“Then don’t you think we had better wait until after the funeral?” Prissy intervened.
“Hell, no!” Harrison snorted. “Bear Sterling is the best friend I ever had. He dragged me out of the gutter and made a doctor of me. Either his son is cleared, or I’ll not be caught at his funeral with you skunks!”
His anger was so intense that nobody dared object. Princeton wiped his brow clean with a lavender silk handkerchief and Harrison continued:
“He cannot defend his son who by his own murderers is accused of murdering patients. Well, I know his son is innocent!”
“How do you know it?” Hoffbein hypodermicked.
“By a method that none of you three could ever comprehend. Because I trust the man. Now let’s get down to tacks. If Ethridge is innocent he ought to be cleared before sunset. If he is guilty he ought to be hanged before then. Clearing him or convicting him with the police is out of the question. But cleared he has got to be, and therefore I propose that we instruct MacArthur to hire the best private detectives in the United States to become patients on B Ward and orderlies throughout the building, with the right to question any or all of us....”
“But why ... why ... Harrison...?”
“Shut up, Princeton.... I beg your pardon, Peters.... How do MacArthur and I know that Miss Roenna Kerr and her niece are not working as accomplices for you or Hoffbein in murdering patients in Ethridge Sterling’s clinic?”
“Oh, oh, oh! Harrison you don’t mean that!”
“I do, Peters.”