Was it the ghost?

On another side of the town, when Sylvester entered his apartment building that evening, he noticed Margot, his usually cheerful ground-floor neighbour. However, this time, she merely gave him a hollow stare before retreating into her apartment with a definitive thud of her door. Puzzled by her behaviour, Sylvester paused, wondering what had upset her.

Before he could ascend the stairs, Sylvester's attention was drawn to the grumpy neighbour from next door, who was leaning nonchalantly against the railing, eyeing him intently. Then, as if on cue, the gardener descended the stairs, passing him with a nod. Sylvester's mind raced—had he missed some crucial neighbour meeting? Were they discussing him?

His paranoia kicked in. He couldn't shake off the wild idea that perhaps they were conspiring against him, maybe even plotting to break into his apartment. After all, the gardener had skills with metal—could he have picked the lock? And Margot, was she somehow involved too?