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end of it. The deputy coroner
might wonder about Alistair’s change of heart, but if Alistair
threw in a couple extra thousand in the final payoff to his friend,
it would hopefully do the trick and keep the man quiet. So far, the
deputy coroner had gotten more than ten thousand dollars out of
him—money Alistair’s family could have used. The man had no cause
for complaint.
    * * *
    “What do you mean, you’re quitting?” Richard
Davis demanded several hours later.
    Alistair looked quickly around him at the
dozen or so patrons scattered around the dimly lit, inner city bar,
but thankfully, no one appeared to be listening to them. “Keep your
voice down!” he ordered in a harsh whisper. “We don’t want the
whole world to know.”
    Richard glanced to his left and right and
then leaned closer over the small round table that separated them.
“I’m not ready for you to quit. I need that extra money. You can’t
get me involved in this and then, out of the blue, tell me you’ve
had enough. It isn’t fair. I won’t let you do it!”
    Alistair stared at the man and saw the
weakness in his chin. Why hadn’t Alistair remembered what a poor
excuse of a man the deputy coroner really was? He bit down hard
on a sigh. It was too late for regrets.
    “If you stop, I’ll go to the police.”
    Richard’s words penetrated Alistair’s brain.
He tensed. How the hell had he managed to get himself into this
situation? He and Richard had gone through med school together.
They’d been good friends, almost inseparable until Alistair met
Nancy. Then love and life got in the way and the two friends had
drifted apart. Richard had gone into forensic medicine and Alistair
had become a surgeon.
    Although they’d lost touch over the years,
when Alistair came upon the idea to harvest additional organs from
donor patients, Richard was one of the first people that came to
mind to become his accomplice. The deputy coroner’s father had died
from liver cancer when Richard was still a child. Richard knew
firsthand that a transplant might have saved his dad if a donor
liver had been available. He’d grown up a passionate supporter of
organ donation.
    “You need me, Alistair, and you know it.
That’s the reason you came to me in the first place.”
    Alistair’s jaw clenched. What Richard said
was true. When a deceased organ donor required an autopsy, the
senior doctor presiding over the death had to obtain the coroner’s,
or one of his deputies’ authorization prior to any organ harvesting
going ahead.
    Of course, Alistair could have simply
bypassed the coronial cases and concentrated on those donors headed
directly for the funeral homes and crematoriums, but at the time it
seemed like such a waste of good organs to let even those few
donors go. Having a college buddy in the coroner’s office seemed
too good an opportunity to let slide. Knowing Richard’s attitude
toward organ donation was what cemented the matter.
    But circumstances had changed. With
Samantha’s curiosity piqued, it had become too risky and Alistair
had hoped to shut down the morgue arm of their operation. But now,
Richard had dropped a bombshell. Was he stupid enough to carry
out his threat and go to the police?
    With a sigh, Alistair squeezed his eyes shut
for a few moments and ignored the pounding in his head. Opening his
eyes, he stared at Richard across the table and tried to gage the
other man’s sincerity. Richard refused to meet his gaze.
    “I mean it, Alistair. If you stop harvesting
those extra organs and don’t continue to throw a little money my
way, I’ll go to the police and tell them everything.”
    “Why would you do a silly thing like that?”
Alistair asked, working hard to keep his voice even. “It would
destroy both of us.”
    “I don’t want to, but if you quit, you’ll
give me no choice. I need the money and… It makes me feel good
knowing more people are benefiting from our actions. You can’t stop
now. Besides, I’ll tell the police