Faithless in Death (In Death #52) - J.D. Robb Page 0,106
but her demands to be released have decreased. Mild depression is being treated. Hormone therapy has, of course, added to mood swings. We will continue talk therapy as well as closely supervised exercise, including the allotted time out of doors. Restraints remain necessary.’ ”
Reo took a long drink. “And there we go.”
“This file,” Eve continued, “documents Huffman ordered a mild sedative on the insemination date, as well as restraints. She repeated the process on the next day to increase probability of conception. Then we have the OB nurse monitoring for forty-eight hours before she administered the pregnancy test. Positive.
“More files follow the exams and monitoring of the pregnancy, the nutrition, prescribed exercise, medication.”
“Jesus, look at the shrink report. She’s Patient A now,” Peabody said. “ ‘Patient A has embraced her pregnancy and is very cooperative. She refers to the fetus as “my baby,” talks of the names she’s chosen, and has moved into a calm and somewhat dreamy state in her thirty-first week.’ ”
“We move to the birth. Huffman again has her sedated, not out, just a mild sedative. She induces labor—that’s control again. You’ve got all the birth stuff, the progression of labor—lots of the OB nurse’s notes and initials over a ten-hour period. Then the data on the delivery, male, length, weight, the screenings—a healthy baby boy. Pass the fucking cigars.”
“Then they took the baby,” Nadine put in. “Monitored her for the next forty-eight when she became Resident Female.”
“Is there any documentation on what they did with her?”
“Young,” Eve pointed out, “healthy pregnancy and birth? I’m betting they kept her there as a breeder, or sold her to some guy. There are more like this—I scanned—and we can go through all of them.”
“I’ll need to,” Reo affirmed, “but for now?”
“For now, there are several with names—first names—ages, races, recruiter name, location of contact. And the name of the husband, his status in the order, his profession. Date of conception, whether it was by natural means or insemination.”
“Wilkey donated his sperm. I know I’m jumping ahead,” Nadine said, “but it applies here. If the husband’s wasn’t viable, Wilkey’s was often used.”
“What a generous guy,” Peabody muttered.
“There’s more documentation from the clinic the Huffmans run here in New York,” Eve continued. “Files on females, physicals prior to conception, monitoring of pregnancies, and so on. The same for the facilities at HQ.
“Then there’s accounting. Once she decided to cut ties, this nurse was as thorough as she could manage. I skimmed a bit, and clearly we’re going to match some if not all of the names with payments to Natural Order, to the Huffmans, to the medical staff. We’ve got a spreadsheet—Wait.”
She zipped through until she brought it up. “See there. Names of candidates, date of contact, recruiter, payments. Marriage payment on the profit side, right? Medical fees—Natural Order splits those with the husbands—then the payment—the bonus—for each live, healthy birth.”
“Buying babies. I can work with that, too.”
“Thought you could. It’s all there, Reo, payments for young females, deductions for medical fees, training fees, housing fees, and so on. The bonuses. And for another bonus?”
She switched data. “Our unidentified source managed to get her hands on some of the records from the island’s Realignment center. Names again—or subject numbers—dates, treatments—which is what they call torture. All of these records jibe with Gwen Huffman’s statement on her experience with same.
“And you have a few files on success rate, failures, mortality. Assignments and destinations. Clearly some of these people are kept on the island as laborers. As slaves, or as forced breeders.”
Eve paused, smiled thinly. “I’m sending all this to Abernathy at Interpol. That should get their asses in gear.”
“I’m going to get your warrants, Dallas.”
“Fucking A.”
“I need copies of all of this, and we’ll review it all, make our case for those warrants. You’ve got the FBI on this, so I want one of them in the offices.”
“I’ll make that happen.”
Reo tipped her wrist to check the time. “We have to talk details. Our wits ID’d Oliver Huffman and others at the crime scene. They ID’d Mirium Wilkey as their so-called recruiter, Po as the conduit. And I’ll get those warrants. I’ll sure as hell get one for Lawrence Piper, for Stanton Wilkey. I need why you want to arrest Mirium Wilkey for the murder of Ariel Byrd.”
“It’s a long, convoluted story. But I’m right.”
“Then I’m glad I went for red meat.” Reo paused for a fry. “Tell me a story.”
Once she had, Reo packed up her things. “I’m going to need