The Binge Crimes: Night Shift - Night Shift I 6. Reprisals

Episode Date: October 7, 2024

Pathologist Eddie Adelstein is faced with bizarre allegations. Is this a part of a VA effort to  discredit Eddie and his fellow whistleblower, Gordon Christensen? The two doctors testify before Congress, and then Eddie gets pulled into another crisis — a matter of life and death. Click ‘Subscribe’ at the top of the Witnessed show page on Apple Podcasts or visit GetTheBinge.com to get access wherever you get your podcasts. Find more great podcasts from Sony Music Entertainment at sonymusic.com/podcasts Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices A Campside Media & Sony Music Entertainment production. To connect with Night Shift's creative team, plus access behind the scenes content, join the community at Campsidemedia.com/join Learn more about your ad choices. Visit podcastchoices.com/adchoices

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The Bench Campsite Media Back in 2017, I flew back to Missouri from Tokyo to see my family. Columbia is a two-hour drive from the International Airport in St. Louis, and I always take the main shuttle service back, the Missouri Express, known locally as MOEX. I was sitting near the front of the bus when the bus driver asked me if I was Dr. Edelstein's son. He recognized my last name from the passenger list. I said, yes, I am. How do you know my dad? He never knew anything about me, but I got put on a super secret committee to decide what to do with him. This was definitely not what I expected to hear on an airport shuttle.

My dad is probably the most outgoing coroner in the world, so I'm used to people knowing him in some way or another. But decide what to do with him? That was a new one. Because he had, because he had what? What he had done is he'd taken his supply of Nembutal at the VA supply. Right. And he used it for a non-VA related incident. And then it all clicked?

Oh, because I remember when they really wanted to get rid of him for any reason possible. or a non-VA-related incident. And then it all clicked? Oh, because I remember when they really wanted to get rid of him for any reasons possible. Yes, and that's what it was all about. I was so amazed by this conversation that I asked if I could record him. He said okay. I knew precisely which incident this guy was talking about. My dad is a licensed veterinarian as well as a doctor. Back in 1996, he had borrowed some drugs to euthanize a friend's dog that had cancer. And when the VA found out about it, they thought it was the perfect excuse to fire him.

They started scheming. This bus driver I was speaking to used to be a pharmacist at the VA, and the higher-ups had apparently recruited him to this super-secret committee. But they were all out to get him, and fortunately we recognized that, and so we recommended that he just be reprimanded. But they wanted us to recommend much, much more. And you stood your ground and said, no, this is a minor thing.

He refused to advise that they should fire my dad, and he told me the VA wasn't happy about it. He ended up working somewhere else. We reached out back to the bus driver when we were in Missouri reporting for this podcast. He declined to talk again on the record. I had known that the VA had been after my dad about this incident for years, but the existence of this board was another sinister layer. How deep exactly did this war against my father go? From Campside Media and Sony Music Entertainment, you're listening to Witnessed Night Shift. This is Episode 6, Reprisals. I'm Jake Edelstein. Before he became a doctor, my dad was a veterinarian.

He loves animals, always has. Quite frankly, he probably loves dogs more than people. When I grew up in the inner city of St. Louis, I was always trying to recruit animals to come home. Like, always, like, you know. And I was just charmed by animals. Even after he went to work at the VA hospital, Dad still often took house calls from neighbors and friends who had animals in need.

So back in the winter of 1996, a friend called to tell him his old dog with cancer had taken a turn for the worse. Dad had looked at the dog before, but now the dog was seizing and bleeding, suffering greatly. The friend asked Dad if he would be kind enough to put the dog to sleep. He agreed. It wasn't something he liked to do, and he would need to get a hold of a drug to euthanize the dog,

but it had to be done. So I had a research laboratory, and then I had gone down there and asked if I could borrow some euthanol, euthanasia. Dad told the VA pharmacist what he was up to and left with a bottle of a euthanasia drug called Sleepaway. He put the dog down soon after and put the medicine bottle in his glove compartment to return to the lab. For Dad, this was just another day in the life of a pro bono vet. But a few weeks later, when someone was doing a routine inventory check,

