Chapter Seven

The Ghost Hunter Returns

Paul Wilkie stretched mightily as he left the Schooner Bay Inn. He groaned as he rubbed his now clean-shaven chin. He felt a whole lot better for a couple of hours of much-needed sleep, a hot shower and a good breakfast. He'd be staying at the inn from now on.

Spirit Island had been a bust. It was no longer the main focus of his search for the truth. But it still rankled he'd found nothing. He just knew there was something that was still eluding him. Some vital clue he was missing.

"At least, it means there'll be no more trying to sleep in my damn car," he grumbled as he descended the front steps to the sidewalk.

He stretched again and then stood looking all around, trying to decide what to do next. The sun was climbing in the sky and the day promised to be warm and cloudless.

He frowned down the street in the direction of Claymore Gregg's office. The man who'd initially promised him much. He'd taken him out to Gull Cottage on that first ill-fated trip that had led to Paul's ultimate disgrace and sacking from the university and a premature end to his life's work.

"I paid that man a fair sum and he didn't deliver on his promise," Paul grouched. "But I know he knows something about that house. I'm going to have it out with him right now." He set off down the street in the direction of Gregg's office, determined to renew their thwarted acquaintance.

※※※※※

"We will miss you, Olivia…" Carolyn kissed the medium's cheek as they stood beside her car. "I would rather you were the one staying."

"Oh, don't you go giving it another thought, my dear…" Olivia shook her head as she patted her hostess's cheek. "Your good husband and I have it all in hand. The spirits will do what they do best. All will be revealed in a timely fashion." She smiled conspiratorially.

"Cousin Harriet's husband pines for her already," Daniel confided, keeping a wary eye on the front porch, where Harriet hovered, looking uncertain. "He will have a visit from someone he dreads and that will set the right wheels in motion."

"Well, as much as I love Harriet, and I do," Carolyn replied loyally. "The less I see of her, the better. Whatever is to come cannot happen soon enough in my opinion."

"We both knew you would think that way," Olivia replied comfortably. "So, the less you know, the better. Consider it a done deal."

She turned to Daniel, drawing closer. "My spirits do say that the dark entity they detected last night is moving slowly closer, seeking an opening he can exploit. And his cowardly stink precedes him. It grows stronger and bolder."

She nodded as she saw Daniel's set expression. "But I know you have all in hand and have been forewarned."

"I have indeed," Daniel concurred. "No demon will slide past my walls and the demon-slaying knife is never far from my hand."

"Keep it there. Keep it close…" Olivia advised and then she sighed as she stepped back. "Now, you must give my love to all your loved ones. I shall be back this way as soon as I can get away from my otherworldly duties. I shall miss you all."

She sighed again as she kissed Carolyn's cheek and shook hands with Daniel. "Now I must away to Bangor before they come looking for me." She chuckled as she opened her driver's door and got in.

Carolyn and Daniel watched the car drive out of sight. "Don't worry…" Daniel put an arm around her waist. "I won't allow that woman to annoy you beyond permission."

"I don't like that woman," Harriet said from behind them, having left the front porch to see off her rival. "I am glad to see you concur with my opinion," she continued huffily, totally misreading Daniel's last comment. "I do not know why you tolerate her. She was perfectly horrid to me this morning and as for that cat she has introduced to this house…"

She clicked her tongue dismissively, turning to stare at Danny and Lucy where they lay on the front lawn on either side of their adored new pet. They took turns stroking the animal's head and Bruiser purred mightily in reply with his blue eyes half-closed in ecstasy.

"Oh, Harriet, how you do exaggerate," Carolyn admonished her. "The children all love Bruiser. He would never harm any of them."

She looked toward the twins. "Come on inside for milk and cookies, you two. And make sure you don't go beyond the gate."

"Yes, Mum." Danny nodded, standing up.

"Okay, Mum," Lucy added, frowning at Harriet with dislike as she got to her feet.

"I can tell you that my dear, sweet child will never be subjected to such a dangerous animal," Harriet replied stiffly, laying one hand over her abdomen.

"Well, that is typical of you and a great pity," Daniel replied smoothly, as he took his wife's arm and escorted her toward the house.

The twins clattered past them, heading for the kitchen. Bruiser stalked after them with his great plumed tail and head held high.

Harriet hurried to catch up with her cousin, her brow creased with confusion. "What did he mean by that?" she asked Carolyn. "I mean, I'm only trying to be practical. Any animal is not hygienic to have inside a house. I'm only saying what I think is best."

