The Case of the Deadly Scalpel
Chapter 20
1
Sherry Schulte walked forward from the back of the courtroom. When she arrived at the gate, Perry Mason opened it for her. She gave him a look of disdain as she passed through. She was sworn in and sat down in the witness stand.
Mason walked over to her. "Please state your name and your relationship to the deceased."
"My name is Sherry Schulte. I was married to Corbin." She turned to the judge. "I thought I couldn't be forced to testify against my husband."
"Mrs Schulte, your husband is not on trial here. He is deceased. You are not testifying against him. You will answer the defence attorney's questions."
She turned abruptly away from the judge, making it clear she didn't like his answer. Schulte hoped he would excuse her from testifying. Instead, he was going to let Mason rip her apart on the stand. The damn lawyer was going to do his best to make her look bad.
"Mr Mason, you may start your examination," Judge Herman Thatcher instructed.
Mason stared into Schulte's eyes until she looked away from him. The lawyer was well aware of the effect he had on witnesses. "Mrs Schulte, you were in the hospital on the day your husband was murdered, were you not?"
Schulte immediately became defensive. "Oh no you don't, Mason! I know what you are trying to do. You are not hanging his murder on me!"
Mason looked up at the judge. He didn't have to say a word. Thatcher immediately admonished the witness.
"Mrs Schulte, you will answer Mr Mason's questions and nothing more. Is that clear?"
"He is accusing me of killing my husband!"
"You will answer his questions and nothing more," Thatcher said more forcefully.
She turned away from the judge. He was going to let Mason accuse her. Despite wanting to stand up to Mason and the judge, she sat back in the chair and said nothing further.
"Do you need me to repeat the question?" Mason asked.
Without looking at the lawyer, she snapped, "No!"
When she said nothing further, Mason repeated, "Were you in the hospital the day your husband was murdered?"
"I don't remember."
"You don't remember? Your husband just had major surgery and you can't remember whether you were in the hospital?"
"All right, I was in the hospital, but I didn't go near his room."
"No?"
"No!"
"What was your relationship with your husband like?"
"Objection!" Gary Sullivan called out. "The witness's relationship with her husband is irrelevant. She is not the one who is on trial here."
Mason turned his attention to the judge. "Your Honor, the defence has the right to show that someone other than the defendant had the motive for killing Corbin Schulte."
Thatcher didn't hesitate. "The objection is overruled. However, I caution the defence attorney not to accuse this witness without proof."
Mason smiled. "Of course not."
With his attention now back on Schulte, he asked, "Would you say your marriage was a happy one?"
"I would say that we were comfortable with one another. We understood each other."
"Did you love your husband?"
She hesitated. Schulte was well aware of the penalty of lying on the stand. On the other hand, she did not want to give Mason any ammunition to accuse her of killing Corbin. "No, I can't say that I did. Not for a long time."
"Then, why did you stay with him?"
"The same reason a lot of women stay in a loveless marriage. Money. I had no way to support myself."
Mason walked back to the defence table. Della Street handed him a file. Keeping his eyes down on the file, Mason strolled back to Schulte. "Mrs Schulte, according to your husband's lawyer, he filed for divorce. Were you aware of that?"
"No, I was not." Realizing her answer could be disproved, she immediately decided to backtrack. "Actually, I was served a paper from the court. I didn't read it. It could have been a service for divorce. I don't really know."
"You received service from the court and you didn't read it?" Mason said feigning surprise.
"That's right," she said, making it known she didn't like the lawyer questioning her answer.
Walking back to the The defense table, Della handed him another paper. Mason returned to the stand. He handed the paper to Schulte. "Will you tell the court what that paper says?"
She glanced over it. Damn Paul Drake! He obviously had given the information to Mason. Still, she had no choice but to answer the sleazy lawyer. "It seems to be an account in my husband's name."
"And who is listed as the beneficiary on the account?"
Damn the man! Despite being told he couldn't accuse her of murder, that is exactly what he was trying to do. Again, she had no choice but to answer his question. "I am listed as the beneficiary."