they noticed that a bottle of Sleepaway was missing and reported it to the administration. The administration freaked out. On one hand, can you really blame the VA? More than four years had passed since the unexplained deaths on 4 East had erupted in the news. And ever since, the VA was a little touchy about the whole lethal drugs thing. Drug supplies, especially lethal ones, were highly monitored, and sleep away is as lethal as they come. It's essentially the same thing that is used to execute death row prisoners by lethal injection. The colleague who gave my dad permission to use the sleep away called him about the missing bottle.

Dad was home and took the call. He felt bad for being forgetful and immediately drove it all the way back to the hospital. They documented that he had used 10 cc's from the bottle and it went back on the shelf. It was slightly more serious than, say, a late library book, but everything was set right and it was back to work as usual. That is, until two years later,

in 1998, when this dog thing came back to bite him in the ass. It was 1998 when my dad testified about the VA at the Havrim trial. That was when Elsie's family sued the VA for negligence. And in that trial, my dad went to bat against the VA at the Havrim trial. That was when Elsie's family sued the VA for negligence. And in that trial, my dad went to bat against the VA. I said, I went to the actual nursing home where he received a letter from the director of the VA

saying that he was qualified to take care of anybody. And while he was there, like 30 people died. So then when I got done with that statement, the prosecutor said, get him off the stand. My dad left the trial feeling triumphant, even more so because his testimony played a small part in helping the Haverhams win the case. A case, I'd like to emphasize, against his own employer, the VA. Then a week later, they announced that they were sending a team to investigate me for stealing drugs. The VA, it seemed, did not appreciate my father speaking up and was now making serious charges against him for stealing lethal drugs. It's the kind of thing

that can end your career as a doctor. They summoned dad to appear before a board of investigation. And even though the VA had been fully aware of what happened for two years, they only gave him a two-day notice to appear before the board. Unbeknownst to my dad, in 1996, the VA had quietly started to put together hundreds of pages investigating the theft of the lethal chemical, and I'd be willing to bet that the super-secret committee the bus driver was assigned to was involved in this investigation.

They finished the report in September of 1997 and did nothing with it. Until a few weeks after the Havrim trial, when the committee called Dad in to confront him about it. And so it turns out that they kind of kept that as an ace in the hole, like this was something they could get on me. And I was laughing.

I said, are you kidding me? Like, are you kidding me? At first, it all seemed ridiculous to Dad. He was getting called in for euthanizing a dog three years ago, but no one else was laughing. And so Dr. Hoyt, who was once the chief of staff, he said to me, you shouldn't be laughing. This is the closest thing you're going to have to have your license taken away. He said, you need to hire an attorney. If dad didn't take this seriously, his career might be over. So they got me as attorney. He lived in Columbia.

I met with him. I said, how much are you charging me? He said, I'm charging you $2,000. I said, $2,000? He said, you know, this is the best money you're ever going to spend. The investigative board was convening on such short notice that my dad had no choice. He dished out the $2,K a little begrudgingly, and the lawyer got to work. He said, here's what you need to do. First, you need to get an affidavit from the guy in the research laboratory who gave you permission to take the drug. Then you need to get an affidavit from the guy whose dog you put to sleep. Dad's longtime colleague worked in the

research lab. Until he retired, he managed the supply room for animal research drugs. We have his affidavit, so we asked a voice actor to read it. I have known Dr. Edward Adelstein for 20 or more years. I know that Dr. Adelstein believes that animals, whether used in research or not, should never be made to suffer. If you talk to my dad for more than three minutes, you'll find out he's a big animal lover. My dad's colleague wasn't about to say no, knowing that this was for a good cause. I located a bottle of Sleepaway that was old and not a large amount. I told Dr. Adelstein to take the whole bottle

so he would have enough to euthanize the dog. With my permission, he took the bottle. A short time later, I was reminded of the fact that I had given Dr. Adelstein the bottle. At that time, I contacted Dr. Adelstein, who immediately returned the bottle. At all times, I knew who had the bottle and where it was. A procedure similar to that used in this incident with Dr. Adelstein was probably used hundreds of times during my 24 years. Dad got a second statement from the owner of the dog as well.

