and then said, “I just wanted to know if you could help me check up on the number of shots that were fired.”
“I didn’t hear any shots at all, Lieutenant, ’way down there in that kitchen.”
Lieutenant Valcour wondered at this. The sound of one shot might well have been heard down in the kitchen: the shot which had killed Endicott and which had been fired from the balcony. The sound would surely have travelled clearly in the still night air and to the kitchen from outside. And yet he believed Nurse Vickers implicitly in her statement that she had heard no shot. There was no earthly reason why she should lie about it. The fact convinced him that whoever had fired had held the pistol inside of the window. He glanced at the sash and realized that the opening afforded plenty of room for a hand holding a gun to reach through.
“No,” he said, “I suppose you couldn’t have heard anything at all. Maybe Roberts can help me. She was in the room, wasn’t she, when you came back?”
“Oh, yes, Lieutenant, and terribly excited about the shooting. She seemed so upset, in fact, that if there hadn’t been so many much more important things for Dr. Worth to attend to, I’d have asked him to give her something to quiet her.”
“One can hardly blame Roberts,” Lieutenant Valcour said. “The fusillade must have been quite a shock, you know. And then everyone’s nerves are on edge tonight anyway. In just what fashion was she upset, Miss Vickers? From your professional experience, I mean, you probably could diagnose her actions. Was it fright—nervous shock?”
“Oh, fright, of course, Lieutenant. I’ve seen lots of nervous and hysterical people during my work but never one as badly off as she was. I’m not