Sullivan had to stop Mason's momentum. "Your Honor, I have been patient, but Mr Mason is getting pretty far afield. I do not see what this has to do with Corbin Schulte's murder." He stood behind the prosecution table tapping his pen.
Thatcher raised an eyebrow. "You don't? As Mr Mason stated earlier, he has the right to show someone else also had motive to kill Corbin Schulte. Money is often the motive in a murder. Of all people, you are well aware of that. Your objection, if that is what that was, is overruled. You may continue, Mr Mason."
Mason walked over to the witness stand. "Mrs Schulte, would you read the balance in the account?"
Schulte said nothing. She knew exactly how this was going to look. What difference did it make? Upon her husband's death, that money belonged to her. She had every right to withdraw it.
Mason allowed her to remain silent. The longer she did, the worse it looked for her. Finally, he demanded, "What is the amount in the bank account?" He raised his voice to a thunder.
She looked up at him with hatred. "It has $500,000 in the account." A little murmur sounded around the room.
Did you go to the Wells Fargo Bank and demand to withdraw $500,000 from the account in question?"
"I had every right to that money. I was the beneficiary. The money became mine upon my husband's death."
Mason smiled. "Yes, indeed. You were well aware of that."
"Objection!"
"Sustained."
"You testified earlier that you were in the hospital at the time of your husband's murder. You also testified that you were not in his room. If you were not in your husband's room, then where were you?"
"I don't remember. I think I was in the waiting room down the hall."
"Let me see if I understand your testimony," Mason said. "You were in a loveless marriage. Your husband was filing for divorce. He had $500,000 in an account which you attempted to withdraw as the beneficiary, and you were down the hall from where his murder took place. Is that a correct summation of your testimony?"
She looked directly at Mason. "That's right, Mason. And you can't prove I had anything to do with Corbin's murder."
"But you certainly had a motive, didn't you?"
"Objection!" Sullivan shot out of his seat.
Mason smiled. "I withdraw the question." He didn't need an answer. He already made his point. She had a motive to murder her husband and she had an opportunity as she admittedly was down the hall from his room. "Your witness," Mason said as he walked back to the defense table.
Sullivan stood up, he had only one question. "Mrs Schulte, did you murder your husband?"
"Absolutely not!"
"That is all. Thank you."
Judge Thatcher excuse the witness. "Mr Mason, call your next witness."
2
Paul Drake and Carly Williams arrived at the hospital. Drake was about to make a decision he hoped he didn't regret. In his private conversation with Chief Ironside, he was to trust her if she agreed to work with him. The chief also told him to keep an eye on her. Well, how was he going to do that if they split up? He personally didn't trust Williams. As far as he was concerned, she was a loose cannon. There was no telling what she might do.
They entered the hospital together. Drake looked down at Williams, who was more than a foot shorter than he was. This was it — time would tell if she was sincere. If she hadn't got the message as to what Ironside could do to her, she never would.
"What do you want me to do?" Carly asked Drake.
"You talk to the nurses who were on the floor when Schulte was murdered. Find out what you can."
"Okay." Carly turned around to leave when Drake stopped her.
"Just a minute Miss Williams," he said, calling her back to him.
She walked back. "Is there a problem Mr Drake?"
"No problem. I just wanted to remind you that you can only push someone so far. When you reach that point, you need to back off and find another way to get answers from her. Be careful of the tactics you use. Remember, you are going to run across people who just aren't going to give you information. If you sense they know more than they are telling you, then further investigation of that person will be necessary. Alright?"
She smiled. "You still don't trust me, do you Mr Drake?"
"It doesn't have anything to do with trust." Drake almost choked on his own words. Of course he didn't trust her. She certainly hadn't given him reason to do so. Nevertheless, he had to
encourage her. "It has everything to do with knowing just how far you can push someone. Chances are they will give you enough information that is useful, even if they don't realize they are giving it to you. Oh, and by the way, you can call me Paul."