He wrote, Dr. Adelstein performed what I considered to be a compassionate act. With these affidavits in hand, Dad and his lawyer were ready. But the lawyer had some unexpected advice before they went in. He said to me, and then you need to remember that these people coming down here are not your enemy. You can't be angry at them. My dad was pretty pissed off about the whole thing. But he was going to have to stay chill. So they came down on a Monday,

like 10 people in a room. There was a tape recorder, and my lawyer was with me. And I actually was dressed in my doctor's suit, looking reasonably professional since I'm not usually professional. When dad actually tucks his shirt in he means business and he took the lawyer's advice to heart. So I said the team it's so gracious of you to come here because she's in charge as you've

made against me our career ending charges and so I brought with me my attorney and then the attorney said, I want this on the record that Dr. Adelsine has an exemplary record of working at the VA, and by you coming down here and giving him no opportunity to defend himself, no opportunity to know what the charge is, that you violated the rights that every citizen of the American has, which you violated. I want that on the record. So they were like looking uncomfortable at this time. Dad showed the board his affidavits. Then he was ready for his final statement. I said to them, so I get to understand, I get to make a final statement. And the statement I'm making is that it's clear to me that you're here as a reprisal for me telling the truth

that the VA covered up the murder of 40 people. Is that on the record? In my dad's mind, the suspicious deaths in 1992 were murders. But of course, that hadn't been proven in a court of law. And my dad, being the person he is, made his thoughts about this kangaroo court perfectly clear. He outright said, this is an act of reprisal. Reprisal at the highest level. His performance seemed to work.

And then I never heard of those people again. Dad had saved his medical license, but the reprisals were far from over. As a kid growing up in Chicago, there was one horror movie I was too scared to watch. It was called Candyman. It was about this supernatural killer who would attack his victims if they said his name five times into a bathroom mirror. But did you know that the movie Candyman was partly inspired by an actual murder? I was struck by both how spooky it was, but also how outrageous it was. Listen to Candyman, the true story behind the bathroom mirror murder, wherever you get your podcasts. Hi, this is Jesse Tyler Ferguson, host of the podcast, The Dinner's On Me. And whether

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It's very fancy. Shop all of Justin's exceptional wines at justinwine.com and be sure to use promo code JESSE20 to receive 20% off your order today. That's JESSE20 for 20% off. Every morning, my dad starts his day by making a smoothie. This smoothie doesn't contain acai berries or kale or any other trending superfood or leafy green that most people use. He makes his smoothies out of mung bean sprouts. So this morning I had bean sprout juice. I mix it with, sometimes I mix it with cherry juice, but I just mix it with cranberry, cranberry, grape cranberry. It's really great. And it kills the taste of the bean sprout juice,

which most people can't, my wife can't drink it. He tries to get anyone who'll listen to drink this bean sprout juice, including me, but I can barely stomach any vegetable, much less a liquefied sprout. In Japan, they're called moyashi. You can get a whole bag for less than a dollar. But my dad swears this cursed smoothie is the reason he's sharp enough to work as a coroner at 88. He's been spreading the bean sprout gospel for decades. He has an entire website, beansproutchronicles.com, and he has some disciples. I mean, I have a number of people that are drinking it and doing well. Everybody's doing well on it.

They're living a long time. Actually, a few times they've actually had CT scans on their head, and they have no evidence of atrophy. They're all old. It's real. I mean, I believe it's real. Maybe I just want to believe it's real. Dad has been a champion of the mung bean sprouts since he started studying them in his lab in the 1990s.

