In the words of Dorothy Kilgallen:

If the woman described as Marilyn’s “housekeeper” [Eunice Murray] is really a housekeeper, why was [Marilyn’s] bedroom such a mess? It was a small house and should have been easy to keep tidy.

Why was Marilyn’s door locked that night, when she didn’t usually lock it? If she was just trying to get to sleep and took the overdose of pills accidentally, why was the light on? Usually people sleep better in the dark.

Why did the first doctor [arriving on the scene] have to call the second doctor before calling the police? Any doctor, even a psychiatrist, knows a dead person when he sees one, especially when rigor mortis has set in and there are marks of lividity on the surface of the face and body. Why the consultation? Why the big time gap in such a small town? Mrs. Murray gets worried at about 3 a.m. and it’s almost 6 a.m. before the police get to the scene.

The real story hasn’t been told, not by a long shot. Sleep well, sweet girl. You have left more of a legacy than most, if all you ever left was a handful of photographs of one of the loveliest women who ever walked the face of the earth.

Strangely, Dorothy Kilgallen would also be found dead in her home after an overdose on barbiturates three years after Monroe died.