She smiled at him. "And you can call me Carly."
"Carly it is!" Drake said. "Now let's split up. We can cover more territory if we do."
"Sounds good. What time do you want to meet back here?" she asked.
"Do you have a cell phone on you?"
Reaching into her pocket, she pulled out her Samsung phone and showed it to Drake.
"Good, what's your phone number?" Drake asked.
She couldn't help herself. "Why, Paul, are you hitting on me?"
Drake smiled. "We need to communicate. The best way to do that is one of us calling or texting the other. There is no set time. We will take whatever time we need to investigate."
With that, they split up and headed in opposite directions.
Carly looked over her shoulder as she walked away from Drake. Was he for real? After the way Ironside had treated her when she went to his office, she couldn't help but question his and Drake's motives. Were they just trying to keep her busy and out of their hair? Or, were they being sincere about the two of them working together, resulting in Ironside helping her get a job with the San Francisco Chronicle?
She couldn't shake the feeling that they were just gas lighting her. Yet, on the other hand, if she could get Ironside, it just might make the difference of landing a job in San Francisco. As a journalist, she never quite trusted anybody, especially the police. Then again, what choice did she really have? If she decided not to work with Drake, Ironside would have her tailed. He would interfere every step of the way in her investigations.
She arrived on the floor where the murder took place. She stopped at what was Corbin Schulte's room. As luck would have it, the room was empty. After taking a look around to make sure no one was paying attention to her, she entered the room. She closed the door just far enough to block the sight of anyone passing by. Carly looked around the room. She wondered why she would even bother looking. Anything that could possibly help would be long gone. Maybe someone planned it that way. The sun was shining in the window. It made it almost impossible to see anything at all. Walking over to the window, she decided to close the blinds. Before she did, something shiny was reflecting off the sun. Carly immediately walked over to the front of the bed. Looking down, she figured it was just the sun reflecting off the bed's wheels. Nevertheless, she decided to take a closer look at the wheel. She grinned when she saw what it was. A badge of some kind was stuck to the wheel. Even if the bed was rolled out of its position, it would have been easy to miss it. Carly bent down and removed the item. It was a nurse's badge.
She took the badge and went to the nurse's station. Carly had no intention of returning the badge, however, she definitely wanted to talk to the nurse whom the badge belonged to. She told the individual at the desk that she needed to speak with the nurse whose name was on the badge. Carly kept the badge concealed. She wasn't about to get it up. Carly was told it was the nurse's day off. She needed to find Paul Drake. She had a feeling the lost badge was very important. She knew there wasn't any way to determine when it was lost since it was magnetically attached to the bed's wheel. It could have been there for some time. Yet, she didn't think so.
Carly pulled her cell phone out of her pocket. She opened the text application and told Drake what she had found. He told her to meet him at the front door of the hospital.
When she arrived, Drake was already waiting for her. She showed him the nurse's badge.
Drake smiled. "Excellent work. Maybe you should forgo the journalism career and become a private detective."
"I'll tell you what, Paul. If a journalism career doesn't pan out, I'll give you a call." She was grinning from ear to ear. "What did you find out?"
"I got a list of everyone in the hospital. Guess what?"
"Well if I was a betting gal, I'd say you probably found out that the nurse on that badge was in the hospital and on the same floor at the time the murder took place."
"I'm glad I didn't bet against you. You are exactly right!"
"Do you think we're getting somewhere?"
"You may have just broken this case wide open by finding that badge. Let's head over to the police station. I have a contact there. We will find out if the nurse in question has a record."
Carly made a sweeping gesture with her hand toward the door. "After you."
"A gentleman never goes in front of a woman. After you!"
3
"Mark, the day is not getting any younger and neither am I!" Ironside shouted. He was anxious to get started. By now, Paul, and hopefully Carly Williams, were back at the hospital trying to dig up leads. They had to get this investigation going. Things had been extremely slow and dragging. Ironside wasn't used to that.