I had all the equipment. I had microscopes. I could use an electron microscope. I had, at one time, at least two technicians full-time working for me. Mung beans contain isoflavonoids, which are thought to act as a preventive medicine for some forms of dementia. Dad thought that if he kept studying them, he might unlock something important, like the key to living longer, or even the cure to cancer. He loved his mung bean lab.

It was his pride and joy. But this lab was at the VA and funded by the VA, which means that they were at liberty to giveth and taketh as they pleased. The VA had failed to get my dad with a sleepaway incident, but there was still something precious they could take away. They took away my research laboratory. My technician said, they have told her I will never be funded again. That's just like, they don't care. I mean, they just, they just like, how many mean things can they do to you? I can't help but imagine VAA brass drinking scotch around a dimly lit conference table,

smoking Cuban cigars, coming up with sinister things they could do to the employees on their blacklist. I mean, they weren't subtle about it. Take Earl Dick, for example, who was the chief of staff of the hospital and one of the few allies to my dad and Dr. Gordon Christensen. Then they did mean, nasty things to Earl. You know, like they moved him to an office outside where it was cold. And they downrated him. They gave him, you know, bad grades.

Handing out bad grades might seem like child's play, but in the medical field, it's damning. You know, the VA system has, it's amazing how powerful it is to give people a bad rating. You'll never live it down. These bad grades will follow you for the rest of your career, blocking promotions and professional opportunities and even laying the groundwork for firings.

In other words, giving bad grades is an effective way of ruining someone's professional reputation. As Eddie's son, I can say he has a slightly detached attitude about a lot of hard things. Maintaining some emotional distance keeps him from going crazy when the world is very unfair. But what dad was able to take in stride became a crippling burden to Gordon. His serious, responsible, cautious nature made him a great physician and trusted colleague. But these qualities came from a sensitive nature that made the VA attacks particularly devastating.

His wife Alice stood beside him as he endured the many attacks to his career and his reputation. We were amazed that the hospital director, the VA, and the university would try to silence Gordon. We just didn't expect that to happen. It was hard to imagine that that might happen. Each retaliation the VA plotted against him stung.

They publicly denounced his work and ruined his reputation as a scientist. They took away his titles. They made him into the social outcast of the Columbia VA. He took every single one to heart and started to fear that the attacks would escalate. It was a very, very frightening years there. I remember Gordon and Andy swept our house

thinking that there might be bugs. They didn't find any. Andy, or Dr. Andy Simpson, was also a medical professional. He was Gordon's researcher and one of Gordon's close friends. Gordon was certainly attacked professionally, and there were times when he was worried he'd be attacked personally. It may seem like Gordon was running scared after enduring all this pain, but his convictions never wavered. In early 1993, a few months after the mysterious deaths,

he had quietly filed a complaint with the VA Office of Inspector General. He stated that, in his opinion, the VA administration had covered up murders, and they'd failed in their duty to quickly call in law enforcement. And what happened? Absolutely nothing. The Inspector General's office did not open an investigation. They did not come to the VA. They did not speak to anyone. Even worse, it seemed that the Office of Inspector General, which is obligated to protect whistleblowers, had leaked Gordon's name to the administration, and that's when he began to suffer repercussions. It wasn't until two years later

that the Office of Inspector General released a special inquiry report. In this report, the VA denied any cover-up or malfeasance. Let me read a short excerpt. From a practical standpoint, the hospital director's action, to the best of our knowledge, did not limit the OIG or the FBI in obtaining appropriate information from the complainant or other hospital employees. I'm going to say this in plain was a heaping pile of bullshit. The only reason they put together the report in the first place was because Gordon outed them in public on the record. The inspector general reached their conclusion without checking with the FBI

or investigators or hospital employees or the whistleblowers. Essentially, the report's claim of thorough investigation was nothing more than smoke and mirrors. Members of Congress read about the self-serving report. They were so skeptical that they had Eddie, Gordon, and Earl come up to the Hill to testify just a month later in October of 1995.

