I pressed her hands, ready to approach the house, when we heard a grunt and saw the outline of a large man lurking by the side entrance. Ethel and I looked at each other.

‘A guard?’ she whispered.

I should have thought of that. The Odditorium might be in Crillick’s house, but with his exhibits so valuable of course he’d hired extra protection to prevent them from escaping.

‘What’ll we do now?’ I hissed.

‘Leave it to me,’ Ethel said. She was a slight girl – she must have weighed half what the guard did – but something in her eye told me she could handle herself.

‘Be careful, won’t you.’

‘I’ll distract him first; when he moves away from the house, you go in and I’ll take it from there.’

I walked a little further down the road and heard Ethel start to sing as though she were drunk. I turned to see her weaving towards the guard calling out lewdly to him, then I heard his shout of surprise before I doubled back and ran down the stairs that led to the kitchen entrance. I pounded on the back door with my fists. It was Grace who answered and I pushed past her to get inside.

‘Where are you going, miss?’ she asked. But I saw from the fear in her face that she knew. It may even have been her who ushered in the so-called gentlemen who came to experience the Odditorium. Crillick had forced her to hold the Leopard Lady’s rope that first night in the library, but I knew her to be a kind girl. Maybe she thought she was protecting me when she denied hearing the sounds of carpentry that had bothered me while I recovered after my trip to the docks.

Black Bill had said he thought the Odditorium must be in the cellar and the blue paper had proved him right. I looked around the kitchen for a door that would lead below ground and then I saw it. Before it had been hidden behind the tall dresser; that was why I’d not noticed it. I walked over to the door and wrenched it open. I’d expected a cold dank passage but, though the way was narrow, Crillick and his builders had been busy. A series of nooks had been carved into the stone walls, and each had been filled with a gas lamp. Their combined glow showed that the thick carpet underfoot was a rich deep red and trimmed with golden braid. The smell of damp was present but oh so faint, covered by something else that I couldn’t quite work out. A few yards ahead, the passage descended into a flight of stairs. I looked back to Grace, but she’d stayed within the kitchen as if she feared to cross the threshold.

‘Are there more guards?’

Grace shook her head. ‘Please don’t, miss,’ she called.