As she sat reading silently in her lounge room by the warm fire, she heard the shrill, piercing whistle of the door bell. She rose out of her Victorian armchair and turned towards the door. She moved swiftly and serenely through the corridors of her newly furnished cottage. As she walked by her bookshelf, she noticed that one of her ceramic ornaments was missing, but she couldn’t pinpoint which one. She brushed the thought aside as she opened the red oak front door to see a pale, balding gentleman holding a package. He was smiling brightly at her, but his cloudy eyes told a different story. He was sweating profusely and shifting from foot to foot, obviously uneasy. Suspiciously, she took the small box and examined it. It was wrapped in brown paper and tied with a string. On the paper was hand-written ‘Mary-Anne Baker, 42 Spiker Street, Lester. If delivered to the wrong address, please return to sender. DO NOT OPEN IF YOU ARE NOT THE INTENDED RECIPIENT.’