The Body Thief by Chris Taylor Page A

attention to the patient.
    The woman’s heart, liver and kidneys had
been harvested in accordance with the consent Alistair had obtained
from her next of kin. The transplant teams had been in attendance
and once the organs were harvested and placed inside insulated
containers, the teams evaporated with their precious cargo, to be
couriered under police escort to the various hospitals around
Sydney where the transplants would then take place.
    It was an exciting, tense, nervous time
where every minute counted. Somewhere in the city, even now,
patients were being prepped for surgery. They would have received
the call they’d been waiting for—a donor organ had become
available, giving them another chance at life. He couldn’t help but
send a little prayer heavenwards that one day soon his mother might
be so lucky.
    The entire organ donation process filled
Alistair with indescribable hope. It was almost like playing God.
And now, if it meant he made a little extra money on the side, who
could argue with that? It was an excellent outcome for all
concerned, but right now, the woman on the table had so much more
to offer and Alistair was just the man to take advantage of it.
Working quickly, he removed the lungs, intestines and pancreas.
    Next, he pinned the woman’s eyelids open and
removed both corneas and the sclera. A lot of people didn’t pay any
heed to what they considered such insignificant tissues but for
Alistair, the thought that he might be responsible for helping a
blind person see was far too important to overlook. Besides,
Biologistics paid good money for eye tissue.
    He thought of the terms of his contract with
the US corporation and frowned. He was only in the second month of
his arrangement and already, he risked breaching its terms. August
was all but over and with temperatures rising, he was way below his
quota.
    He’d overlooked the fact that, as the
weather got warmer, the number of deaths decreased. As spring set
in, fewer people burned down their homes with faulty heaters or
crashed their cars driving over icy roads. Of course, there was
always the possibility of a heatwave in summer, cutting short a few
extra lives, but even if that happened, it wouldn’t be until
January. There was no way he could wait that long.
    While the CEO of Biologistics had been
amenable up until now, Charles Shillingworth had made it clear that
the company took its contracts seriously. There were plenty of
doctors around the world who were clamoring to be part of their
team. If Alistair failed to measure up to his promise, he’d quickly
be replaced.
    The thought of losing a second, substantial
stream of income put him into a slight panic. He’d used half of the
first payment bailing out Richard. His act of goodwill had bought
him unlimited access to the deputy coroner and Alistair didn’t ever
have to worry about risking refusal of an authorization from that
quarter, but it also meant he’d seen less than he’d like of the
promised windfall. If he could meet the terms of his contract long
enough to secure his long-term financial future, he’d be more than
pleased.
    The problem was finding and harvesting the
amount of tissue to fill his quota when fewer and fewer patients
were dying. It had become almost impossible to achieve. Even
recovering additional tissue that wasn’t included in the consent
hadn’t fully closed the gap.
    Alistair continued to justify his actions by
relying on the fact that the patient or their relative had agreed
to donate at least some of their organs. He was sure they wouldn’t
object to him taking all that was of use. What was the difference
between donating a heart or lungs or liver and the other things?
After all, what was the deceased going to do with them? If there
was one thing Alistair couldn’t stand, it was waste.
    Every day, people were dying around the
world from diseases or damage that could be repaired if there was
enough donated tissue to go around. It didn’t make sense to