Field of Graves(65)

A voice, deep and rich, drifted toward Taylor’s ears.

“She told me she was. That’s how I know. Honeychile told me she was riddin’ herself of the child. I told her it was a sin. She didn’t care. Never listened to old me anyways.”

Taylor turned and saw Tamika’s grandmother looking her straight in the eye. Taylor shuddered, and the woman laughed. “Don’t take sight to see, girl. I know you’re right there in front of me. Honeychile’s been acting stupid for a while now, whoring around, taking drugs. I told her it would come to no good. She don’t listen to her gran, though. I told her that man would kill her, one way or the other.” The woman turned away, and Taylor stood, frozen, as if Medusa had glared out of the woman’s sightless eyes.

“Ma’am, what man are you talking about? Does she have a boyfriend?”

“Haw,” the woman spit out. “Boyfriend. Girl, child like that, she got herself a pimp. A sugar daddy. He whores her out, gives her the drugs.”

“Do you have his name, ma’am? Any way I can contact him?”

The woman made the guttural noise again. Taylor understood it was a mirthless laugh. She got quiet, then seemed to shrink in on herself, drawing into the collar of her stained dressing gown like a turtle. The interview was obviously over.

Taylor took a deep breath and stared down at the little girl. The story was all too familiar.





52



“The medical examiner’s autopsy report found the girl had in fact procured an abortion within the past twelve hours. You were able to contact the doctor who performed the abortion, one Carl Murray?” asked the foreman.

The question yanked Taylor back into the small room. She nodded and licked her lips.

“Correct. I was given his name by one of Tamika’s friends. The girl only identified herself as Annya, wouldn’t give me her last name. She was the one who confirmed that Tamika had seen Dr. Murray earlier that day. I visited Dr. Murray, and he denied ever seeing the girl. There was no way to confirm either story. Unfortunately, even if he had performed an abortion on Tamika, I couldn’t prove it beyond a reasonable doubt.

“That’s when Annya called again. She asked me just how stupid I really was.” Taylor shook her head. “She told me about the setup. The word on the street was if you needed an abortion, you could go to Dr. Murray. He would do an abortion without parental consent for only a hundred dollars a pop. There was one catch. You had to bring as many boxes as you could of an over-the-counter decongestant known as pseudoephedrine hydrochloride with you. One hundred dollars and several packs of Sudafed? It was the deal of the century for these girls.

“Recognizing a possible criminal enterprise, I brought Annya on board as a confidential informant. With her contacts, I started seeing a trend. It wasn’t just the poor black girls going to Dr. Murray. It seemed everyone who Vice would have interest in was seeing him as well. Strippers, prostitutes, drug addicts—all of them were being funneled to Dr. Murray for abortions.”

“Which in itself is not necessarily illegal, is it, Lieutenant?” The foreman smiled at her gently. The grand jury knew all of the details of the case from their summary documents. For legal purposes, they needed to hear it from Taylor’s own mouth.

“No, sir, it isn’t. Incredibly unethical, but not illegal. I had a better chance of busting Dr. Murray for doing abortions on underage girls, but even that was tricky. If they show him an ID saying they’re sixteen, he’s covered.

“Something felt wrong to me. Rumors were swirling. Word on the street was there were other people involved, people in the police department, and drugs were playing a role. I didn’t want to make any unfounded accusations, but I needed to separate the truth from the rumors.

“I set up a loose surveillance on Dr. Murray’s office. It quickly became apparent that he had a very successful practice. Almost too successful to be handling a patient load that large. If I hadn’t been clued in about what he was doing I would have assumed he was just a very popular neighborhood doctor.

“That’s when I was contacted by Detective David Martin.”

*

The knock on the window of her unmarked vehicle made Taylor jump a mile. She looked out to see the grinning face of David Martin, one of the detectives in Homicide. He was blowing her cover, damn it. She put down her window in annoyance.

“What’s up, David?”

“What’s up with you, Taylor? Sitting on a house?”

She just smiled. “What can I do for you?”

He smiled back. “We need to talk about what’s going on with the esteemed Dr. Murray. I know you’re looking at him, and there’s something going on that may involve the department. I’ve got some information for you. Let’s go get something to eat and talk about it.”

Taylor’s first impression was that David had gotten information and was there to help her bust whoever was involved. She couldn’t have been more wrong.

She followed him as he drove to the Shoney’s across the bridge from police headquarters. Taylor noted that they were well away from Dr. Murray’s office.

They went inside. Martin ordered coffee and eggs from a robust waitress. Taylor asked for Diet Coke. Her appetite had left her back at the stakeout.

Martin leaned back in the booth and gave her a lazy grin. “So, Taylor. Whatcha been up to lately?”