‘Yes!’ Angeline nodded like it was the most logical idea ever thought up. ‘That’s it exactly.’
Mr Griswold was now living in a friend’s shed at the end of a dishevelled garden. He was wrapped in a frayed blanket and sat on a fold-out bed, his hair unkempt, wearing rumpled pyjamas and moth-eaten slippers. A small bar heater did its best to warm up the damp building.
‘It’s too late for that.’ Griswold pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. ‘I’ve decided to sell.’
‘Sell? But the castle has been in your family for generations,’ Angeline objected.
‘If you’ll listen to my sister,’ Edgar said, ‘I think you’ll find what she’s suggesting makes a lot of sense.’
Mr Griswold scratched his beard and flicked his knotted fringe out of his eyes. ‘I want to thank you for all you have done. It took a lot of courage to go into that castle with all that was happening – I should know! – but I don’t see how anything will change by meeting him.’
Dylan stifled a scream as he stepped away from a spider that had abseiled from the ceiling right next to his face. ‘Mr Griswold, I was as scared as you are of your ghost but, now we’ve spoken to him, he’s like a regular kid, only without the “being human” bit.’
Mr Griswold was softening. ‘And you think your plan will let me have my castle back?’
‘I don’t think so,’ Angeline said. ‘I know so.’
Mr Griswold sighed. ‘I guess I don’t have much to lose. When would you like us to meet?’
‘Right now.’
‘Now! But I’ll need time to get ready, time to . . . Aaah!’
Bartholomew slowly appeared before them.
Mr Griswold scrambled into a corner of the bed. ‘Where did you come from?’
‘Actually, he’s been here the whole time,’ Dylan said. ‘We thought it would freak you out if we told you about him earlier.’
‘Mr Reginald Griswold,’ Angeline began, ‘I’d like you to meet your great-great-great-great-great-great-great-great-uncle, Bartholomew Griswold. I think that was enough greats.’
‘Griswold?’ Reginald cowered. ‘We’re related?’
‘Yes, but your family ’ave spent all these years buryin’ the fact,’ Bartholomew said.
Reginald lowered his blanket. ‘We have?’
‘Wilfred an’ I were brothers – same father, different mothers. Your family kept it a secret. I lived at the castle with the hired ’elp and never ’ad any of the fine things Wilfred ’ad.’
‘I didn’t know.’ Reginald shook his head. ‘I wish there was some way I could make it up to you.’
‘Ah, but there is!’ Angeline sat on the bed beside him. ‘Because Bartholomew missed out on going to school, we thought you could be his teacher.’
‘I never learnt to read or write,’ Bartholomew said. ‘At night, when everyone was asleep, I’d sneak into the library, stare at all them books and wonder what was inside ’em. Would you teach me?’
‘To read?’
Bartholomew nodded.
‘It’s all right,’ Angeline said. ‘You’ll be very safe.’
Reginald straightened. ‘It would be my honour.’
‘Excellent.’ Angeline wasn’t done yet. ‘We’d also like to talk about your ghost tours.’
Mr Griswold looked down. ‘I’m sorry. I never meant to deceive anyone – I was only trying to give people what they wanted. I promise, from now on, I’ll never give another tour again.’
‘Oh no!’ Angeline cried. ‘That’s not what we want. We know a way you can keep the show and make everyone happy.’
‘You do?’
‘Absolutely! And this is how we’re going to do it.’
They all huddled around Reginald’s small bed, talking into the night, making sure every detail was right for Angeline’s plan.
‘| could stay here and you could tell me about it later,’ Angeline said as she sat on the floor of Edgar’s bedroom while he put on his jacket and tie.
‘What’s your favourite advice again?’ Edgar asked, frowning. ‘Oh yes, I remember, ‘You only get better at something by trying it again and again.’
Angeline’s shoulders fell. ‘Just because I give that advice doesn’t mean I have to follow it.’
‘I’ll remember that next time you impart your wisdom.’ Grandpa Huffman slowly materialised beside her.
