Gumshoe Gurney

Gumshoe Gurney
By Scott Wilson
Word Count: 433

Shelly was a fine-looking lady, very well turned out. Despite the open backed hospital gown, she looked desirable and very sexy. The slight puff of cold air from the air-conditioner let Shelly know that she needed to get back to her room before anyone saw her.

“Hot damn,” a voice down the hall said.

Shelly tried to pull the gown closed, but the lack of spare material prevented any form of decency, much to the delight of the owner of the sleazy voice, a sixty-year old cancer patient. She slid into her room and pulled the curtain around her bed for some privacy.

So much for being inconspicuous, Shelly thought to herself.

“How are you feeling today?” a nurse said, pulling back the curtain.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you,” Shelly said. “I pulled back the curtain because I was embarrassed. These gowns don’t leave much to the imagination.”

“True, true,” said the nurse. She popped a thermometer in Shelly’s ear and pulled the curtain back to hide Shelly just as the old man walked past the doorway.

The nurse wrapped a Velcro band around Shelly’s arm and took her blood pressure before picking up a syringe from the trolley next to Shelly’s bed.

“Blood pressures still high. I’ll give you an injection to get that back under control until the doctor makes his rounds.”

Before Shelly could argue, the nurse slid the needle into her arm and pumped her full of drugs. Shelly fell back onto the bed and rolled her eyes a few times before slurring, “I feel sleepy.”

The nurse nodded, waited for Shelly to close her eyes, and then walked out of the room.

A few moments later, the nurse returned with a doctor.

“She should be out of it by now,” the nurse said.

“Good, her charts indicate she is quite healthy. I’m not sure why she was even admitted.”

“Who cares? At least we’ll be able to harvest nearly every part. Should yield us at least two-hundred thousand.”

Shelly sat up.

“She’s awake!” the doctor cried.

“That’s right,” Shelly said. “And you’ve just given us a full confession.”

“Us?” said the nurse.

Four police officers pulled the curtain back as Shelly pulled the hidden two-way microphone from its hiding place in her long, black hair.

“But the injection?” the nurse said.

Shelly pulled the latex strip from her arm, beneath it hung a sack containing the drug, which was collaborative evidence along with the recorded conversation.

THE END