1950 – talking about the Stewart house in the Isle of Jersey
"Really, Charlene, why is this house suddenly so important?" Jenkins asked in a huff, holding the phone slightly away from his ear. "Ghosts are no concern of the Library unless they are tied to an artifact which you admit is not the case here."
"No – it's not a Library issue" Charlene admitted, her voice almost tinny through the long distance line. "Hence the reason I can't ask the current Librarian to look into it."
"Or Judson" Jenkins muttered.
"I heard that" Charlene replied. "No, I can't ask Judson either. We've lost quite a few Librarians during this war, both in Europe and in the Pacific. War does have a way of stirring up magic and brining artifacts to life that should have remained hidden so needless to say this current Librarian has his hands full trying to clean up the nightmares that have popped up that his predecessor might have not been able to deal with. No – this is a more personal issue for me. I know the two men who bought the house from the Marlishs, the owners of the house who, according to my friends, actually confronted the ghosts once they had tried to move in. They were quite unnerved to find the run-down mansion they had such hopes for already occupied."
"Why didn't the previous owners tell your friends about the spectral inhabitants?"
Charlene's voice turned brittle as she spoke. "Probably because they had already lost a great deal of money on the purchase of the house and were afraid that the people they were trying to sell it to would think them mad for believing in such ideas. Both young men had seen the reality of the horrors of war – neither was inclined to believe in the supernatural. The owner at the time, Mr. Marlish, was a pianist had found a position with an orchestra after his family's run-in with the unearthly occupants of the house, and they needed money to set up a home for themselves and their son Victor as far away from that haunted site as possible. The only way to do that was to sell their existing house for as high a price as they could get – something that wasn't likely to happen if they started to tell tales about ghostly encounters."
"Yet your friends did hear these stories" Jenkins said pointedly.
"Yes. In fact – it was Marlish's young son Vincent who told them about the ghosts, specifically the ghost of Anne, the little girl he had interacted with. Needless to say – my friends did not believe him. At least, not at first."
Jenkins sighed. "I had tickets back to the states, Charlene. My plans were to take up residence at the Annex and lose myself in my studies."
'I know" Charlene admitted. "But once you are in the Annex, I suspect you'll never leave it – and I need this situation dealt with as quickly as possible."
"Fine" Jenkins huffed. "But what, exactly, do you expect me to do about this? I am not a medium. Even if I see signs of the ghosts, I do not have the power to send them on their way."
"No – but at least knowing they are there is a start. Perhaps they can be convinced to move on so that the manor can be put to a better use."
"I somehow doubt that" Jenkins replied. "But fine – I'll see if I can make contact." He hung up the phone and looked out to the taxi waiting outside the small café. "Take me to the Stewart house outside of town."
"That run down old place?" The driver replied. "Rumor is that it's haunted."
"So I've been told" Jenkins replied with a sigh.