Mark Sanger entered the main room of Ironside's office. "Chief, I was ready a half hour ago. I've been waiting on you."
"Well, wait no longer. Let's get moving. Ironside headed for the ramp. Sanger ran to catch up with him, grabbing his jacket from the railing as he passed by it.
After settling in the van, Ironside ordered Sanger to just drive until he decided where they were going. Mark never knew whether to speed up or slow down. Whichever one he chose, no doubt, his boss would complain about his driving. This time he decided to speed up. It didn't take long before Ironside voiced his disapproval.
"If you get a ticket, you are going to pay it."
"Okay that answers my question." Mark slowed the vehicle.
"Answers what question?"
"Whether you want me to drive like Mario Andretti or a little old lady. Today it's the little old lady."
Ironside shook his head as he picked up the vehicle's handset. "This is Ironside. If any of you beat cops spotted Smitty, I want to know?"
Ironside received one reply after another. It was the final one that he was interested in.
"Hey Chief, Officer Duffy here. I just went by him a few minutes ago. If he's still there, you'll find him on skid row."
"Thanks, Duffy. If you're close by, make sure he doesn't leave. We are on our way."
"Head for skid row, Mark. While you're at it, pick up some speed. You're driving like a little old lady."
"I thought I would get a ticket if I drove too fast"
"You will, and you will pay it. So, put the pedal to the metal!" Ironside said.
Mark shook his head. With a little luck, Duffy would be the only beat cop in their path. Otherwise, Mark would have a ticket to pay.
Driving well above the speed limit, Sanger kept looking in his rearview mirror expecting to see those flashing lights. Fortunately, they never came. He wondered if they were pulled over by the police, would they really ticket Ironside's van?
He pulled to a stop at the end of the street that everyone called skid row. He shut off the ignition and got out of the vehicle. Ironside was already lowering himself in the lift to the sidewalk. Spotting officer Duffy, he began wheeling toward him. He caught Duffy's eye, who met him halfway.
"He's right down there on the left," Officer Duffy told him.
Looking in the direction his officer was pointing, Ironside said, "You and Mark better come with me in case he bolts."
The street was loaded with vagrants and down on their luck homeless men who had nowhere to go. When Smitty saw Ironside, he didn't attempt to run, rather, he headed straight for him.
"Hello, Chief. What brings you down here?"
"Smitty," Ironside responded. "What are you doing down here? This is not your usual playground."
"A man's got to make a living, Chief. You would be surprised how much these guys know about what's going on in the city. I dare say it's more than the police."
"So what kind of information are you trying to collect today?"
"Come on, Chief, I deserve a little more credit than that. Where do you think I get all that information that I give you?"
"You mean that you sell me, don't you?"
"Like I said, a man has to make a living. Now, what can I do for you?"
"You ever hear of Benny Stoner?" Ironside asked.
"If I hadn't, I wouldn't be much use to you, now would I? I gather information. I'm like a human Wikipedia."
"You mean a snitch," Mark said. Duffy couldn't help but smile. Sanger never sugar coated anything. He told it like it was.
"Snitch is an ugly word," Smitty said with a smile. I much prefer to be known as a collector of information."
Ironside knew if he didn't cut off this conversation, it would start a back and forth that would last forever.
"Stoner," Ironside repeated.
Smitty smiled. "Now that is a name I know well. However, if I give you information on Benny Stoner, it's going to cost you. You see, Chief, if he ever found out where you got the information, I'd be a dead man."
"The kind of information I'm looking for, you will never have to worry about Benny Stoner again."
"Ah, now I see. This has to do with that surgeon who killed Corbin Schulte."
"He didn't kill Schulte," Ironside corrected.
"Says who?"
"Says me," Ironside said. "Have you got anything or not?"
"I got plenty, but like I said, it's going to cost you."
Ironside looked over at Mark. His aid knew exactly why he was looking. "Come on, Chief, I don't have much money, and payday is not for a week."