"You also need to learn how to live, Harriet," Carolyn replied as they entered the house.

"What do you mean?" Harriet frowned in honest confusion. "My life is full."

"If you don't understand, then I can't explain it to you." Carolyn shook her head.

"Please, my dear…" Harriet laid a pleading hand on her arm. "Come on into the living room. I have been charged with a very special message for you." She frowned dismissively at Daniel. "I have not had the time to tell you before now."

"If you think that you may—" Daniel began closing his hands into fists against his thighs.

Carolyn laid a warning hand on his forearm. "Please. I can handle this, my love…" she said quietly. "I will allow Harriet to have her say." She smiled. "Tell Martha to bring us in some coffee. But she'll need to give us an hour."

She raised her brows. "In the meantime, you do have certain business to conduct up in the wheelhouse…" She glanced up at the ceiling before she reached up to kiss his bearded cheek fondly before turning back to her frowning cousin.

"Lead the way," she said, indicating the living room doors. "It's about time you said what you have truly come all this way to say to me."

※※※※※

Elroy trailed dolefully behind Paul Wilkie; his face screwed up in anxious bewilderment. "What does he want with Claymore Gregg? He said he wants to speak with him," he asked of his four-legged companion. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all."

Mr Peabody mewed his agreement. He didn't like it either.

He'd found innumerable patches of tempting sunlight. But each time he'd disposed himself to settle down and curl up in contentment, his master was off again, chasing after the blasted human intruder like he was some great treasure. The cat had been forced to get to his feet and follow.

'Why can't we just go home and forget all about this fool and his errand?' his next mewl said plaintively.

"Because we need to see what he's up to," Elroy replied quickly. "He seems to know where he's going." His chest puffed out. "The Captain trusts me to tell him everything. Now please be quiet and let me think."

Mr Peabody said a rude word and subsided. He sighed mightily and hissed his displeasure as the two worried spirits followed Wilkie down the sidewalk.

※※※※※

Claymore didn't open his eyes and didn't dare acknowledge the scary and unwanted presence in his bedroom as he kept right on singing. "Thirty-six bottles of beer on the wall… Thirty-six bottles of beer… Take one down, pass it around, thirty-five bottles of beer on the wall…"

His voice had slowed to a crawl, and it was beginning to crack. Now he sounded more like a crocking frog than a human being, but he kept right on with dogged determination.

He'd thrown himself down on his bed and now lay full length with his legs crossed to be comfortable. "Thirty-five bottles of beer on the wall… Thirty-five bottles of beer…" In a perverse way, he was almost beginning to enjoy himself. He had never felt more in charge around the demon before today.

"Shut up!" George Turner roared at him in frustration. "In the name of all that's unholy, cease that blasted and confounded caterwauling! I can't take any more!"

An hour before, he'd dragged a chair from the office into the bedroom and he'd been trying to outlast Claymore until he ran out of breath or lyrics to his drivelling song. He sat with his hands clapped over his own ears and his eyes closed. His spectacles were steamed up with impotent rage.

Claymore cracked one eye open and glanced at his nemesis. He was no longer scared by the dancing nimbus of fire around the demon's head or the horns that had grown out of his forehead. He breathed cautiously, knowing he might just be finally winning.

He silently thanked Olivia Tibaldi for her sage advice and kept right on singing. He would sing until his voice finally gave out or the demon left him alone. He prayed mightily it would be the latter. He wasn't planning on going to Hades any time soon he just knew he wouldn't be able to stand the heat or the odorous company.

Besides, he had an election for town president coming up. He wasn't about to miss that. "…Take one down, pass it around, thirty-four bottles of beer on the wall…"

Suddenly, there was a firm knocking at the locked front door of the office. "Mr Gregg?" a man's voice called. "I know you're at home. I can hear you in there…"

※※※※※

Paul Wilkie frowned as he knocked again. He was sure he could hear Claymore Gregg's voice inside, chanting something that sounded like a song. It made no sense to him, but he was relieved the man had not yet gone out.

He tried again. "Come on, Mr Gregg, open up. I know you're in there. You can't hide from me. We need to talk."

Claymore didn't desist from his singing as he sat up on the bed. He recognised the voice of his new visitor. Now he was caught between two entities, and he wanted nothing to do with either of them.

"You'll have to answer him…" Turner purred with satisfaction. "And to do that you'll have to stop singing…" He sat forward eagerly, his glittering dark eyes fixed on his hapless prey. "Then your soul will finally be mine…"

He lifted his shoulders. "Such are the karmic stains on yours that it's almost worthless, but it will be something to give my master to keep him off my back and demanding progress reports that I do not have time for. I have but this last chance to make good on my promise."

