IT'S NOT WHAT IT LOOKS LIKE! Three quick, classic cases.

UNCONNECTED COINCIDENCES, PART THREE

QUESTIONING MISS WILKES

A simple staircase can appear never-ending when in need of getting a half-unconscious woman on top of it. Step by step, indulging in frequent breaks, the two women managed to get Mrs Howell to her room. Their goal reached, they took a minute to catch their breath.

"Thank you for helping me, Miss," the maid said, once able to speak again.

"I'm glad to have been of aid. I imagine it's the first time she's in need of this type of assistance, you couldn't have been prepared for it."

She nodded. "It's not every day that she witnesses a murder, fortunately. It feels wrong to say..." As her voice drifted away, she looked at her mistress.

"You can speak freely here. I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're scared of."

Wilkes turned back to Alice. "I'm just glad I didn't see it too, miss. I heard the missus scream, that's it. That was terrible enough. I would have passed out, for sure."

That was the perfect moment to get anything useful the woman might know: her guard was down, she felt at ease. Alderton had said, in those types of situations, asking wasn't even needed, implying was easier, and had a higher rate of success. "I empathize with your struggle. And on top of that, you have four strangers in your house in the middle of the night. Such a stressful time it must be."

"Four?" the maid asked, showing genuine confusion. "It's three, miss, Mr Fletcher-" As soon as she realized her mistake, she stopped herself by slapping her own face.

QUESTIONING MISS HOWELL

There was no need to wait for Miss Camden to come back down, he could still do his job well on his own; at least, that's what he thought while going to call Miss Howell in. Upon seeing the detective, she started yelling at his face about her mother, and how he was taking advantage of the situation for God knows what insidious reason. Right then he remembered why he had been enjoying work so much more – it wasn't his doing, not much had changed in dealing with the public either.

Notwithstanding the warm greeting, Alderton exercised his patience by ushering her in, whilst reassuring her that Mrs Howell was being taken care of. He wondered if that strong reaction was natural apprehension for a parent in a delicate state of mind, or if it was a symptom to some other type of fear, like that of being discovered or even, why not, a bit of both.

"I don't have much to say. As I have repeated a million times over, I was in another room reading a book when it happened. I heard my mother scream, I ran to her standing in front of the window. I was able to see a shadow run away, that's it. I did not see the man's face."

"Yet you know it was a man."

The woman grumbled dramatically. "Yes, well, the shadow was tall and large, and two plus two equals four."

"Tall and large women exist, as rare as they may be in your circle of acquaintance, Miss Howell."

"This one had a beard," remarked she in an annoyed tone. "So I think we can rule the woman theory out, oh champion of the fair sex."

Alderton smiled, hidden behind the thick moustache. How easy it was to get information out of someone who though they had the upper hand. "You said you didn't see the person's face."

"I didn't, not quite at least. I caught a glimpse thanks to the street light. I couldn't tell you what he looked like, however, I am sure I saw a beard, full and bushy like yours. Believe me, or don't, I could not care less."

"I believe you, don't worry."

"I wasn't worrying," she clarified, resting her chin on one hand, the same arm leaning on the back of the sofa.