Mrs Oliver had just come through the revolving door and was brushing snowflakes from her shoulders when she spotted Alice-Miranda and Hugh charging across the foyer.

‘Hello there. Where are you two going in such a hurry?’ the woman asked.

‘We’ll have to tell you later as we’re in a bit of a rush,’ Hugh replied. ‘How’s Cyril?’

‘I’m afraid he has a dislocated shoulder and a severe concussion. The doctor said that if it wasn’t for his helmet he’d be in a very bad state.’ Dolly sighed, shaking her head. ‘He will have to stay in the hospital for at least a couple of days and he’s not to fly for another week.’

‘Poor Cyril,’ Alice-Miranda said.

‘He’s worried about how we’re going to get home but I told him not to fret about that at all,’ Dolly said. ‘You know how he hates letting anyone else take charge when it comes to flying the family.’

Hugh nodded. ‘We’ll work something out.’

Alice-Miranda looked at her father. ‘I’ve got an idea, Daddy.’

‘You can tell me on the way,’ Hugh said, pulling on his gloves. ‘And everything else too. See you later, Dolly.’

With that, the pair bundled out into the cold, leaving Mrs Oliver wondering what on earth was going on.

‘I hope Uncle Florian won’t be too cross with me, Daddy,’ Alice-Miranda said.

‘Don’t worry, darling, it was right of you to tell me,’ Hugh assured her. ‘He’s a proud man, but I won’t let him lose the hotel. It’s been in his family for over a century.’ He pushed open the door to the guesthouse they had visited the day before. ‘After you.’

The pungent smell of sweaty ski boots made an immediate assault on the pair’s nostrils.

Hugh grimaced. ‘Good grief. I think that’s worse than yesterday.’

The receptionist seemed to be in the exact same position and possibly reading the same magazine. She didn’t even look up when Hugh cleared his throat and Alice-Miranda called out hello. Hugh promptly picked up the little bell on the countertop and gave it a very loud tinkle.

The young woman finally glanced up. ‘Oh, hello. Sorry, still no barons or princes or kings.’

‘I think our friend might have checked in under a different name,’ Hugh said.

‘Ooh, he must be super-important then,’ the woman replied, perking up. ‘I love it when celebrities use pseudonyms. Is he a celebrity? I’ve heard Lawrence Ridley calls himself George Grant.’

Alice-Miranda frowned. ‘Is that true, Daddy? I’ve never heard Uncle Lawrence do that.’

‘I wouldn’t count on the reliability of the information you get in Gloss and Goss,’ Hugh said, eyeing the open tabloid on the counter.

The woman’s eyes almost popped out of her head. ‘Uncle Lawrence?’

‘He’s married to my Aunt Charlotte,’ Alice-Miranda explained.

The woman’s face began to contort and she looked as if she might cry.

‘Are you all right?’ Alice-Miranda asked her.

‘I just can’t believe you’re related to Lawrence Ridley,’ the woman said, fanning herself. ‘He’s so dreamy.’

Alice-Miranda grinned. ‘My friend Jacinta thinks so too. He and Aunt Charlotte were hoping to come to St Moritz but he’s busy shooting a movie and Aunt Charlotte thought the babies were still too little for a ski trip. I can’t wait until they’re old enough to learn,’ she gushed.

‘But we’re not here to talk about Uncle Lawrence, are we, darling?’ her father said, giving Alice-Miranda a nudge. He was worried the woman might pass out before they had time to ask her about the Baron. ‘Do you have anyone registered under the name of Florian?’ he asked.

The receptionist pushed away the magazine and pulled the guest register towards her. She scanned the page. ‘Mmm, so your friend might be using an assumed name.’

Hugh nodded. ‘Yes, I imagine so.’

‘Then I probably shouldn’t tell you,’ the girl replied. ‘It sounds as if he doesn’t want anyone to know that he’s here.’

Hugh smiled at the woman. ‘Yes, you’re probably right.’

‘But, Daddy, we have to find Uncle Florian or else he’s going to do something he’ll regret,’ Alice-Miranda implored her father.

‘I can’t make … I’m sorry, I don’t know your name,’ he said, turning back to the receptionist.

‘It’s Christiane,’ she replied. ‘Christiane Birchler.’

‘Darling, I can’t make Christiane tell us if she doesn’t want to,’ Hugh said, giving his daughter a meaningful look.

Alice-Miranda’s eyes grew wide as she cottoned on. ‘What about …’ She glanced at her father. ‘What if I asked Uncle Lawrence to send Miss Birchler an autographed picture?’

Hugh shook his head forlornly. ‘Oh, I’m sure she wouldn’t tell us, not even for that.’

‘A signed photograph of Lawrence Ridley with my name on it?’ Christiane stared at the pair of them as if they were mad. ‘I’d tell you the name of every guest in this hotel for that.’

Hugh grinned. ‘There’s no need to go overboard.’

‘I’ll send Uncle Lawrence a message as soon as we get back to the hotel,’ Alice-Miranda said.

‘Really?’ Christiane’s eyes were brimming with tears.

‘Please don’t cry, Miss Birchler,’ Alice-Miranda said. ‘Uncle Lawrence wouldn’t like that at all.’

The bell above the front door jingled as someone came in from the street. Alice-Miranda looked around and gasped. ‘Hello Uncle Florian,’ she said quietly.

‘Oh no,’ Christiane sighed dramatically. ‘Now I won’t get my autograph.’

Hugh quickly went to greet his friend. ‘Before you say a word, Alice-Miranda only told me you were here because of something she overheard.’

The child nodded. ‘I promise, Uncle Florian. I wasn’t going to tell, but I had to.’

The Baron shook his head. ‘It is fine. It is just a short-term loan.’

‘It’s not,’ Alice-Miranda insisted, taking him by the hand. ‘They’re going to seize the hotel.’

‘What are you talking about?’ Florian said, his forehead creasing.

‘Is there somewhere we can go to talk in private?’ Hugh asked Christiane, who seemed to be much more interested in what was going on now that she realised her guest was using an assumed name.

‘The breakfast room is empty,’ she replied reluctantly. She considered snapping a couple of photographs to see if she could interest Gloss and Goss in the niece and brother-in-law of Lawrence Ridley.

‘Through there.’ Florian pointed at a doorway off to the left.

‘It’s good to see you, Florian,’ Hugh said.

The Baron smiled. ‘It is good to see you too, my friend.’

The two men embraced and followed Alice-Miranda into the room.