He raised one hand and pointed his forefinger at a cringing Claymore who was still singing but now under his breath. "…Take one down, pass it around, thirty-two bottles of beer on the wall…"

"You will help me on my final mission!" Turner barked. "My master does not tolerate failure. I will gift him your Captain's soul before my master seeks to take mine for all eternity and banishes me beyond redemption. You can be very sure of that."

He smiled thinly as he crossed his heart cynically. "I promise I will gift you with everything your heart has ever desired…" he wheedled. "Everything… You will be rich beyond even your wildest dreams…" He nodded as Claymore's canting mantra suddenly faltered.

At that moment, Wilkie knocked again and then rattled the door handle. "Come on, Gregg. There's no use in ignoring me. I won't go away. Come on, open the door. Let's have a talk, man to man."

"Oh, mano a mano, is it?" Turner sneered. "Your visitor seems not to know there is no man in here. There's only a snivelling coward who's about to get his just reward." His raised forefinger firmed, waiting for Claymore to run out of breath.

But he didn't bargain for his prey being made of sterner stuff when his immortal soul was threatened. Claymore didn't want to die. Not today or tomorrow. Not for a very long time.

Still singing the song in his mind, he shot off the bed and hurried into the office, heading for the front door. Turner trailed after him in honest and confounded confusion. He had no intention of revealing his presence to this new player in their game. He wanted to assess the lay of the land and how he could take any possible future advantage.

"What are you about now, man?" he demanded of Claymore. "It's pointless to resist. Give in. You know you want to."

Claymore shook his head and didn't answer as he went right on singing that same song over and over inside his mind. He snatched paper and pencil from his desk as he passed it. He began to scribble on the page and then unlocked and opened the front door.

"I knew you were in here," Wilkie snapped, not bothering with any pleasantries. "You and I need to talk. You owe me an explanation and some answers."

Claymore shook his head and didn't answer. Instead, he waved the piece of paper in his hand at him.

Wilkie frowned as he read it. "Laryngitis?" he said in disbelief. "You sounded fine a few moments ago. I know I heard you singing."

Claymore scribbled again and held the paper out. 'Radio.'

"Is this some kind of joke?" Wilkie demanded to know, pushing his way into the office.

Of course, he didn't see Turner standing in the doorway to the bedroom. But his nose did twitch at the bad smell of sulphur.

"Phew…" Wilkie put a hand to his nose. "Did something die in here? Sure smells like it."

Claymore scribbled again. 'Bad eggs.'

"Look, this is nuts…" Wilkie rounded on him. "And why are you in your pyjamas at this hour of the morning? It's almost ten o'clock."

'Upset tummy…' Claymore scribbled desperately as he tried to keep track of how many bottles of beer he still had left on the wall inside his mind. 'Dyspepsia…' he added for good measure.

Elroy materialised behind Wilkie. "I don't like this. I don't like this at all. My captain will need to know. This is big news. Big! Huge!"

He turned badly frightened eyes toward Turner. He cringed at the sight of the demon with flames standing out all around his head and his dark eyes blazing with discontented malice. The twin horns on his forehead did nothing to improve his devilish appearance.

"You!" Turner pounced on him. "You were aboard ship that day your blasted Captain harpooned me twice like the coward he was and is!"

"My captain is not a coward!" Elroy bristled. "You were the great big fraidy-cat that day! Or should I say, a big, fat fraidy-whale!" He stood his ground as Mr Peabody hissed his displeasure with his tail and all his fur standing on end.

'… Twenty-four bottles of beer on the wall… Twenty-four bottles of beer…' Claymore had tried to remember the right number but decided to give up and just keep right on singing.

He frowned at Elroy and his cat, whom he could see quite clearly. What they were doing here he had no idea, unless they'd been sent by Daniel to keep an eye on the unwanted and unwelcome arrival of Paul Wilkie.

If so, then he prayed his great-uncle was not too far behind. He didn't think he could hold out much longer against the demon's intrusion. Or Wilkie's. He didn't want to give up his eternal soul, or his wallet, to either of them!

"You're not listening to me, Gregg," Wilkie accused. "First of all, I want my money back. I paid you well to take me out to Gull Cottage and show me proof that it's as haunted as you said it was. You wanted me to exorcise the spirit of Captain Gregg, remember? That was our deal and you reneged on it." He looked around the office, suddenly feeling uneasy again as if he was being watched.

