Page 2 of The Stranger in Room Six

I see everything in this rambling old manor, from conversations whispered in grand, mahogany-panelled rooms, to private meetings spied through diamond-paned windows.

It may have changed over time – today, the wide Victorian staircase stands tall, adorned with a Stannah stairlift – but this house has survived centuries, and its secrets with it.

Most people are here for respite care: old age, illness, injury. I’ll admit my own strength isn’t what it was. But despite appearances, I’m here for another reason – a mission far more complicated – and, like my fellow residents, I’m running out of time.

I’ve got a bad feeling about this job. If I don’t come back with the goods, I’ll be dead meat. And so will little old Mabel Marchmont.