This was their first time testifying, but it wouldn't be their last. In total, they were called to testify three times about the VA's treatment of whistleblowers. The last time was in March of 1999. That final hearing was led by Congressman Terry Everett. He represented Alabama's 2nd Congressional District. But before becoming a politician, he had served in the Air Force, so he was prepared to look out for his fellow veterans. Terry Everett died earlier this year, so here's an actor reading what he said there on that day

on Capitol Hill. I know when each of you started down the course of becoming whistleblowers, you never thought you'd be before a congressional committee under sworn testimony. You did it because you thought it was the right thing to do and that right people

do right things. It has been my disappointment to find out that that does not necessarily happen. As chairman of this subcommittee, I thought each of you should have the opportunity, if you desire, to be heard in public about your experience as a whistleblower. Finally, Gordon was getting the chance to fight back. Dr. Christensen went up there, and Earl Dick and myself, we all went up there. And the part that was sort of charming, Gordon said,

can I wear my lab coat? Like he would be protected by it. I said, you can't wear your lab coat. You have to go up there without your lab coat. Gordon was a little shy. He wasn't someone who was used to putting himself out there, but he was willing to do it to fight for what was right. He got on the stand and addressed Congress. He said, I speak the truth. Now let me tell you how the VA treats a truth teller. And for the first time, a room of authorities listened seriously to what Gordon had to say. This was incredibly validating after everything the whistleblowers had been through. But perhaps the biggest moment of the hearing was when Congressman Everett took the VA officials to task. He took stock of all the vindictive actions they had committed in the shadows,

and he dragged them into the harsh light of day. Before the witnesses were whistleblowers, they prospered. Their careers flourished. I found it very ironic that every single one of you had outstanding performance records up until the day you became whistleblowers, and completely 180-degree change from that point on. That can be read no other way than as a singular indictment against the culture that exists in the VA. Retaliation and abusive position and authority that we have just heard about and the wreckage that it causes. It cannot and should not be tolerated by the VA any longer.

Mr. Everett was particularly unamused by the effort to punish Dad over the alleged theft of the sleep-away bottle. The 10 cc's he used was worth $3.50. Yes, $3.50. That's not exactly grand theft larceny. He addressed my dad in his final statement. Dr. Adelstein, the Board of Investigation over the dog incident, I mean, this is Keystone Cops. This is so stupid and ridiculous that it infuriates me that it even happened. Whoever initiated that action really ought to

be removed. I mean, it is just plain stupid. As my father and Gordon and Earl continued to agitate, the government finally began to move. At the request of several congressmen, the Government Accountability Office, the GAO, came down to the VA to essentially investigate the investigators. And when they published their report, it was a scathing indictment of the hospital and the VA. The title, get this, Veterans Affairs Special Inquiry Report, was misleading. The VA, specifically the hospital director, Mr. Kurzynski, or Mr. K, was raked over the coals. Here's just a couple things he was accused of. Failure to notify law enforcement, demoting the chief of police for investigating the deaths,

and interfering with the FBI investigation by prohibiting staff from sharing information with them. Of course, by this time, Mr. K had retired from the VA with a full pension. But others continued a campaign of harassment against my dad and Gordon. Members of Congress weren't only upset about the culture of retaliation at the VA. They were also upset about the endless delays in the investigation and poor performance by the FBI. Senator Chuck Grassley of Iowa reached out to the director of the FBI at the time to ask what was going on with the investigation. When he didn't hear anything, he took it to the director of the FBI at the time to ask what was going on with the investigation. When he didn't hear anything, he took it to the media.

Here he is on primetime television speaking to Sam Donaldson. He said he was going to get answers to my questions, and we still don't have answers. Well, why? Because it's embarrassing to them. This is a case from the very, very beginning that has been botched by everybody, not just the FBI, but everybody.

Senator Grassley even pulled my dad aside at the hearing. Senator Grassley said to me, I can't believe they did the dog thing on you, Adelsley. That's what he said. And I said, you know, they're meaner than hell. They're just not very smart. I remember when my father was having conversations with Senator Grassley. But I never thought decades later I would be talking with him myself about a totally different possible crime and a cover-up.

