Dr. Cabernet
You are a well-respected veterinarian. You have traveled long on the Excelsior Train when you are forced to stay at the Eaton during the snow storm. You are traveling to a livestock conference in Kansas City. Though you are a widower, you still enjoy a good drink and the company of a lively flapper to pass the time.
You live in Sante Fe and you specialize in dissecting animals. In fact, you crave it. When your wife unexpectedly died and there were rumors that she overdosed on something, you were more than willing to see if that was true first-hand with your trusty scalpel.
You also are getting desperate for some fame/money/attention in the agricultural world.
You spent most of the week traveling on the Excelsior Train bound for Kansas City. You shared a car with Mr. & Mrs. Scotch who were also going to the same national conference. Mrs. Scotch spent much of the time ill and asleep. Mr. Scotch explained that he had created the perfect new breed of rabbit by crossing the great meat stock of the New Zealand with the good fur of the Himalayan. He was going to call it a Californian after his home state. This would not do – you thought of ways of how you could take credit for this as it would create a huge fortune and bring your name back to prosperity.
Due to a terrible storm your train was held up at Wichita and 5 of you in that car (another couple, Mr. & Mrs. Bordeaux) were all sent to the Eaton for the night (2 rabbit stayed on the train). While waiting for the hotel’s manager, Mr. Merlot, you took note of the guest-book of the only guest who had not checked in, Mr. J. Meister in room #XXX.
After helping get Mrs. Scotch safely to her room (still very ill), you ask Mr. Scotch for help getting your bags to your room. You lead him to Meister’s room, insist he has a drink from your “personal” stash (containing horse tranquilizer), and smile as he quickly collapses from his heart stopping cold. You then slit his throat cleanly (using scalpel) on bed (didn't want blood splatter on him). You take your steak knife that you kept from train and put it next to body. You then take the wallet, move your bags to your real room and then put a note in wife's room explaining that Mr. Scotch “has gone helping folks for day make it through the storm and he would hopefully be back in evening”.
This afternoon after you heard a far away scream, you imagined someone found the body. Unfortunately the storm has you here another night.
Advice
You are a bad one, Mr. Cabernet. J You have no qualms talking about what you do (NOT what you did last night) and mixing it up with almost anyone, but you are curious as to who folks think did it and why. You should probably ask about Mrs. Scotch’s health and about her husband to keep some innocence.
Remember, you should only “really” know what people tell you and info from the note – it’s possible that Mr. Scotch hasn’t been found, yet.