“Miss Craven”—Vance’s manner was easy and businesslike—“will you please tell us exactly what you were doing between half past ten and half past eleven this morning?”
“I was in my room on the third floor,” she answered. “I went there when the doctor arrived a little after ten, and remained until he called me to bring Mrs. Greene’s bouillon. Then I returned to my room and stayed until the doctor again summoned me to sit with Mrs. Greene while he was with you gentlemen.”
“When you were in your room, was the door open?”
“Oh, yes. I always leave it open in the daytime in case Mrs. Greene calls.”
“And her door was open, too, I take it.”
“Yes.”
“Did you hear the shot?”
“No, I didn’t.”
“That will be all, Miss Craven.” Vance accompanied her to the hall. “You’d better return to your room now, for we’re going to pay a visit to your patient.”
Mrs. Greene eyed us vindictively when we entered after having knocked and been imperiously ordered to come in.