Ironside continued to stare at him." Showing frustration, Mark reached into his pocket and pulled out a small wad of bills. Ironside reached into the money and removed a $100 bill. Reaching out, he handed it to Smitty. "Now, what have you got?"
"The word on the street is that the doctor had nothing to do with Schulte's murder."
"I know that. You have to do better than that."
"I'm not sure who committed the murder, but Benny Stoner is the one who ordered it. You see, Schulte provided prostitutes for Stoner when the big guys met in town, or at least he was supposed to. Stoner paid him a lot of money to be sure there were enough prostitutes to go around for the wise guys who were meeting. He decided to go into the hospital for some elective surgery. You probably know what kind, I don't. Anyway, when he went into the hospital, the girls all decided to quit. They decided not to extend their services for the guys at Stover's meeting. Apparently, Schulte even contacted Sharon Duncan, trying to set up the girls. You probably already know that she runs a whorehouse. Anyway, he tried to get her to provide the prostitutes. She wouldn't do it because he cheated her out of money, and she figured she wouldn't get paid this time either. So, he was stuck. He couldn't provide the prostitutes that Stoner ordered. If you know Benny at all, he was furious. You see, the meeting was supposed to cement a relationship between all of them. It was going to mean a lot more money for Stoner. I don't know exactly how, but that is the word on the street.
"Like I said, he was furious. You don't disappoint Stoner and get away with it." Smitty stop talking.
"And?" Ironside said impatiently.
"You don't expect me to give you all this information for free, do you?"
Ironside gave Mark the same look he did the first time.
"Chief, you know I've been saving this money." Ironside continued to stare at him. Shaking his head, Sanger reached into his pocket and pulled out his money once again. Ironside removed another $100 bill and gave it to Smitty. "I better get this back."
Smitty grinned and took the money. "Obviously Stoner could not go into the hospital and make the hit himself. That would be too obvious. So he decided to have it done on the inside. Before you ask me who, I don't know. I only know that someone in the hospital had the ability to get the key to that doctor's office. Whoever it was, removed the key and removed the gold scalpel. After Schulte was murdered, the individual just reversed the process. Since there were only two keys to that office, and the one being locked in the head doctor's office, that person would be able to get away with it. In other words your doctor friend was set up. After all, the word is that Schulte forced him to do the surgery. He had something on him. And no, I don't know what it was. That information has never been revealed. Now tell me, isn't my information worth more than a measly $200?" He tilted his head and smiled.
Ironside turned his chair and began wheeling away. "Mark, he's right."
Mark gave Smitty a disgusted look, but pulled out another hundred and gave it to him.
Smitty took it and put the money in his pocket. "Nice doing business with you, Chief!"
"With him?" Mark said and walked away from the snitch.
As the detective wheeled away, he thanked Officer Duffy for his help. Once they were back in the van, Mark began to complain. "Chief, do I get my money back?"
"Do you realize that Smitty just gave us the clue that is going to solve this case?"
"That's all well and good, but what about my money?"
"I would think you would be happy that your money is helping to solve this case," Ironside said.
"Fine, I'm happy, now what about my money?"
Ironside couldn't put him on any longer. He could see Mark was actually getting upset. "Relax, you should know by now that there is a fund for this kind of thing. You'll get your money back."
"When?"
His boss chuckled. "Well, you're not going to get it back sitting here. Put this bus on the road."
"Where to?"
"Now where do you think?"
"Headquarters."
Ironside grinned and nodded his head. "And Mark, don't drive like a little old lady."
4
Sergeant Ed Brown and Officer Whitfield drove slowly down the street where a lot of prostitutes hung out.
"Do we even know what Beverly Milner looks like?" Eve Whitfield asked.
"All I have is a description of her."
"That's just lovely! Take a look at these girls. Ed, they all look alike. The only difference is the color of their hair. Their clothes are all the same, and they are all heavily made up with makeup."
Sergeant Brown pulled across the street and parked the car. He looked up and down the street. Eve was right, there wasn't much difference between the girls. They all did look alike. How was he supposed to find Beverly Milner with nothing but a description, and one that wasn't very descriptive?
