I nodded. “I said he shouldn’t get more than is coming to him. Of course to you it looks open and shut, and apparently it looks the same way to the cops. You heard shots and ran to the foyer and there it was, a live man and a dead man and a gun. And of course Inspector Cramer has already got the other fixings, for instance the motive all dressed up and its shoes shined, not to mention a willingness to even up with Chapin for certain inconveniences he has been put to. But as Nero Wolfe says, a nurse that pushes the perambulator in the park without putting the baby in it has missed the point. Maybe if I look around I’ll find the baby. For example, Dora Chapin left here at seven-twenty. Chapin arrived at seven-thirty, ten minutes later. What if she waited in the hall outside and came back in with him? Or if she couldn’t do that because the maid let him in, he could have opened the door for her while the maid was gone to tell Dr. Burton. She could have snatched the gun from Burton’s pocket and done the shooting and beat it before you could get there. That might explain the light being out; she might have flipped the switch before she opened the outer door so if anyone happened to be passing in the outside hall they couldn’t see in. You say she hates Chapin. Maybe to him it was entirely unexpected, he had no idea what she was up to—”
She was shaking her head. “I don’t believe that. It’s possible, but I don’t believe it.”
“You say she’s crazy.”
“No. As far as Dora could like any man, she liked Lorrie. She wouldn’t do that.”
“Not to make a reservation for Chapin in the electric chair?”
Mrs. Burton looked at me, and a little shudder ran over her. She said, “That’s no better... than the other. That’s horrible.”
“Of course it’s horrible. Whatever we pull out of this bag, it won’t be a pleasant surprise for anyone concerned, except maybe Chapin. I ought to mention another possibility. Dr. Burton shot himself. He turned the light out so Chapin couldn’t see what he was doing in time to let out a yell that might have given it away. That’s horrible too, but it’s quite possible.”
That didn’t seem to discompose her as much as my first guess. She merely said, calmly, “No, Mr. Goodwin. It might be barely conceivable that Lorrie wanted... had some reason to kill himself without my knowing it, but that he would try to put the guilt on Paul... on anyone... No, that isn’t even possible.”
“Okay. You said it yourself a while ago, Mrs. Burton; strange things can happen. But as far as that’s concerned, anyone at all might have done it — anyone who could get into that foyer and who knew Chapin was there and that Dr. Burton would come.—By the way, what about the maid that’s out this evening? Does she have a key? What’s she like?”
“Yes, she has a key. She is fifty-six years old, has been with us nine years, and calls herself the housekeeper. You would waste time asking about her.”