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person. But he was sneaking. And the only reason I can
think of to sneak is because he’s a thief. He wants to go through her bags.’
    ‘She only brought one. And it was like a big handbag, it wasn’t a proper suitcase
or anything.’
    ‘Well, I bet you anything,’ Charlie said, ‘that whatever is in that bag is worth
a fortune and Tom is trying to steal it.’

    It wasn’t completely clear to Amelia how Charlie had talked her into it, but two
minutes later, there she was – creeping around behind the front desk of the hotel,
searching for the spare key to Miss Ardman’s room. She scanned the wall behind the
desk. It was covered in dozens of wooden pigeonholes, each with a brass room number
above the opening. Back in the hotel’s heyday these tiny niches were used to hold
guests’ mail or phone messages. Right now, they just housed the keys.
    Getting the key was easy. Mum had locked the partition that closed off access to
the reception desk, but after six years of gymnastics, that was hardly a barrier
to Amelia. She sprang lightly over it, grabbed the cold length of the key, and jumped
back over without a sound. She ran back to Charlie and threw the key in his lap.
    ‘Gee, it’s a heavy old thing, isn’t it?’ said Charlie, examining it. ‘You were great,
Amelia! You could be a professional cat-burglar.’
    Amelia was horrified. ‘Don’t say that!’ She paused. ‘Charlie, I don’t know if I can
go through with this. If we go sneaking around in Miss Ardman’s room, how are we
any better than Tom?’
    ‘So, what then?’
    Amelia bit her lip. ‘Maybe we should put it back.’
    ‘OK,’ Charlie said simply.
    ‘What?’
    ‘OK, let’s put the key back.’
    ‘Really?’
    ‘Sure. No problem. We put back the key, and we forget about getting evidence, and
you can just trust that Tom is honest and trustworthy and safe to have around your
family and your stuff. You can just trust that he’s a good guy, while you sleep alone
in this big hotel, far from town …’
    Amelia snatched the key out of Charlie’s hands. ‘Fine. Give me that.’ She stalked
up the stairs.
    Charlie scurried after her. ‘We’re only going to look, anyway,’ he whispered. ‘We’re
not going to touch anything, and no-one will ever know, so there’s no harm, and –’
    ‘Shut up, Charlie,’ Amelia hissed.
    They trod quietly past Lady Naomi’s room, though Amelia had no idea whether she was
in there or not. Maybe Lady Naomi didn’t even exist. She could just be a story Tom
had invented to cover up some pirate secret. Amelia considered it a very bad sign
that Charlie’s stupid pirate theory was starting to feel at home in her brain.
    Charlie nudged her. ‘We could get the key to that room next.’
    Amelia didn’t even bother to say ‘shut up’ this time.
    They walked past several more doors until they came to the room Miss Ardman was using.
Amelia knocked quietly. There was no response.
    ‘Housekeeping!’ squealed Charlie in a piercing falsetto voice, pounding on the door
with his fist.
    ‘Be quiet!’ whispered Amelia, her voice shrill with fear. But when no-one answered,
she had to admit, she was glad Charlie had checked properly.
    ‘She must be still outside,’
said Charlie. ‘It’s safe to go in.’
    Amelia gripped the key. She told herself they had to do this, that Mum and Dad were
so convinced Tom was trustworthy, the only way they were going to convince them otherwise
was if they had some hard evidence he was up to … well, whatever he was up to.
    She took a deep breath, and unlocked the door.
    Inside, the room was empty. It was better than a lot of the other rooms in this wing,
but still shabby, dusty and musty.
    Amelia wondered again why anyone would come to stay in this dump.
    ‘Look at that,’ Charlie whispered, stepping past Amelia and into the room.
    On the dressing table, where hairbrushes and vases of flowers would usually be, was
a small glass tank. Like a fish tank, but not for fish. This tank