In 2008, I wrote an expose of the FBI making a deal with a Japanese gangster so that he could get a liver transplant at UCLA, and it got published in the U.S. The story caused quite an uproar because three other Yakuza had also gotten liver transplants, jumping ahead of a line of American civilians waiting for their livers. Many of these Americans died. The Yakuza lived. It was Grassley who took the FBI to task for it, and he demanded to know why these violent criminals were getting priority over American patients and why the FBI made a deal with the worst Yakuza boss of them all. The night shift deaths seemed to crop up in odd places for both me and my father. In some ways, it's an odd twist of fate that I'm bringing it back into my father's life right now.

People like my dad, they aren't immediate victims in this story. But they are still haunted by the ghosts left behind. The following interview is being videotaped at the Dade County Public Safety Department, Miami-Dade County, Florida. And sir, would you identify yourself? My name is Ronald F. Carpenter. In 1976, a man in Florida tells a cop he has a confession to make. Arriving in Miami, I proceeded to do certain things that I considered to be necessary

in the crime that I planned to commit. I was looking for a hitchhiker, potential victim. But instead of becoming his victim, I became his confidant. One of the people closest to him, as he recounted, and was tried for his horrific crimes. From Orbit Media and Sony Music Entertainment, listen to My Friend the Serial Killer. Subscribe on Apple Podcasts to binge all episodes now or listen weekly wherever you get your podcasts. Dad and Dr. Christensen weren't close friends before the events of the VA, but they had a mutual respect for each other, one that only deepened over time.

As corny as it sounds, they were sort of war buddies. They went into battle against a much greater enemy and for a good cause, the cause of saving lives and seeking the truth. My dad was sort of like a high school guy who talked his locker partner into joining the Marines with him. And he always felt a little guilty about how things turned out. I sometimes describe myself as a guy that ruined Gordon Christensen's life, because I was the one that asked him, like, would you look into this? Like, you know? When Gordon Christensen first looked at the data my dad asked him to gather, he must have thought he was playing a part in helping the VA catch a suspected killer.

Maybe he even thought he'd get a little recognition, or at least a thank you. Instead, the VA discredited his work and smeared his credibility. His wife, Alice, says it nearly ruined him. And Gordon, as I understand it, asked to be retired from the VA and moved to the University of Missouri. I think the director at that time declined. So Gordon was left at the VA without his professional positions.

Gordon's career was in shambles. He lived in fear of the VA's next punishment against him, and he basically became the hospital leper. Everyone steered clear of him. Here's how he explained it to his daughter when she was interviewing him about this time. There was literally one day, well, many days, when I had no other friends in the hospital. I had three friends in the hospital, and that was it. It was a very sad time.

I was isolated from everybody except for three people. The three people who stuck by him were my dad, Earl Dick, and Andy Simpson, Gordon's researcher. These three men kept him somewhat sane, but Gordon could no longer do meaningful work in such a hostile work environment. That's why Gordon actually left the VA. He said, because they're going to get me.

One way or the other, they'll either find that I'm clinically, you know, made a mistake, and I just don't want to work in that environment where people are determined to prove me a bad doctor. The VA finally got what they wanted. They kept pushing Gordon into a corner, and finally he just quit. But the whole incident didn't just fade away. It fundamentally changed him.

