The Recipient (37 page)

CHAPTER 36.

A
hospital bed.

Another
hospital bed.

Her eyes were closed. A large, round pad covered her right eye, concealing the angry bruising underneath it. A dressing covered her collarbone. Her arm was immobilised in a sling.

Lionel sat beside Casey's bed in a reclining chair. He was dozing, snoring softly. A pair of glasses hung precariously from the edge of his nose. He hugged a newspaper to his chest. Scott was slumped on a painfully small sofa opposite, scanning his smartphone's screen.

A TV screen, mounted on a strut that descended from the ceiling, flashed imagery at them. Its volume was muted; the remote lay on Casey's blankets.

The door to the room clicked open and a young nurse stepped inside. Regarding Scott, who looked up from his phone and smiled at her, she tiptoed over to Casey's bedside and checked the pump that was delivering IV fluids into Casey's arm.

Casey stirred. Her visible eye fluttered open and she glanced up. The nurse flushed pink.

“I'm sorry,” she whispered apologetically. “I didn't mean to wake you. I just wanted to check your pump.”

Casey smiled weakly.

“It's all right,” she croaked softly. “I wasn't asleep.”

The nurse gave the plastic flask a jiggle then, satisfied, she turned to leave.

Her eyes went up to the TV screen just as the mid-morning news bulletin flashed up.

She gasped as a picture of Casey appeared on screen.

“That's you!”

Casey looked up, feeling around for the remote. She pressed the volume button. The sound of the male newscaster caused Lionel to wake with a start. He jolted upright in his chair and glanced around, disoriented. Scott struggled up from the sofa and came over.

‘…Federal Government in Canberra is in crisis this morning following revelations of a highly sophisticated organ harvesting ring, which was uncovered by a young Melbourne woman, allegedly operating from within the Federal Department of Immigration & Border Protection.'

Lionel lifted his glasses into position as the introduction transitioned to a female anchor while images of Simeera Fedele, Francis Arlo and a third man whom Casey did not recognise, appeared in a graphic beside her.

“
Federal and State Police Authorities have been mobilised in the wake of stunning revelations of the ring which is reported to have been operating for several years and has potentially involved hundreds of victims.”

Casey reached out to Lionel, who took her hand in his. He squeezed it gently.

“I don't recognise that third man,” she remarked.

Lionel squinted at the screen. “Someone from government perhaps?” Scott shrugged his shoulders.

‘Authorities in Canberra have swooped in on the offices of the Parliamentary Secretary to the Federal Immigration Minister, Mr. Simon Schutz, arresting several staff including the Secretary himself as well as seizing computer hardware and documents. Here in Melbourne—in what has been described as a shocking development—world-renowned heart transplant surgeon Mr. Simeera Fedele has been reportedly taken into custody in connection with the organ harvesting ring. We take you now to a live press conference in Melbourne where the Victorian Police Commissioner, Keith Moodie, is about to make a statement.'

The shot transitioned to a press conference. Several police personnel flanked the Police Commissioner himself, who sat down at a desk before a packed audience of journalists.

Casey identified Farnham Whittaker on the screen, while Prishna Argawaal was in the background, standing to one side of the auditorium. She looked on as the Commissioner prepared to speak.

“Good morning,” the Commissioner began, coughing into his closed fist. “I'll make a short statement after which I will accept a small number of questions.”

A murmur rippled through the audience, then silenced as the Commissioner continued.

“This morning, Major Crime Detectives working in partnership with Australian Federal Police have made several arrests in connection with an apparent organ harvesting operation that was operating here in Melbourne. Our initial assessment, based upon evidence which has been uncovered thus far, is that it was highly organised and that the Flaxley Park Immigration Detention Facility has been identified as a hub from where…candidates were sourced.”

The Commissioner paused as he adjusted his glasses and checked the notes in front of him.

“Now, I can confirm that those arrests include heart transplant surgeon Mr. Simeera Fedele as well as Mr. Simon Schutz, the Federal Parliamentary Secretary to the Minister for Immigration and Border Protection.”