Angeline threw her hands in the air. ‘I’m not good at this people thing, and you both know it.’
‘But this is all your idea,’ Grandpa said. ‘You can’t miss your own creation.’
‘I can. All I have to do is take off this stupid dress, curl up in bed with a book and you can tell me all about it later.’
‘You and your Grandma Rose are more alike than you know.’
‘And she’s a smart woman,’ Angeline argued. ‘You said so yourself.’
‘Yes, but she could also be very stubborn,’ Grandpa muttered, then quickly perked up, ‘but don’t tell her I said that.’
‘Maybe I’m not right about the “trying again” advice,’ Angeline suggested. ‘Maybe, for everyone’s benefit, there’s a point where you should admit you’re good at some things and no good at others.’
Grandpa Huffman waved a pale finger in front of her face. ‘I don’t often say this to you because it’s very rarely true, but that’s rubbish! You are right about the “trying again” thing. You’re one of the most interesting people I know, and I know a lot of people – living and dead – and staying here will be depriving the world of how fascinating you truly are.’
‘I agree.’ Edgar nodded.
‘You’re both not going to let me stay here, are you?’
Edgar and Grandpa shook their heads. ‘No.’
The doorbell echoed from down the hallway, followed by muffled voices. Angeline and Edgar snuck their heads out the door and saw the same two uniformed police officers who had visited them earlier.
‘What are they doing here?’ Angeline whispered. ‘We’ve been so careful to be discreet.’
She saw her dad’s face crumple in worry.
‘Poor Dad,’ Edgar said.
‘This is not his fault.’ Angeline clenched her fists. ‘We have to go help him.’ She went to move, but Grandpa Huffman gently laid a hand on her shoulder.
‘I don’t think he’s going to need it.’
They all watched as Arthur Usher continued to listen to the officers, his face slowly filling with a relieved smile. He nodded and mouthed a few thank yous before shaking the officers’ hands.
‘What’s happening?’ Angeline asked.
‘Maybe the complaint has been withdrawn,’ Grandpa suggested.
‘Withdrawn? But why?’
Grandpa floated over to the bed and sat with a smug smile on his face. ‘Beats me.’
Angeline gave him a quizzical stare. ‘What have you done?’
‘Maybe I snuck into Mrs Snitch’s house and got hold of her camera, and maybe I accidentally erased all the vision she had of you two . . .’
‘She had vision of us?’ Angeline asked.
‘She been secretly recording you for weeks, trying to prove your parents weren’t looking after you properly. So maybe I replaced that vision with some Usher family videos of you practising soccer in the front yard, helping your dad with the garden and bringing in groceries from the car instead.’
‘She’d filmed us? And now it’s all gone?’
‘Yes,’ Grandpa Huffman said. ‘Genius, huh?’
‘Yes, except Mrs Snitch is going to think we had something to do with it, which will prove to her even more that something strange is going on,’ Angeline said.
‘But I had to do something. She was really getting on my nerves,’ Grandpa huffed.
‘Yo
u don’t have any nerves,’ Edgar reminded him.
‘Well, if I did, she would. I needed her to know how great you kids are, and that she had you and this family all wrong.’
There was a knock at their door. Angeline and Edgar jumped to their feet when they saw Constables Watson and Doyle.
‘Sorry to interrupt,’ Arthur Usher said. ‘The constables wanted to have a word.’
Angeline straightened. ‘What can we do for you?’
‘We wanted to say thank you for all the good work you did at Castle Koszmar,’ Constable Watson said. ‘Mr Griswold told us how you saved his business and sorted out his . . . trouble.’
‘It was our pleasure,’ Edgar said. ‘We’re always happy to help where we’re needed.’
‘Sorry about the whole Mrs Snitch business.’
‘That’s okay,’ Angeline said. ‘I know what we do is sometimes hard to understand.’
‘Yes, even for us who know about it.’ Constable Doyle frowned. ‘Just try to keep everything low key in the future.’
‘We will.’ Angeline smiled. ‘You can count on us, officers.’