"Can I make a suggestion?" Eve asked.
"I'm all ears," Brown replied.
Before he could answer her, one of the prostitutes walked up to his vehicle, and said, "Are you looking for some company, honey?" Then she noticed Eve sitting in the passenger seat of his vehicle. "Oh, sorry, I didn't realize you already picked one up."
Insulted and indignant, Eve set her straight. "I'm not a prostitute."
"Sure you aren't, honey. But let me give you a piece of advice, you're not going to pick up very many johns looking like that."
"She's not a prostitute, she's a cop," Ed corrected her.
"Just my luck. I suppose you're going to take me downtown now."
Sergeant Brown got out of the car. He could see that she was contemplating running, but in those spiked heels, she must have realized she could never outrun him. She held her ground.
"Well, am I busted or not?"
"That depends," Ed said.
"On what?"
"The answers to my questions."
She put her hands on her hips. "Don't tell me you're going to want me to be a snitch."
"No, no snitching. Can you tell me where I can find Beverly Milner?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"I just want to ask her some questions. This is not a bust."
"All right then. I'm Beverly Milner. "What questions?"
"You knew Corbin Schulte, is that right?"
"If you are here asking me that question, then you already know the answer. What do you want to know?"
"What was your relationship with Schulte?" Ed asked.
Eve Whitfield got out of the car and joined Ed. When Milner hesitated answering him, Eve spoke up. "I would suggest you answer Sergeant Brown, or this could very well become a bust."
"What the hell do you think my relationship with him was? He was my pimp. You already know that, so why don't you stop beating around the bush and ask me what it is you want to know?"
"All right, tell me where you were when he was murdered?" Ed asked.
"Oh I see now. You're looking for somebody to hang his murder on. I thought you looked familiar. You work for Ironside, and Ironside is the brother of the lawyer that is defending him. Well, you can't hang that murder on me. I wasn't even in town."
"Can you prove that?" Eve asked doubting her word.
"As a matter of fact I can. I convinced Corbin to give me some time off. My mother was very ill. I flew to New York. I am sure you can substantiate that with no problem. Sorry, Sargent, but you are going to have to look somewhere else for your murderer. I don't envy your job. Everybody I know hated Corbin Schulte with a passion. Anyone of dozens of people could have done it. However, I will give you a tip. Benny Stoner. I am sure you have heard that name. Check him out. My understanding is he ordered the murder of Corbin Schulte."
"How do you know that?" Ed said.
"I just know. Now, can you let me get back to work? I need the money. I didn't make any money in New York. I couldn't work. My mother doesn't know what I do for a living. I'd like to keep it that way. Seriously, Benny may not have committed the actual murder, but he was certainly responsible for ordering it."
"From your tone, I take it you're not fond of Stoner or Schulte," Eve surmised.
"I hate them both. Corbin got me into this, and I can't get out because of Stoner. You see, I'm one of his favorites. I have no reason to lie to you. In fact, I have plenty of reasons to tell you the truth. Corbin is gone, but that doesn't help me at all. Benny will never let me quit. It is to my advantage if you can nail that son of a bitch."
"Okay, thanks for your help," Ed said.
"Why can't I ever land a guy like you? You know, decent and upstanding."
"Well you could try dating instead of turning tricks," Eve said.
"You nail Stoner, and I'll be able to do exactly that." She turned and walked away.
Ed watched her leave, "Come on, Eve, let's get back to headquarters. The chief is going to want to know what we found out."
5
Paul Drake and Carly Williams approached the personnel office. Drake stopped and looked around.
"What are we waiting for? Let's get in there and find out who killed Schulte, Carly said impatiently.
"The door is locked." Paul continued to scan the halls. The last thing he wanted was to become conspicuous. So far, no one had paid any attention to them. He wanted to keep it that way.
"You're a private eye. You mean to tell me you don't know how to pick a lock?"
"Of course I know how to pick a lock," Drake said indignantly. "The problem is, that's called breaking and entering."
