“They were treating Scanlon all right, I had no complaint about that. They had him cleaned up, they gave him his dinner. He had rest and they were questioning him in a civilized way. But by midnight it was obvious to me that they weren’t going to get anywhere. I said that to Schoenstein and he brushed me off. There was something else. I thought I could see something the matter with Scanlon. There was no life in his eyes. On the three occasions I was in to listen—you know how I am—he had to get up to use the bathroom four times. I asked about it, but Schoenstein thought I was up to something and didn’t give me a straight answer. Well, I hemmed and hawed, then I called headquarters. Spoke to one of my friends. We had a sick man here. My friend said that it wouldn’t be easy to get an outside doctor—that’s what I wanted, I wanted a witness—for that kind of work at that hour, but I was getting worried, and I said there should be two, to avoid mistakes. He called Saint Elizabeth’s, and one of the residents and another guy, a specialist—he just happened to be there—came over. Endocrinology, that’s what it was. That was at two-thirty. I’d been getting some rest off and on, but by then I was too interested in Scanlon. I sprung the doctors on Schoenstein. By that time we couldn’t speak civilly to each other and I knew what he would have done if he had known. He did it later anyway, he called one of his friends at headquarters and had Scanlon moved.

“When the doctors came I called Schoenstein into my office and told him who they were, and who had authorized them to come over. Schoenstein is no good at concealing his reactions, but he went out and stopped the questioning so the doctors could get a look at the man. I heard the resident say, ‘Oh, Jesus’—I’m not kidding. Later I got the specialist in my office and he told me as well as he could what they thought was the matter with Scanlon.