In the captain's office, Renard's face had turned black as thunder after hearing his two subordinates' report. Even his usually impeccable control over his expression had slipped.
"What do you mean, suspected large-scale illegal trafficking in human organs and blood? What kind of bastard would dare do something like that in Portland?"
As a senior member of the police department, Renard knew better than anyone how powerful the forces behind this kind of business could be.
Every year, more than 100,000 people across America waited for organ transplants, and nearly twenty died waiting almost every day. The average wait for a legally obtained kidney was three to five years, and many people simply could not hold on until their turn for surgery came.
Where there was demand, a market would naturally emerge. On the black market, the final price of a healthy kidney could reach $200,000 on the demand side, while its "purchase" price on the supply side was usually less than $2,000. The enormous profits involved were easy to imagine.
Precisely because of those enormous profits, the forces that dared engage in this business could not be small fry. Their backers might not be as powerful as those of arms companies, but they were bound to have patrons such as senators.
Moreover, organ transplantation not only had a high barrier to entry, but also involved the medical field, which meant there were many connections that needed greasing. That also meant a vast web of vested interests.
Now that the case was in front of them, not investigating was impossible. But if they really investigated and uncovered something, never mind two lowly detectives like Nick and Hancock-even a certain captain with formidable connections felt somewhat at a loss.
That was why Renard had summoned the two of them to his