With a sigh, Dahlia sat up, opened her eyes, and reached for her glass of whisky. ‘Sometimes, thinking your way through what you already know is the only thing that can help you figure out what it is that you don’t know.’

Dahlia Lively in Twelve Lively Suspects

By Lettice Davenport, 1945

Isobel hadn’t been able to smile or sweet-talk her way out of their demands – not least because they were perfectly reasonable.

‘Whatever we signed up for when we agreed to hand in our phones, it definitely wasn’t this,’ Felicity said, and the others had nodded.

Isobel had led them through to the library, and the safe hidden behind one of the paintings. ‘We’ll have to wait for Hugh, though,’ she said. ‘He’s got the combination memorised.’

‘What did Isobel want?’ Caro murmured to Rosalind, as they waited by the door.

‘She wants me to talk to Hugh.’

Posy raised her eyebrows. ‘About?’

‘Clementine, and the film.’ Rosalind spotted Hugh arriving, and waited for her heart to do its usual double beat on sight of him. ‘I’ll explain later.’

The three Dahlias kept a close eye on everyone’s faces as they got their phones back. Word had got around quickly, and Kit, Anton and Libby had soon joined the queue.

The VIP delegates seemed relieved to have restored contact with the outside world, quickly checking their messages and social media feeds. Kit, on receiving his phone, hugged it like an old friend, then planted a loud kiss on the screen. ‘I’ll never leave you again!’

Anton, brow furrowed, muttered to himself as he glared at the screen. Libby, meanwhile, slipped her phone into her pocket and hurried out of the room. Either she didn’t have anyone she expected to hear from, or she wanted to check her messages in private. Rosalind wondered which one it was.

Rosalind assured herself there was nothing she needed to worry about on her emails, then put her phone away. Caro muttered something about calling Annie, and stepped outside.

Phones distributed, Hugh and Isobel left the room together. Rosalind watched them go. Would Isobel bring up any of the things she’d talked to her about this morning? She doubted it. Isobel preferred to smile and pretend that everything was okay, while someone else dealt with the harder issues. She always had.

Rosalind glanced over Posy’s shoulder as she flicked through what seemed like a dozen different apps in record time, then she smiled with relief. ‘No sign of the photos showing up anywhere.’

‘That’s good. That means we have a little more time.’

‘So what do we do next?’ Caro walked into the room, slipping her phone into her pocket. Whatever she’d needed to talk to her wife about, it hadn’t taken long.

‘We were going over what happened last night while you were talking to Isobel,’ Posy said to Rosalind. ‘And what we already know.’