They turned to leave, before Constable Watson added, ‘Another job well done.’
‘I’ll walk you out.’ Arthur motioned for the officers to go first before turning to his kids and giving them the thumbs up.
When they’d gone, Angeline kissed her grandpa on the cheek. ‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome, but don’t tell your father. You know how he likes to do everything above board. Let’s go have ourselves a good scare.’
*
Arthur had lined his family up beside their old car and looked through the viewfinder of his camera. ‘Everyone ready?’
He pressed the timer and hurried over to position himself on the end. ‘Say poltergeist.’
‘Poltergeist!’ everyone sang. The camera flashed.
‘Excellent.’ Arthur grabbed the tripod. ‘Another one for the album. Everyone ready to party?’
‘Yeah!’
As the Ushers piled into their car, Angeline heard the jangle of keys behind her. She looked around to see Mrs Snitch struggling with two bags of groceries to pick up her keys that had fallen to the ground.
‘I can’t believe she filmed us,’ Angeline said. ‘I’m going over.’
Edgar tried to stop her. ‘No don’t –’ but she had already climbed over the garden fence and found the keys in a bush.
‘Here you go, Mrs Snitch.’
The older woman’s face pinched like she’d sucked a very sour lemon. ‘You think you’re very clever, don’t you, young lady?’
‘Sorry, Mrs Snitch?’
‘I don’t know how you did it, but I know it was you.’
‘I just wanted to help you with your keys.’
‘I don’t need your help,’ she said. ‘From now on, I’m going to keep an even closer eye on you. I know there’s something going on with you and your family – I don’t know what it is, but I’m going to find out. And when I do, believe me, justice will be done.’
Mrs Snitch grabbed the keys, opened the door and slammed it behind her.
‘Dropped!’ Arthur Usher said again while driving towards Castle Koszmar. ‘Just like that, Mrs Snitch’s complaint has been dropped.’
‘It’s strange that she said she had evidence,’ Lily Usher said, ‘and now she doesn’t.’
‘Very strange,’ Edgar agreed.
‘Humans!’ Grandpa huffed from the back of the station wagon. ‘I had trouble understanding them when I was alive. Now that I’m dead, they’re more confusing than ever. I wouldn’t give it another thought, Lily.’
Arthur drove through the lit tunnel of trees before emerging into the open field that surrounded Castle Koszmar. Hundreds of flaming torches on either side of the road led to the forecourt and brightly lit entrance that were fluttering with the flags of the Griswold family.
The Ushers stepped out of the car, dressed in their elegant best.
‘The castle has been rejuvenated since we saw it last.’ Edgar buttoned his dinner jacket. ‘Don’t you think, Angeline?’
Angeline seemed to have been plucked from other distant thoughts. ‘Mmm? Yes, I guess so.’ She picked at the tassels of her scarf and frowned. ‘There are a lot of people here.’
‘It’s a grand reopening.’
‘Whose silly idea was that?’ she mumbled.
Lily Usher leant down and kissed her on the cheek. ‘Yours, I believe.’
The castle forecourt was packed with expensive cars. Dinner guests emerged dressed in coats, suits and sparkling evening gowns. Light spilled down from dozens of brightly lit windows that had been repaired, polished and filled with colourful flowers. Fiery torches illuminated the entranceway, their light twinkling off the many necklaces and jewels of the arriving guests. Waiters were lined up as they entered, exchanging their coats for tall, colourful drinks.
‘This is really posh.’ Arthur Usher bowed and held out his arm to Lily. ‘Shall I escort you inside, madam?’
Lily curtsied. ‘Why, thank you, kind sir.’
‘How do I look?’ Grandma Rose patted down her red silk dress with handmade roses and fixed her feathered hat. ‘Is it too much? Should I take off the beads? Have I overdone it with the make-up? What about –’
Grandpa Huffman gave her a kiss on the cheek. ‘You, my darling, as always, are perfect.’
Grandma Rose instantly calmed down and even blushed. ‘Oh, Huff.’