"A ghost hunter?" Elroy gasped trying to make himself small and shooing his cat to hide behind him. "Oh, no…"

"A ghost hunter…" Turner stopped scowling and rubbed a thoughtful hand over his jawline. "How interesting and how very fortunate…"

The flames died away from his head and his horns disappeared. His heavy-rimmed spectacles gleamed with malice and menace. "Now, this is the kind of man I may find I have an excellent use for…"

He rounded on Claymore, waving a dismissive hand at him. "Forget it, Gregg. I will concede that you've won this round. But don't go getting too set up in yourself. There will be another time for us…" He vanished with a gleeful chuckle.

"I demand to know exactly what is going on here, Gregg," Wilkie grouched, waving a disgusted hand in front of his nose again. "And for God's sake, man! The least you can do is open a window! How can you live in this stench?"

Claymore stumbled to his office couch and fell onto it. He felt drained and near to fainting. "Warn him…" he muttered almost soundlessly, turning his back to Wilkie to stare at Elroy. "Go now and warn your Captain…"

"Oh, aye, aye!" Elroy snapped to attention and saluted. "Yes, Sir! Right away, Sir!" He grabbed for the sagging sock on his leg as he dematerialised.

Mr Peabody had just found a small patch of welcome sunshine on the office floor, and he was circling within it, preparing to settle down and enjoy some comfort after a very trying morning. He bristled once more, hissing his feline displeasure at Claymore as he resigned himself to following his master.

※※※※※

"I knew I could smell the unwanted presence of that cursed demon," Lucius remarked darkly, pacing the wheelhouse floor. "I smelt him more strongly this morning."

"Aye, Sir," Elroy replied nervously. "It's him, right enough, Sir." He saluted again. "He's back and he's not happy with how things are. Claymore Gregg managed to hold him off."

Lucius turned as he shook his head. "I didn't think Turner had the cajónes or the ability to climb back up from that hole we buried him in. He must have called in a good deal of favours and promised to deliver."

"We still have the knife and the willingness to use it," Daniel replied, laying his hand on the slick sharkskin sheath beside him. "Turner has not dared to show his face here to us."

"No…" Lucius replied thoughtfully, dropping down to sit in his old rump-sprung armchair. "He will find others to do his bidding."

"He has his blasted sights set on that Paul Wilkie," Elroy worried. "He was unaware."

"Yes…" Lucius shook his head. "The detestable smell of the demon's stink has grown stronger this morning. It fair took my breath away and brought me here to warn you. But it does mean he's enraged at something or someone. And we know who."

Daniel nodded. "Olivia's spirits also detected the demon's stink. Claymore's no match for him."

"He held his own very stoutly, Sir," Elroy replied. "You would have been proud of him."

"Then we can thank your nephew for that," Lucius mused slowly. "I did not know the coward had it in him. Turner seeks to possess one and make him or her do his evil bidding."

He frowned across at his good friend. "And there is still the Mitford to deal with. We shall be busy these next few days."

"Yes…" Daniel acknowledged slowly. "And until we know exactly what Turner is up to, I do think it's time for your return visit to Mitford. Make him see the error of his ways in not controlling his impulsive wife as he should."

He frowned his discontent. "My beloved wife is downstairs right now, lending a kindly ear to that woman's pointless prattle. I swear if Harriet wasn't expecting a child…" His fists clenched on the sharkskin sheath of the demon knife.

"Tell me more…" Lucius stood up to lean his fists on the edge of Daniel's desk. "I've been looking forward to renewing my acquaintance with that one's blasted husband..."

"Oh, I knew I was right to come and deliver my report immediately…" Elroy smiled happily as he watched the pair of them as they schemed and planned. "I just knew you'd wish to know."

He puffed out his chest as he saluted. "I'll be sure to keep a weather eye on the doings of that Wilkie, Sir! See if I don't! He's much too nosy for my liking. We'll get to keelhauling him yet!"

He grinned in anticipation of his self-appointed task and was glad to see his captain didn't disagree with the need. A sharp nod of approval was his reward and he saluted again while trying to stop his striped sock from falling down his shin once more. He moved backwards and sat down unobtrusively, glad to be seen as a worthwhile part of the plans that were being hatched.

Beside him, Mr Peabody had finally managed to discover a small patch of sunshine on the red velvet loveseat. He jumped up and had no intention of moving from there. Not for anyone, a demon included. Not even if the very devil himself showed up!

He had no interest in any human or ghostly plans. He closed his yellow eyes and sighed with deep contentment, tucking his nose into the end of his tail.

※※※※※