Ruth was sitting on needle pins. She hadn't heard anything from Rose since being brought here. The room was very small compared to what she knew and only contained a table with two chairs on either side, not even a window – clearly so that no one could be eavesdropping. Ruth gazed around.

The policeman in front of her was leaning over the table obviously to see her break down. Her cold stare that had so regularly helped her was now totally deceiving her.

He was seemingly used to this.

"I haven't done anything."

She had no idea how often she had already recited this sentence.

"Then how come that you've been the one to bring him that coffee?"

Ruth bit her lip thinking for a moment.

"I only wanted to make it up to him and my daughter, especially my daughter," she choked out hurriedly.

The minute she had said the words she regretted them. It was simple that she was hungry and thirsty, the room was cold and unfriendly – tiredly she let herself sink further back into the hard chair. Nothing she was used to.

The police officer immediately noticed her agitated state. He straightened himself, fully standing now, somehow not interested, but Ruth knew it was exactly the opposite. She had attracted his attention in a way she shouldn't have.

"Why would you want to have to add up to him?" his question was cutting through the awkward silence like a knife.

Great, now she had gotten herself into real trouble.

"I didn't say that," she looked directly in his eyes.

Liars were supposed to look away – right?

However, her attempt to protest was short lived. The policeman was by now smelling rats. In his opinion he had found the culprit.

"Maybe, because you didn't like him or should I say that you hated him? Isn't it right, Mrs Dewitt Bukater that you actually wanted your daughter to marry the millionaire Caledon Hockley?"

"Yes, I did, but…"

"And isn't it true that when this fell through that you were even more than notified, when she chose to be with some third class boy instead?"

Ruth raised her eyebrows. How did he know? It was supposed to be a secret.

"The Dewitt Bukaters and the Hockleys are very prominent families in America, Mrs Dewitt Bukater. In fact a relative of mine worked on the Titanic and she told me the whole story later on," Ruth looked at him in shame. She had believed that Rose's flings had remained unknown. Obviously she had been wrong "...but don't worry I couldn't care less about this. I'm just interested in resolving this crime," he even smiled a little bit now the stern officer was being gone.

Ruth was beginning to hope again.

Sadly it was not be be and he was soon back to his old self.

"Listen, Mrs Dewitt Bukater, I do believe that it went this way. After Mr Hockley decided to break it up with your daughter or whatever way it was, you were frightened that you might end up on the streets…"

Indeed she had been, but she still would've never…

"Wasn't it like this?"

He didn't give her any time to answer, but continued himself, "Perhaps you thought that you could nonetheless find someone else, some other rich man for your daughter. However, after you heard of her marriage it must've been come as a total shock to you. Subsequently you had talked it over with your daughter, but she had told you that she had no desire to abandon him, so you decided that there was no other way out, but to get rid of Mr Dawson once and for all."

When Ruth didn't say anything, but kept silent he bent forward again his face only inches away from hers now. Generally the criminal would then confess everything.

However, Ruth Dewitt Bukater was different. Normally it was her to glare at people, whom she felt inferior to herself and she wasn't taken aback at all – quite the opposite - her anger was aroused. How dare he would talk to her in such a manner! She wasn't some common robber from the streets and he had no right to treat her like this.

Jack Dawson wasn't her dream of a son-in-law, but she was no murderer either. She would've never done this to Rose.

"I didn't do anything," she simply repeated totally calm and relaxed, causing her challenger to be even livider.

How could she be so composed?

Obviously he wasn't used to the methods of Ruth Dewitt Bukater. His stood up, reaching out his hand and Ruth waited for the blow, but it didn't come. Neither did he hit anything else.

"Fine," he said clearly angry still, but seemingly too much of a policeman to lose control in front of anyone, least not some women he visibly seemed to detest "…fine, I think we'll leave it here. I had thought that you would cooperate some more, Mrs Dewitt Bukater, but I guess I've been misjudged."

He went to open the door and shouted for some assistant.

….

Rose, being accompanied by Roger Lindsay, was visiting Jack in hospital. She couldn't believe what had happened. Her mother, her own mother had tried to kill her husband, her Jack.

Although Roger wasn't exactly the first person she would've asked for help, for once she was glad that he was with her. Jack hadn't woken up ever since being delivered here, which had been the night before.

After Rose and Roger had returned from Mrs Pearson, her mother had already been sleeping on the couch. Then there had been that dreadful sound from upstairs, from Jack's room and Rose had rushed to him – seeing him there coughing, barely able to breath.

'Jack, Jack…,' she had shaken him, but he wouldn't wake up, much less answer her.

Roger had called a doctor and he had said that Jack's state was between live and death.

'I do believe that he has been poisoned.'

The police had arrived soon after and had taken her mother with them. Rose had never been so disappointed –yes disappointed and broken-hearted. She had sunk into Roger's awaiting arms, thankful that he was there.