The two held each other’s hands and walked inside.
Angeline watched as more people arrived. ‘I think I’m going to be sick.’
‘You’re not going to be sick,’ Edgar said. ‘You’re just nervous.’
She felt her forehead. ‘I think I have a fever.’ She grabbed Edgar’s hand and placed it on her brow. ‘Don’t you agree I have a fever?’
‘It feels perfectly normal to me.’
A sleek silver car sailed into the forecourt. The two front doors opened with a quiet ffffttt, and out stepped Grandmaster Fleischmann and Dylan.
‘Ah, Angeline and Edgar.’ The Grandmaster held up his hands. ‘Always a tremendous pleasure to see you both. All this is a result of your latest catch. You never fail to impress me with your inventiveness and bravery. I also very much enjoyed reading your final reports.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Edgar said.
‘And as I suspected, you were the perfect choice to show Dylan the way through his very first call-out. I couldn’t think of a better pair of catchers to introduce him to the finer details of this very noble profession of ours.’
‘It really was our pleasure, sir. Wasn’t it, Angeline?’
Angeline nodded and forced a smile.
‘And he tells me he can’t wait for his next one.’ Fleischmann tousled his grandson’s hair. ‘I had expected nothing less. I’ll let you young ones come in when you’re ready.’
Fleischmann swept his cape over his shoulder and sauntered through the gathering crowd.
Dylan stared at Angeline, whose normally calm appearance was replaced with a fidgeting, pale, nail-biting one. ‘Is anything wrong?’
‘Wrong? There’s nothing wrong. Why should anything be wrong?’
‘Because your face is the colour of porridge and there’s not much left of your scarf.’
Angeline looked down to see she had unthreaded her scarf, leaving a scrappy, tattered mess. She pulled it off and tucked what was left of it into her bag.
‘Angeline thinks she has a distinct inability to be entertaining – or even vaguely interesting – when she is in unfamiliar company,’ Edgar said.
Dylan frowned. ‘This Angeline?’
Edgar shook his head. ‘Yes, this one.’
‘That’s crazy.’
&nb
sp; ‘I know.’
‘But she reasoned with an axe-throwing, horse-charging ghost who almost killed me on several occasions.’
‘It seems to come more naturally when she’s at work.’
Angeline poked her head between them. ‘I am still here, you know.’
‘So you’re nervous around a bunch of regular people at a party but okay with angry, flamethrowing ghosts?’
‘I already realise how strange it sounds.’ Angeline shook her head. ‘Maybe I’ll stay out here and wait until it’s over.’
‘This whole night is your idea.’
‘I know. What was I thinking?’
Even more people had driven into the forecourt, which was brimming with glamour and excited chatter, and into it all slunk a black hearse with dark, tinted windows. It pulled up beside them. The front door opened and out stepped the polished, pointed shoe and ebony cane of Mr Roderick Gloom. He took a deep breath.
‘Evening, everyone,’ he said with a wave of his hat and a bow. ‘What a fine night for a party.’
He walked to the other side of the car and opened the door for Myra Gray. She pulled her purple velvet cape around her shoulders and threw a scowl around the grounds that landed squarely on the group of young ghost catchers.
‘Looking forward to the show, Myra?’ Edgar asked.
‘I can hardly contain myself.’ If Myra’s look could have been measured in degrees, it would have begun snowing. ‘l’d better go in before I pass out from excitement.’
As she left, a large crow cawed from the tree above.
‘Crows can be an ominous sign.’ Gloom seemed to revel in the sight of the black-winged creature.
‘Really? Of what?’ Dylan asked.
‘Death.’
‘Death?’
‘There are many examples.’ Gloom’s voice was low and serious. ‘In the Tower of London, where crows famously live, it is said they were attracted by the smell of death from the legion of executions held there. For me, I almost had my arm taken off by one.’ He pulled up his sleeve and showed a scar gouged across his skin. ‘Got to the hospital just in time so the doctors could sew it back on.’
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