Gina walked up and down beside the desk a while, thinking and worrying. Now she had not only the opened parcel to worry about, but this mysterious woman as well. What if she was James’s girlfriend? Oh, good grief, it was possible. Gina had thought she was James’s girlfriend, but maybe that was only while he was in Lancashire. His life in London was entirely separate, she realised, and she knew she didn’t – couldn’t – trust him. That was rather the whole point of James Stellion and the business he was in: he was entirely untrustworthy.

Gina sank into James’s father’s chair and put her head in her hands. All she could do was wait until James telephoned and asked to speak to her. Then everything would become quite clear … or at least clearer. There was nothing she could do until then except hide the horrible brooch and those stupid hatpins in the box under her bed beside the contents of some other, rather more promising, parcels she had received lately.

She picked up the phone again and dialled the number for Fowler’s shop, hoping it would be Sally Mason who answered, and not Mr or Mrs Fowler. Gina had had enough awkward conversations for one day.

It was three days later that James telephoned the Hall. It was late morning and Gina had just come in from taking Coco for his walk when she heard the telephone ringing in George Stellion’s study. Luckily Mr Stellion was at the brewery and Gina, still keen to speak to James, knew that and rushed to get the call, barging into the little room without even thinking of knocking.

‘Grindle Hall.’

‘Gina, thank God it’s you. Listen—’

‘James! You got my message, then?’

‘What message? Never mind. Gina—’

‘No, it’s important. You see, that parcel—’

‘Gina, shut up and listen. The police have been to my lodgings and searched the place. They may be on their way to the Hall now. You have to get rid of the stuff.’

‘James, what are you talking about? Lodgings?’

‘What? Oh, shut up and listen, Gina. Take the stuff I sent you to Bella. You have to go now, before the police arrive. If they find it in your room, or with your prints on, you’ll be arrested, and if you squeak then I’ll be arrested, too, and we could both end up in prison.’

‘What, now? Go now?’

‘Yes! I said so, didn’t I? There’s no time to lose. Go straight away and put the stuff in a bag – some of it’s worth quite a bit and the police are looking for it – then take it to Bella.’

‘Why would the police come and look in my room? They know nowt about me.’