With a flick of several switches on the old lady’s wheelchair, the curtains in the room swish shut, one after another. The lights go out, and there’s a whirring sound in the ceiling. I look up to see a hole opening in the ornate plaster high above us. Then a shaft of ghostly light flickers on, shining directly down onto the circular table in the centre of the room as the cameraluna hums into life.

“I recorded this three nights ago,” says Lady Kraken, as the moon-bright dust motes begin to dance on the tabletop. “Just after dusk.”

“It can record as well?” I say, but Lady Kraken just waves my surprise away. “Of course it can record. It’s a cameraluna.”

As I watch, the dust and light form into a shimmering model of the town again, in eerie three dimensions. But just as I get my bearings, Lady Kraken begins turning dials, and the image swirls and changes. Little figures of the townsfolk dart around, walking backwards at high speed as if we are going back in time, and the light comes and goes with the passing of the clouds. Then the image stabilizes at last as the lady zeroes in on a particular moment, and a particular place.

“That’s Sebastian Eels’ house!” I say.

Sure enough, the author’s tall, stately townhouse – one of the finest in Eerie-on-Sea – rises up on the table before me, in shimmering, dusty detail. As I watch, amazed, I see a tiny figure of Eels himself emerge from the front door of this model house, straighten his neatly folded scarf and stride off along the tiny street.

“Now watch closely,” says Lady Kraken, dimly lit in the captured moonlight of the past. “Just about … now!”

And she points her crooked finger.

An even smaller figure appears at the end of the miniature street. It darts into a doorway before re-emerging and creeping ahead. Heading always for Eels’ house. I stare in amazement – there’s no mistaking the cat-like way the figure moves, or the mass of crazy curls on her head. Or the woolly bobble hat.

It’s Violet.

“This can’t be dusk three nights ago,” I say. Though, even as I say it, I cannot help believing that it is. Lady Kraken may have some bonkers ideas, but if there’s one thing she’s an expert on, it’s cameralunas. But since Violet didn’t appear at the hotel till long after nightfall, this recording must have been made hours earlier. In other words, hours before I first met her.

“Keep watching,” says Lady Kraken.