Some might argue that getting the press involved had backfired, causing a slew of activity downstairs that had the potential to slow things down. Then again, as far as Roy Devitt was concerned, the most direct route might be the best route in a case that had gone haywire in more than one way.
As expected, Conden had been summoned to a press conference by now, the Police Chief being extraordinarily careful about his choice of words, requesting for the kidnappers to release Gifford along with Mike and Steve, while promising that the intense search for their missing colleagues would continue on until everyone was found safe and sound.
In other words, Conden wasn't just ready to turn over every rock in their way to look for his men, he was prepared to reshuffle the entire stack of cards when it came to everyone involved in this case, all the while taking on the role of the concerned Commander in Chief in front of the press, trying not to aggravate their cartel more than necessary while making it clear that there would be no negotiations with terrorists.
The press had been eating the story up like Grandma's lasagna, each channel setting aside a time block for an exclusive report on the developments of the case, especially due to Gifford's popularity amongst the readers of the San Francisco Telegraph; the curious connection of the reporter gone missing alongside the two Homicide detectives she'd shadowed lost on absolutely nobody.
Even before the press conference was over, word had come in from various radio channels talking about the situation, not shying away from speculations ranging from a derailed fan gone postal to a potential love triangle turned murder-suicide.
Midway through, Roy had asked his men to stop keeping him up to date on those developments, the words airing across town too much to bear for his weary soul.
Whether he wanted to admit it or not, there was a small chance that the media circus created might cause the exact opposite, as it had done in a few other kidnapping cases of the past; that being the murder of their cartel's victims to rid themselves of the high-profile people in their captivity.
Then again, if Murchison was right, that may be an inevitable outcome altogether.
A careful knock on the door pulled him out of his grim thoughts and Roy glanced up, gasping in surprise when Bernie greeted him at the other end of Mike's office, the tall ME waiting to be acknowledged before coming in.
"You decided to enter the lion's den, I see.", he greeted only to watch Bernie cock his head in sympathy.
"I just heard what happened. I guess I am still trying to wrap my mind around the whole issue."
"That makes several of us, my friend. From what we can tell, this was a very targeted attack, I guess you could call it surgical. No evidence, no witnesses, no ransom notes. They found Mike's fedora and traces of presumably Steve's blood near the cars, but that's it. For all we know, they may want them for something entirely different than monetary compensation."
With a weary sigh, Roy leaned back in Mike's chair and ran a hand through his silver hair, then rubbing his dry eyes for a small reprieve from studying what little there had been uncovered regarding the case.
"If they're following their MO, they might decide to use them as…as a spare parts supply of sorts. Could bring double benefits of silencing any witnesses in their way while filling customer orders."
Bernie's grim train of thought caused Roy to nod slowly, then push the thought out of his mind as quickly as possible, unwilling to even consider a scenario like that.
"I still think that this whole idea of transplanting limbs has too many wrinkles.", the ME then continued, "Just like with organ transplantation, trying to find a good match would be incredibly difficult. Now add in the immense amount of surgical work required to re-attach a leg or an arm and to oversee that healing process…I am just…I am just not sold on that."
Reaching for the box of cigarettes he finished hours ago, Roy cleared his throat.
"I've been thinking about the same thing actually. As a matter of fact, I have yet to hear of any surgeon who performed such an operation successfully. It's just too…futuristic. But then my robbery head started to kick in, and I can't help but wonder if these guys…well…I wonder if they are taking advantage of their victim's hopes and dreams and using the down payment to finance their own research into this type of surgery. Think about it; all you need is a doctor who lacks any sort of moral compass and a handful of guys who organize this whole gig, kidnap people and possibly dispose of the bodies. If the customers die before the research is complete, oh well. They get to keep the money. Consider it a high stakes poker game for their customers, rich, influential people who could be coerced into spending thousands of dollars on a down payment while these guys dangle the possibility of a certain return to normalcy in front of them. It's no different than telling cancer patients that there's hope that a new, untested vaccine can cure them and the more money they contribute, the higher on the list they are for when the vaccine is available. It's brilliant if it wasn't so…morally repulsive."
"Yeah, that's pretty much what Steve and I talked about when he came down to the morgue the other day. Our boys probably stumbled right into the hornet's nest of this group and now they could be god knows where…"
"We have a bit of start, albeit not much.", Roy interjected and handed a copy of the sales slip over to Bernie, the ME's somber brown eyes lighting up somewhat upon understanding the content, "There's a receipt for some formaldehyde and other stuff that was delivered to a warehouse in Woodville. Conden has us on lockdown until the Feds get here tonight, then we can start sectoring out the immediate area, check every house, every basement, every possible place they might be kept at. I don't care if I have two men helping me or two hundred. They gotta be somewhere up there. And we're going to bring them back in one piece."
Upon his passionate explanation, Bernie nodded and cocked his head toward the map of the greater San Francisco area.
"There is something else you might want to keep in mind as you start going through the area. These receipt contents…well…we're talking about a good size operation here. These guys are going to need storage capacities. The cold storage supplies are for large coolers and the amount of formaldehyde ordered is unlike anything I have ever seen. You could fill a small pool with that."
Roy hesitated, unsure where the ME was going with that information.
"A very large warehouse then?"
"You better believe it.", Bernie continued and handed the copy back, "And before you start looking for a needle in the haystack, I would check with the local power company on electricity usage. Coolers that size will require significantly more power than anything you'd come across in orchards."