"We're not going to break down the door. We're going to pick the lock. So technically, it's only entering."
"It doesn't matter whether we break down the door or pick the lock, it is still breaking and entering."
A nurse came up behind them. "He's right, it would be breaking and entering. However, it's not breaking and entering if I let you in."
Drake was upset with himself. He hadn't heard her approach them. Carly Williams had him off his game. "Just exactly who are you, and do you have the authorization to let me in the personnel office?"
"My name is Jill Gilbert. Actually, I am a nurse's aide part of the time, and part of the time I work in this office. I have seen you with Perry Mason. And since the two of you are trying to get into the personnel office, I suspect you're detectives working for Mason. Am I right?"
"Not quite. He's the detective, I'm a journalist." Carly was quick to correct her.
Gilbert pulled out a key and unlocked the personnel office. "Hurry up and get inside!" Drake and Williams followed her in and shut the door. "Don't turn on the lights. No one is ever in this office at this time. You're going to have to depend on a flashlight, and it better be a very faint one. If we get caught here, I'll get fired, and you'll probably be arrested."
"When you work for Mason, you always have one foot in the jail cell," Drake mumbled.
"What did you say?" Jill asked him.
"Never mind, it's not important. We got a tip that someone in this hospital is responsible for murdering Corbin Schulte."
"I have thought that all along. Actually, I heard Teresa Farnsworth threatened to kill Corbin Schulte. She doesn't know what I heard. I was standing outside the door. Is that of any help?"
"Does she work for this hospital?" Drake inquired.
"No she does not. I just thought I'd mention it because from what I've seen on TV, lawyers are always looking to show that someone beside their client had the opportunity and reason to murder the victim."
"Look," Carly said, "We want to take a look at the personnel files. Can you tell us who would have been working that day, and if they had access to Corbin Schulte's room?"
Gilbert reached into a file cabinet. She went to the back of a folder and pulled out a sheet of paper. "This is a list of all of the people who would have been working at the time the man was murdered. As far as who would have access to his room, probably all of them would. As you know, anybody can walk into one of the patient rooms. He had been brought up from recovery, so his room wouldn't be any different than anyone else's. Like I said, anyone could have entered it."
"The video cameras were shut off at the time of the murder," Drake said. "Can we start with the employees that would have been working on the floor?"
"Sure, no problem at all." She pulled out the front sheet of paper that was in the file. She handed it to Drake. "This is everybody that was on the floor at the time. I can't guarantee that someone was on the floor for another reason."
Carly stood beside Paul Drake reading the list. "And this was everybody that was on the floor?"
Drake nodded her head. "Yes, although I can't account for people who might have been visiting at that hour.
"Doesn't everyone that comes to visit a patient have to sign in?" Paul Drake asked.
"They don't sign a sheet if that's what you're asking. What they do have to do is write their name on a sticker badge which shows the patient they are visiting and the floor they are going to be on."
"What about employees that would have access to Dr Witt's office?" Carly questioned.
Gilbert returned her attention to Williams. "All employees are required to wear a badge which gives their name, the floor that they are assigned, in their position such as the registered nurse. The only ones who don't wear badges are the doctors. Almost all of them have offices outside the hospital. Dr Stern is the exception."
"Do you know of anyone who had a grudge against Dr Stern?" Drake asked.
"Not that I'm aware of."
"Who is the nurse assigned to his room?" Drake was attempting to look into the most logical employees.
"Sister Agatha was the nurse in charge of the floor."
Carly lit up. "Then that's where we will start!"
"No we won't," Drake said.
Carly didn't understand. "And why not?"
Drake cleared his throat. "Because Sister Agatha is a close friend of Robert Ironside. There is no way that she had anything to do with Corbin Schulte's death."
"I thought you said we would check out everyone no matter who they were."
"And we will as long as they are logical suspects. Believe me, I have dealt with Sister Agatha. You'll have to trust me on this one.
They left the hospital for Police Headquarters.