‘I don’t know why you police types get so worked up about interrogating suspects,’ Dahlia said, lighting another cigarette. ‘It’s really just giving people a chance to incriminate themselves.’

Dahlia Lively in Twelve Lively Suspects

By Lettice Davenport, 1945

Caro watched as the VIP fans took their seats, and the delegates filed in to fill the audience. She smoothed down her favourite Dahlia outfit – a cream silk blouse she’d taken from wardrobe on the last day of filming, and a pair of navy linen trousers. Rubbing her lips together she hoped that her scarlet lipstick had survived breakfast.

Across the way, the VIP fans were looking decidedly uncertain about this new addition to their schedule. But as she’d planned, Kit’s presence – and his relaxed, joking manner – was going a long way to setting them at their ease.

As the clamour in the audience died down after their introductions, Caro took the microphone and beamed at the audience.

Oh, this was why she kept coming back to Marcus, year after year. No one else gave her the chance to stand up and be adored like this. To know that she was connecting with people who valued her for who she was – well, who she could be.

Annie always tried to tell her that she was more than just Dahlia, more than an actress. That she mattered in her own right. But then, Annie had never been to another convention after the one where they’d met, when she’d been accompanying her aunt for the day. Annie didn’t know what this felt like.

‘Friends!’ Caro started, to cheers from the audience. Another of Dahlia’s turns of phrase, that. Everyone was a friend – until she was demanding their arrest. ‘Thank you for joining us today! As you can see, this is an historic moment. Three Dahlia Livelys all on stage at the same time!’

Another cheer, louder this time, that set the blood rushing through Caro’s veins, pounding in her ears as she waited for enough space in the noise to speak again.

‘Since this is such a novelty, we thought we’d use it to do something entirely new.’ Better to make it sound like this was a joint decision, rather than something she’d sprung on the other two. ‘We all know what Dahlia Lively does best, right?’

She threw the question out into the audience, ignoring the few, mostly indecipherable answers that came back and ploughing on with her own. ‘Interrogations! Dahlia’s skill at fast talking a suspect into incriminating him or herself is second to none, and today, we’re going to recreate this for you here!’