Page 113 of The Stranger in Room Six

I am about to slit open the doll’s body when something makes me stop. Am I right to interfere with possible evidence?

So I call Garth on the private number he’d given me ‘in case you think of something important to tell me’.

‘Don’t touch it,’ he says firmly. ‘I’m on my way.’

When he arrives, he insists we wait until Mabel wakes up so we can ‘see her reaction’. Then he puts on a pair of latex gloves – the kind you see in films, so no one contaminates the evidence.

Harry, who has also been summoned, goes pale. ‘I hope to God this isn’t what we think,’ he says.

I watch Mabel’s body rise and fall with each breath. I’ve truly grown to love this woman. I don’t want her to have committed a crime, willingly or not.

Eventually, she stirs.

‘What are you all doing here? Why have you got Polly?’ she demands. ‘You’ll hurt her with those sharp scissors!’

There’s a collective gasp from us all as we peer over Garth’s shoulder while he unpicks the seam. Then, using a pair of tweezers, he carefully extracts a folded piece of paper from the stuffing inside.

Garth unfolds it. He whistles.

‘Look.’

We all lean over it. The heading is CONFIDENTIAL. SUSPECTED NAZI SYMPATHIZERS AND PEOPLE OF INTEREST.

Then there is a list of names. He reads it out.

Lady Clarissa Sinclair

Lord Jonty Dashland

Lord Henry Bedmont

There are more.

And right at the bottom is Mabel Marchmont.

There’s a collective gasp.

‘Why would anyone have put my name there?’ protests Mabel.

Harry sighed. ‘You’ve already told me that you helped Clarissa and Jonty. Someone in the village must have suspected you but didn’t have evidence. That would have been enough to have made you a “person of interest”.’

‘But how could this document have got into my doll? Unless …’

She stops, as if remembering.

‘Clarissa used to confiscate Polly when she was annoyed with me. Maybe she put the list in her then.’

She looks at the faces around her: the one that doubts her (Garth) and the ones that desperately want to believe her (me and Harry).

‘I remember Clarissa and Jonty being accused by the police of hiding something too.’

They still don’t look convinced.

‘It’s true,’ she says, wringing her hands. ‘Although there is something else I should tell you.’

‘What?’ says Harry, a fearful tone in his voice.

‘I’ve kept it quiet for years, but please understand that I’m being honest about all of this.’

I want to believe the woman who has become my friend. I really do, but this doesn’t sound good.

‘If you look under my bed,’ says Mabel, ‘there’s a floorboard which is slightly looser than the others.’

Garth’s face stiffens.

‘It’s why I insisted on staying in the Red Room when the house was made into a home, even though I never cared for it. I wouldn’t let the builders alter it like the other rooms.’

Garth is already on his knees.

‘I’ve got it.’

He prises it open and brings out a small badge.

‘I found it when I was helping Jonty and Clarissa with their paperwork,’ says Mabel. ‘I picked it up by mistake and then was scared of giving it back, so I kept it.’

Garth’s face is grim. ‘I’ve seen this design before. It was a distinction award given to certain members of the Blackshirt movement.’

‘It belonged to one of the guests who visited,’ adds Mabel.

‘I think,’ says Harry, ‘that we should stop right here until I’ve called my lawyer.’

Garth’s mouth tightens. ‘In the meantime, I’m afraid I cannot allow your sister to leave Sunnyside.’

Harry is physically sweating. ‘But even if my sister had been part of the Blackshirt movement, that’s not a crime any more.’

‘No. But we have to keep her safe from the public. She’s already had one anonymous threat and an assassination attempt. There are plenty of people out there who would be happy to take revenge.’

‘But I didn’t mean to,’ wails Mabel. ‘I just did what Clarissa and Jonty told me to do.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not an argument that will save your life.’

Traitor or not, I can’t help putting my arms around Mabel to comfort her, grateful that she hasn’t made the connection between the headlines and me. Then I leave to give her time with her brother.

As I walk away, down the corridor, the manager catches me. ‘Belinda? You have a visitor.’

My heart leaps. Elspeth? Imran? Despite me telling him to go away, I yearn to see him. Be in his arms.

‘His name is Stephen Greaves,’ says the manager. ‘Says he’s Karen Greaves’s son.’ She narrows her eyes. ‘I hope he isn’t going to complain about something.’