He hadn't gotten much from Beckwith about the man, but Alderton wanted some sort of confirmation that he was involved at least in parts of the murder scheme. If he really was the one who put the intruder bottle, who was to say he didn't participate in other ways? It had been established that Miss Camden was not the only one to go through the passage, that he must have used it to get to the kitchen window; but there were traces of dirt inside of the room, at the doorstep, which meant that he had also come in from the outside for some reason. From the small drawing room the study was very accessible, and the scene could have not been prepared before the party, the master would have noticed the differences, it needed to be done while he was entertaining the guests. The gardener, as one of the help, must have known of this hidden door. It was not preposterous to consider he might have tweaked with the furniture. At this point the detective was ready to jump to conclusions: what if Mary C., the maid, had lied like Miss Daisy E. had asserted in her testimony, and the one caught in the study breaking the pot was none other than the gardener studying the room to be quick in his task at the direst of moments? It was, perhaps, farfetched, yet the question was not as delicate as the one of the real murderer, the mastermind - who could not have been a stranger come into the home weeks prior, the matter was too entrenched in personal feelings; therefore, it did not require as much restraint.

Mary C. was not sly, she was rather heavy footed in her pushing away unwanted questions. He did not care enough the first time; now he had a reason to try and get information out of her. A direct approach would be necessary.

"I don't understand why I'm here again, I thought I made it clear that I have nothing to say to you about this situation. I didn't even know the man. I mind my own business."

"Miss C., how much did he give you to keep your mouth shut? How much does your silence cost?"

The woman went stiff, and her face got pale. "What... I have no idea what you're talking about."

"I hope a lot, since you pretty much were a killer's accomplice. Was it worth it, miss? Was it worth James's life?"

"I cannot accept these horrid accusations, mister!"

"Oh, but I'm not just accusing you, I have proof that you conspired with the gardener. You even had an innocent girl fired as a cover up. Did you help her get another job? Did you pay her the lost money she needs to care for her sick parents, miss?"

"I... You can't..."

"Oh, but I can! Get ready for jail. Shall I ask that they put you in the same cell as your friend Graham J.?"

"Sir, stop it!" she yelled starting up with her closed fists to the side. Hot tears ran down her cheeks; she bit her bottom lip so hard he was surprised it didn't bleed.

The difficult part was done, it had been even quicker than he had expected it to be. When he spoke again his tone was softer: "Why should I?"

"I did not know he was a killer when it happened! I thought he wanted to steal some valuables, because he had debts, or something of the sort. He did not tell me, that is what I thought it might be. The only agreement was that I wouldn't tell anyone that I saw him in the study, that's it. Nothing about Mr. Camden, I swear! I lie for my own interest, that's true, but I wouldn't help a murderer, that's too much. Is he really one?"

"He may have not done the deed himself, he definitely contributed to the plot, though."

"Oh..." she sighed, dropping on the chair, and starting to sob. "I don't want to go to prison, sir... I swear I will never do something like this again..."

Alderton pretended to ponder on the offer. "Actions have consequences, so I will have to tell Mr. Beckwith..."

"I will tell him myself! Just, please, don't let me go to prison... I could not handle it... I am too delicate, I would suffer too much... Oh!"

"Alright, alright, we have a deal," he responded, pitying that such a tiger of a woman had sunk so low. Perhaps he had been too hard on her. "I will check in on the man of the house at the end of the investigation. You have until then. Should be enough time."

"Yes sir, thank you so much!"

Too hard or not, he had gotten what he was looking for: confirmation that the gardener had been caught in the study not long ago; that was more than enough. His instincts were not as rusty as he thought they would be.