bodies. Whatever. But I was told to dump the body in the vennel there because I know it."

"A different driver for the van. Can you work with a sketch artist?"

"I can. And I can tell you something else."

"What is that?"

"Okay, yes, I was at the Connoly house. I mean, I was just sleeping with Lily Connoly, but..."

"But?"

"But she was paying me for it. She has some kind of money that her husband knows nothing about. Hey, who knows? She could be the brains behind the whole thing!"