It was answered by a butler with permanently raised eyebrows, who listened politely to the woman’s bellowed request, bowed stiffly, and disappeared inside to deliver her message. He reappeared a minute later. “Please follow me,” he said. “Madame Morel will see you in the drawing room.”

A minute later, the elderly woman and the enormous man were seated opposite an angular woman with beady eyes and cheeks bright with rouge, and they were all eyeing each other suspiciously. The guests sipped tea. The hostess was threading jewels with her right hand on to something that she held in her left; something that occasionally twitched and pulsed in her fingers.

“I must confess,” said the hostess, selecting a bead of emerald, “that I am surprised that you would want to sell anything to me, Ester.”

“Well, you are unbearable, Elodie,” barked the fur-covered woman, “but you’re also even richer than I am. There aren’t many people who can afford what I’m selling.”

“Charmed.”

“Excuse me,” said the mountain man, “but might I use your toilet?”

The beady-eyed woman bowed her head in a small nod. “Third door on the left.”

Three very awkward minutes followed, until the man returned. The hostess took him in with a swift flickering glance. She did not fail to notice the lump in his jacket pocket. It looked about two inches across. She did not think it had been there before. It was difficult to be sure, though, and there are some things that you do not want to admit to owning unless you are sure that they are being stolen. Best to quietly double-check.

“Excuse me one moment, would you?” she said. She swept from the room. Three very tense minutes followed, until she returned.

She sailed back in, and smiled sweetly at them. “Now,” she said. “What was it you were looking to sell?”

The real menace

At the back of the house, in a clump of rosemary bushes, crouched something that was very much not a rosemary bush. It was a nun, and a detective, and a friend and an adventure, all rolled into one. She was watching the windows of the house intently.

At 10.32, one of them opened. A small arm was thrust out of it. The hand on the end of the arm gave a thumbs up.

The nun smiled. She got up, dusted soil off her habit, and sauntered over to the building.

She took off her shoe, raised it above her head, and smashed it against a window. A hundred alarms wailed. Dogs howled. Floodlights shot on.

“Helloooo!” she called out. “It’s me!”

The child

Throughout all of this, things had been uncomfortable for Max.