‘She’s not here.’ Posy stepped closer to the door. ‘She left for a family emergency this afternoon, remember?’

‘Yes, but, I thought she might have come back? And I didn’t see her downstairs, so …’ So he came to try and break into her room, she finished for him in her head. Or maybe that was her own guilt speaking.

‘Why were you looking for her?’ Posy asked.

‘She, well, she has my phone. All of our phones, I guess.’ Ashok looked both ways along the corridor then lowered his voice. ‘She told me to find her this evening and she’d get it back to me.’

Since she’d told Posy more or less the same, she had no reason to doubt him. ‘Well, it doesn’t look like she’s coming back tonight,’ Posy said, and watched Ashok’s shoulders droop. ‘But she promised me the same thing, so I’m sure she wouldn’t mind if we helped ourselves …’

She hadn’t thought Ashok’s eyes could grow any wider. She’d been wrong.

‘But … the door’s locked.’

Posy brushed past him and crouched in front of the keyhole. The door locks of Aldermere House were old, and easily manipulated from either side of the door. She’d checked hers after she found the magnifying glass, and realised that almost anyone could have broken in to leave it there. All it took was a little fiddling with one of the bobby pins in her hair, and the lock tumbled into place. Another skill learned on a film set put to good use.

Posy pushed the door open. ‘Done. You wait by the door while I search.’

Ashok stood nervously in the open doorway as she scanned the room. All of Clementine’s stuff seemed to be still there, which tied in with her phone message saying she’d be back soon. But Posy wasn’t willing to wait.

There was no sign of their phones, or a lockbox for keeping them in, out in clear view, so Posy searched the drawers, wardrobe and bedside table, hoping to turn up, if not her phone, then some evidence of blackmail or something.

Nothing.

Next, she checked all the usual hiding spots – the sort of places she’d hid her diary or other private things in hotel rooms from her parents. The top of the wardrobe. Under the bed. It wasn’t until she slipped her hand under the pillows that she found anything of interest at all.

The script for The Lady Detective was a big hunk of paper, bound with a simple card cover. Posy flicked through it quickly, knowing that Ashok was shifting from foot to foot in the doorway.

There. She stuck a finger in and opened it fully at the spot where the page numbers jumped. Where three pages were missing.