"You'll have to excuse me Mr. Alderton, I can't tell you much... The whole day has been such a rush with the preparations for this party... The poor missus couldn't do much except give directions on how she wanted things to be, so it was all on us..."

"When you say 'us', who do you mean exactly?"

"I mean Mr. Hastings, his son, Miss Mary C. and me, mister."

"What about the gardener, what was he doing?"

"He spent hours in the garden with Mrs. Beckwith, who wanted to choose the best flowers to decorate the drawing room."

The detective could tell that she was more than a little distressed. He wished he could put her at ease; all he could do was respond to her tremors with a soft tone, be patient with her almost whispering voice, dismiss her soon. "Miss E., I'll ask you just two more questions, I hope that's alright."

"Ask all you need, detective... If I could somehow make this situation end with my words I would! How arrogant, I know. I can't stand seeing the missus so dejected... Mr. Beckwith too, he's never been in worse moods..."

"You have a generous spirit, Miss. Tell me... do you know anything about a broken bottle?"

"Oh, mister!" she exclaimed, throwing her hands up, then using them to cover her face. "It wasn't me, although it looked like it... I know Mr. Hastings thinks it has been me... Truth is, detective, it was broken when I came in. I was only cleaning it when he saw me. I understand why he scolded me, yet I was so frustrated about it, I had to go outside to cry hidden by the darkness... I was embarrassed too, a guest almost saw me, I had to run away! It hasn't been a good day, mister, it got worse every minute, and it even ended in tragedy..."

"Don't worry, I can see that you are being truthful," he assured her. She must have thought the butler had revealed her mistake; in confessing her non-crime, she had given a useful bit of information. "So, you came in the kitchen, saw the broken bottle..."

"I started cleaning up the mess, then Mr. Hastings ran in the room prepare some more wine. He said, how could you make such a mistake now, why do you want to make things so much more difficult for us, as if we didn't have enough to do... I couldn't talk back, mister! I took it. I finished my task, while he prepared the glasses, and I helped him serve the drinks to the guests. As soon as there was some calm, I snuck out in the garden, paced it a bit. I was not there for long, detective, I couldn't leave my work. I needed a moment, only. I would have gone even if I hadn't been rushed in."

It was more than plausible that the person Miss E. had seen come outside was Miss Camden, the testimonies were aligned. "I see, I see. Let me ask you the last question, like I promised, so you can go. Mr. Beckwith mentioned that a maid has been fired not long ago..."

"Oh mister! Poor Lucy. Will you refer what I say here to anyone?"

"No, every statement made here is confidential. You can speak freely."

She paused for several moments, eyes fixed to her hands now wrapped around each other on her lap. "I have a mountain of respect for Mr. Beckwith. He is a generous man, I don't know how I could support my invalid parents if I didn't have this job, mister. But..." she paused again, her voice choked up. "What happened with Miss Lucy was unjust. Not only a lie was told..."

"A lie? You mean to say that Miss C. lied?"

"Yes detective. Why, I couldn't say. She had nothing to gain, unless she relished in an innocent's demise."

"And how do you know she lied, if I may?"

"Miss Lucy was and is an honest girl. In any case, she wouldn't jeopardize her job for a remote chance to find a fortune. The master pays us well, better than any other house, I say. Such a shame..."