Jack's panting seemed to have slowed done a little bit, but he was still far from being back to his old self. His old self – Rose forced a smile, trying to remember, when his illness had started. It must've been right after their marriage, no right after Ruth had shown up on the doorstep.

Rose was no sad and depressed that she wasn't able think clearly any more.

"Maybe we should go home," she heard Roger saying.

"He looks so peaceful, doesn't he?" she slowly caressed his cheek and forehead, believing that he was relaxing somehow.

It had been so long since she and Jack had really talked with each other let alone spent some time together, some real time as man and wife not that chitchat people of her class usually had. She thought back to the day, when she had visited that shop in the city with Jack, when she had told him of her former life and how sweet he had been - how he had told her that everything would be alright.

With him it always had been.

"Rose, it's time to…," she felt a hand on her shoulder turning her tearstained face back to him.

"Why did she do this?" she gulped. "How could she…how…I mean she knew how much he meant to me…I mean means to me…," she corrected herself looking at her sleeping husband.

Roger remained silent, something that Rose should've noticed and taken as bad sign, but she was too tense to do so. At best his muteness was perceived as an act of courtesy, as not wanting to interfere.

…..

"Alright, Mrs Dewitt Bukater, just sigh this and we all will be happy," he put the paper in front of her. He had questioned her for another two hours or better say shouted at her for another two hours and then he had scribbled down these few lines, which he now referred to as her avowal.

"No," her voice was loud and confident, it surely could be heard outside as well.

The man's eyes fell, on his whole face could be read the hatred he was having for her now. He didn't seem to be very fond of people from her class on the whole to begin with. Ruth pondered if she should feel sorry for him. After all he was only doing his job and surely wanted to go home to his family just as much as she did.

"I do believe that I'm allowed to contact a lawyer," she added tranquilly.

This one drew him over the edge. His fist hit the table in such manner that Ruth at first thought it would break in two.

"You're not in the position to demand anything, Mrs Dewitt Bukater. You realize that you're suspected with murder, don't you? I suggest that you stop playing around now and start to think clearly about the situation you're in. You're not at one of your social parties here and I'm not one of your servants, you can disparage!" he had spoken so fast and loud that he was completely out of breath afterwards and his face was all red.

"There's no need to shout at me."

"Mrs Dewitt Bukater, honestly you're not the one to make adamants. Your son-in-law, whom you already admitted not to like very well, is lying in hospital and is – if I may say so closer to death than to life, if he can even be called alive anymore in his current state. Now whom do you want to wind up here?" his voice was back to normal now and instead demanding, trying to frighten her.

"I can't place my name under this…," she motioned at the paper "…because it isn't true. It's sad what happened to Mr Dawson, but I've nothing to do with it."

Boom.

There was another smash at the table, which Ruth thought must've hurt him much more.

"You're not going to go anywhere, if you don't start being honest!" he screamed again. "You're here in prison, Mrs Dewitt Bukater, you're aware of that?"

Before Ruth found the time to react the door opened to reveal a second officer, who was whispering something in the other one's ear.

The first one walked over to Ruth.

"Alright, Mrs Dewitt Bukater, I do apologize," Ruth knew he didn't mean it, but she didn't mind. She wanted to know where Rose was staying now and what she was doing. Hopefully it was far away from Roger Lindsay. "You may call a lawyer if you want. My colleague here will accompany you."

Ruth didn't acknowledge either one, but followed the man outside not saying a word.

….

Rose was so tired she fell asleep right away on the couch, Roger carrying her upstairs. She was so beautiful, when sleeping, in fact not only then.

Her hair pins had fallen out and her curls were loosely hanging around. He liked that. It reminded him of their first night together. She had been so sad and vulnerable back then - vulnerable, hopeless and pretty - just as she was now.

They were alone. Lettice and the governess had left the city after being convinced by Ruth that some holiday would be good for them. Ruth herself was in prison for something that at least Roger knew she had nothing to do with.

Her chest was rising up and down and she was talking in her sleep – tossing and turning around.

"Jack…"

Roger thought about going to the hospital right to finish it with him, but it was probably too early for that. Rose needed to grow to love him before.

Maybe he shouldn't force her to visit Mrs Pearson again? Should he honour his promise and bring her the diamond?

Mrs Pearson wouldn't be happy, sure, but…a promise was a promise – wasn't it? Certainly it would force Rose to get more attached to him. After he had returned it to her, he would still have to time to think about Jack. If he didn't die now, there were always other methods as well.

"Jack…"

Roger Lindsay smiled. Life couldn't be better indeed. Although he was wondering somehow about Jack's awful state – in fact what he had given him, wasn't supposed to kill him, he didn't care at all, if it really did. Jack Dawson wouldn't be missed by anyone.

Well maybe Rose, but only until after he had convinced her that she was better off with him. Jack Dawson should've thought about this before bringing Rose close to him.

Rose had calmed down and was sound asleep by now. Roger tiptoed out of the room silently, careful not to wake her up.