Oh, he grew very angry. Very angry and very committed to fighting. And before that time he was idealistic and happy and new things would work out. Didn't need to be angry, just new things would be good, and grew angry, disappointed, and felt very guilty. Alice says that in the end, Gordon was more angry at the VA's reaction at the cover-up than he was about anything else. I think that's hardest about growing up, I guess, is that you want to be as good at your job as you can be. And we bumped into a situation where being good at one's job was the wrong goal. And that was devastating. Gordon worked at the University of Missouri for the rest of his career. He never forgot about his dark days at the VA,

but it seems like he at least found a creative outlet to process all of it. He started writing a science fiction novel. I helped him edit the book. The title, Charon, Pluto's Great Moon. The story centers around a galaxy-wide conspiracy to destroy Earth, and who better to write a novel about a conspiracy than a man that this fantastical sci-fi book came as a surprise to even his close friends. But it turns out that while Gordon was writing it,

he knew he might not have much longer to live. So, I mean, there were many sides to Gordon which I didn't realize, and I don't think I really got to know. And then he developed cancer. Gordon was diagnosed with cancer in 2018. My dad thought he had basically destroyed Gordon Christensen's life, but he also thought he could be the one to save it.

Remember the mung bean lab, the one that got taken away by the VA? Well, Dad may have had to stop his research, but he still believed in the cancer-curing properties of this underappreciated legume. I tried to save Gordon. I don't know, they thought he had prostate cancer. I put him on the bean sprout juice, okay?

No, seriously. And all the metastatic cancer went away in his abdomen. And I really thought I had cured him. I was like, hallelujah. Gordon let Eddie feed him bean sprout juice. It was a bit of a bitter pill, but he tried. Gordon wrote me an email in October of 2018. He wrote, I am taking Eddie's bean sprouts.

He has been very nice to keep me in mango juice, which makes them palatable. And then I came back. On February 29th, 2020, in his own home, surrounded by his family, Dr. Gordon Christensen passed away. He was 71 years old. Charon, Pluto's Great Moon was published after his death. In the acknowledgments, Gordon thanked the three men who stood beside him through the whole VA debacle, Earl Dick, Andy Simpson, and my dad. Gordon wrote,

I am forever grateful to them. The book wasn't the only thing Gordon did on his deathbed. All the tape you've heard of Gordon was recorded by his daughter while he had cancer. He didn't know we would later do a podcast. I don't know if he even knew what a podcast was, but he wanted to leave his story behind. Because even after all these years, he never gave up hope.

Hope that the mysterious deaths on 4 East would someday be solved. That the alleged killer would be locked up. And that the VA would finally be held accountable. He held hope that all of this would happen, even if it wasn't in his lifetime. But there was a time when it seemed like truth and righteousness would triumph. There was a time when the local press hailed Gordon as a hero, a time when even the skeptics had to say,

Gordon, you and Eddie and Earl were right all along. In 2001, the case took a turn no one saw coming. It all centered on a drug that no one had tested for. And if they could identify a murder weapon, they could finally put the alleged killer behind bars. Next time on Witnessed Night Shift. I recall being like, I can't believe I'm sitting here interviewing this guy. But, you know, he wanted to control the narrative, and this was the way to do it. There are things called aggravating circumstances. OK? You've got to have the ability to charge murder one.

Murder one is killing somebody after a cruel deliberation, no matter how brief. It would look good to have some closure, you know? It'd be good to have some closure on that. I have. We'll see you next time. Subscribe at the top of the Witness show page on Apple Podcasts or visit GetTheBinge.com to get access wherever you get your podcasts. Witnessed Night Shift is a production of Campside Media and Sony Music Entertainment. The show was hosted by Jake Adelstein. It was written and reported by Jake Adelstein and me, Shoko Planbeck. Amy Planbeck is the producer.

Elizabeth Van Brocklin is the managing producer. Michael Canyon-Meyer is our story editor. Fact-checking by Abukar Adan. Niccolo Mainoni and John D. Babcock III provided voice talent for this episode. Josh Dean is our executive producer. Sound design, mix, and original scoring by Erica Wong. Additional music from Mike Harmon and APM. A special thanks to Eddie Edelstein and Benny Edelstein. Thanks also to our operations team, Doug Slaywin, Ashley Warren, Sabina Mara, Destiny Dingle, and David Eichler. Campside Media's executive

producers are Josh Dean, Vanessa Gregoriadis, Adam Hoff, and Matt Scher. If you enjoyed Witnessed, Night Shift, please rate and review the show wherever you get your podcasts.