The audience erupted into excited chatter while several journalists peppered the Commissioner with a barrage of questions. He raised his hand, calling for silence. Once the tumult had dropped away, he gestured to a young woman in front of him.

“Commissioner, there is speculation that the Parliamentary Secretary was facilitating the fast-tracking of asylum seeker claims so that they could be used as organ donors for wealthy overseas clients. Further, it is being suggested that he was receiving significant financial incentives for doing so. Can you confirm this?”

The Commissioner shifted in his seat and looked down his nose at the reporter.

“It is too early to speculate on the exact roles of each of the suspects. I would suggest that you direct that question to my Federal counterpart,” he responded tersely.

He gestured to another journalist who was wielding a smartphone in his outstretched hand.

“Indonesian media sources are reporting that authorities in Jakarta have arrested and charged a prominent doctor with conspiracy in connection with this organ harvesting operation. Do you have any comment regarding that?”

The Commissioner nodded. “Our Federal counterparts have been liaising with Indonesian authorities and yes, a person of interest has been taken into custody.”

“What can you tell us of reports that a colleague of Mr. Fedele's, a Francis Arlo, was found murdered last night and is there any connection between this death and the death of Ms. Josephine Catea?”

Casey shivered at the mention of Arlo and she squeezed Lionel's hand tighter. On the TV screen, the Commissioner nodded and glanced sideways at Whittaker, who spoke up.

“Francis Arlo's death, along with Ms. Catea's, are being examined as part of our investigation,” Whittaker responded. “Mr. Fedele is cooperating with us. That is all we're prepared to say at this time.”

The Commissioner nodded at another reporter who looked at Whittaker.

“What can you tell us about the reports that a patient of Mr. Fedele's, a Miss Casey Schillinge, was the one who uncovered this apparent conspiracy?”

Whittaker glanced sideways at the Commissioner who wove his hands together on the table in front of him. He glowered at the journalist.

“We have no comment,” Whittaker said.

The journalist pressed further. “Was she, in fact, responsible for the security breach at Flaxley Park?”

“Again,” the Commissioner rumbled warningly. “No comment.”

An aide to the Commissioner stepped up behind him and whispered something in his ear. He nodded and stood.

“Ladies and gentlemen, thank you. That is all we have for you at this time.”

The chattering rose again as the police representatives filed from the auditorium. Reporters continued to fire questions as the television switched from the press conference back to the news anchor in the studio.

Casey pointed the remote control at the TV and switched it off. She did not want to hear anymore. Nor did she want to see anymore. She squeezed her eye shut against a burgeoning anxiety. Scott, Lionel and the nurse regarded her with concern.

“Are you okay?”

She nodded wearily, lifting her hand to the bandage covering her eye.

“Yeah,” she responded with barely a whisper. “I just…need it all to
stop
.”

Casey retreated within herself, pushing against the gathering adrenaline surge and the accompanying memories of the past few days. Of her confrontation with Arlo and
…
with him.

She couldn't bear to even think his name. Her stomach rolled as she fought to block his face out.

The nurse looked to Lionel, who smiled thankfully, then she retreated from the bed. Opening the door to the room, she looked into the faces of Peter and Edie who were just about to knock.

The nurse stepped to one side, holding the door for them as they entered the room. Opening her eye, Casey watched them both. Her expression was empty.

Edie hesitated and dropped behind Peter while he approached Casey's bed gingerly. He acknowledged Scott with a nod.

A moment passed as he looked down upon her awkwardly. Casey couldn't be sure whether her father was shocked by her appearance or whether he was simply unsure of what to say.

All at once, Peter's eyes glistened, his cheeks flushed red and his lip quivered.

“I've got no idea what to say,” he said shakily. “This is all so…”

“Crazy?” Casey finished for him, breaking the ice. Peter managed a laugh in spite of himself.

“
Crazy
,” he echoed.

