Murderer of the Year: A True Story by Bill Bowman

Author:Bill Bowman
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781257138142
Publisher: Lulu.com

Friday, August 12, 1983

Smerecki gathered together a number of items he and Haley had found at Cathy Warner’s house—the name tags and stethoscopes he had found in her drawers, as well as the white slip of paper on which was written information Cathy was given about her mother on July 8—and bundled them in a brown paper bag. Earlier that morning, the detective had spoken to Arnold Nachinsky, head of Middlesex General’s nursing department, about the tags. Nachinsky had suggested that Smerecki bring the articles in question to the hospital, when Nachinsky would be better able to identify them.

“Well, I should tell you that we issued new photo I.D. cards to all our personnel on May second and third of this year,” Nachinsky told the detective. “We changed the format from a photo and the individual’s information in a horizontal position to a vertical position. We collected the old tags when we issued the new ones.”

“Okay, Mr. Nachinsky, let me show you a couple of things here,” Smerecki said, as he pulled from his bag a blue and white name tag, and a photo I.D. card laid out in a vertical format. The card was found in Cathy Warner’s bedroom early in the investigation. “Are these what you are using now?”

“Yes, they are,” the official said. “These are what everyone is using. We haven’t changed the name tags in about six or seven years. They’ve been the same blue and white colors for that long.”

“I see,” Smerecki said, gazing thoughtfully at the tags. “Mr. Nachinsky, there are a few nurses that used to work with Mrs. Warner that I’d like to speak to. Would that be possible now?”

“Certainly, follow me.”

Nachinsky lead the detective to the Four Tower nurse’s station, and introduced him to Mary Bacorn, the assistant head nurse.

Smerecki told the nurse what his business there was, and then asked to speak with the head nurse, Janina Stevens, and Rosemary Cascella.

“I’m sorry, but they’re both off today,” Bacorn told him. “Rosemary would be a good person to talk to; she and Cathy were very close, almost like sisters.”

“Did you know Cathy?”

“Oh yeah,” Bacorn said. “In fact, we had lunch on the day she was supposed to go on vacation.”

“What time was that?”

“That was about 12:30. I remember Cathy got a phone call sometime about 1 o’clock, and then she made a call of her own. The last time I saw her, she was leaving, or maybe getting ready to leave. That must have been around 2 o’clock.”

“Mrs. Bacorn, let me show you something.” Again, Smerecki reached into his brown bag, pulling out the folded slip of white paper. On the side he showed her was written:

Andrews 31-1

Bracchi 37-2

Blodgett 38-1

Perrone 38-2

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