"THE GHOST HUNTER"

TEASER

Carolyn, pencil gripped between her teeth in concentration, is typing away on a portable in the Master Cabin. She stops, stands, and stares at what she has written. She takes the pencil out of her mouth and reads aloud:

CAROLYN

'She gasped. Fearfully, she sank down in the chair…'

She sits back in her chair, stumped for the moment; then gets up and starts pacing the floor near the bay window. Suddenly the sound of typing! She's not immediately aware of it.

CAROLYN

Let's see now . . . 'She sank down stuggling for breath . . .' No, that sounds like she's drowning . . .

Meanwhile, the keys on her typewriter begin moving mysteriously, hunt-and-peck style. Carolyn hurries over. Her eyebrows rise. She straightens, turns to see what she expects to see . . . Captain Gregg, arms folded, grinning at her.

CAROLYN

(raises eyebrows)

Captain! Definitely not for a family magazine. But intriguing, nonetheless!

CAPTAIN

(smiling)

My dear woman, I see we share a taste for fine writing – and privacy. This arrangement of ours may not be as intolerable as it seemed at first.

CAROLYN

(blushing)

I crave privacy, but after last night -

CAPTAIN

(softly)

I no longer crave solitude.

CAROLYN

Embarrassed, she hands him the paper and sits on the bed.

Your writing . . . is nonetheless, very . . . imaginative, Captain Gregg.

CAPTAIN

(stiffening)

Blast it, woman!

CAROLYN

(startled)

Don't blast me in my own bedroom!

CAPTAIN

'Our' bedroom now, m'dear.

He dematerializes. Carolyn rises, and runs her fingers tentatively over the telescope.

CAROLYN

(sotto)

Which makes privacy an illusion – how can I crave an illusion?

The sounds of tires squeals in the driveway as Claymore shows up with another man, Paul Wilkie. Captain Gregg rematerializes in the bedroom.

CAPTAIN

(enraged)

He's bringing a stranger here! Does he think Gull Cottage is a public tavern? Madame, stand fast – I'm about to repel boarders!