Tears spilled down over his cheeks and he leaned down, planting a tender kiss on her forehead.

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, his lips lingering on her skin. “I'm sorry I couldn't understand it. Accept it.”

Casey squeezed his hand as he drew back. “I couldn't understand it myself. I just
knew.
I had to follow my gut.”

“Just as well you did. Everyone is talking about it. Not in so many specifics of course, but it's big news. Even Angus has heard about it.”

Casey's one eye grew wide. “God, I hope he's all right,” she said, concerned.

Peter patted her arm gently. “He's fine. We've already spoken to him. Your Mum and I.”

Casey turned her head, glancing around her father and across at Edie who remained by the door. Her expression was tense. When her eyes met Casey's she shifted nervously, unsure of what to do. It was Casey who finally gestured, beckoning her to come closer.

Peter and Lionel glanced at one another as Edie approached the bed. Lionel moved to stand, but Casey stopped him with her free hand.

Edie glanced at him earnestly and then regarded her only daughter.

“Stay,” Casey mouthed.

Peter gently swung his arm around Edie's waist as Casey turned, wincing as she leaned too heavily on her injured shoulder. She looked up at Edie for a long moment.

“There was a file,” Edie said. “Saskia's visa case was being handled by our office. Bill Slattery confirmed it…and I've since turned the file over to the police.” Edie paused and reached down to touch Casey's face gently. “You were right, Casey,” she whispered. “You were right all along. And I am so sorry.”

Casey gazed at her mother, too moved to speak. Finally, she reached out for Edie's hand, taking it in her own. Her grip was firm. “It's finished, Mum,” Casey said quietly.

Tears welled in Edie's eyes and her lips turned upward in an emotional smile. She nodded, leaning into her husband, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I know,” she whispered. “I know.”

She held onto her daughter's hand as tightly as she dared.

___

The breeze was stiff as it gusted in off the bay, whipping up whitecaps that coasted in on the current and crashed against the pylons of the jetty, sending salty spray up and over the rail. Thick clouds crossed the sky. To the south, they were especially dark and foreboding, while to the west, approaching sheets of rain dropped in wide swaths to drench the earth.

As Prishna raised the collar of her jacket, she grimaced at the approaching storm. She could only hope that this meeting would be over and done with soon. She would give it five more minutes.

Turning towards the shore, Prishna looked up to see the headlights of a familiar black van as it pulled into the parking area above the beach.

Finally
.

The doors opened and she watched as Casey walked cautiously down the steps, supporting her still immobilised left arm with her right. As she crossed the sand and stepped up onto the jetty, Prishna noted that she still wore a pad over her injured eye but had concealed it with a pair of large sunglasses.

Prishna walked along the jetty as Casey approached until she stopped a dozen feet away.

“How're you feeling?” Prishna greeted in a neutral tone.

“Better. Glad to be out of that bloody hospital.” She cracked the faintest of smiles and nodded at Prishna who hugged herself against the wind. “I hope you weren't waiting too long?”

Prishna returned Casey's grin with her own. Her eyebrows rose accordingly. “Not too long. Though I doubt we'll have much time before that front reaches us.”

Casey glanced at the approaching rain. A few drops stung her cheek.

“So, you're the toast of the Melbourne press and the force,” Casey said. “I hear you're in line for a commendation…and a promotion.”

Prishna maintained her smile. “Nothing gets past you, does it,” she responded evenly. “Why am I not surprised?”

Prishna turned her head to allow the wind to blow her hair clear from her face. “You've uncovered enough material to keep us in work for a very long time, Casey. They're talking about establishing a dedicated task force. It has exposed a lot of highly placed individuals not only within the Federal Government but also overseas.” Prishna exhaled audibly. “Who would have thought it? Organ harvesting right here in Australia.” Even now, she found the very mention of that fact difficult to process. “It was a huge operation, you know. Wealthy clients desperate for healthy organs were paying up to one million dollars for Fedele's services.”

Casey's jaw stiffened. Now it was her turn to shake her head.