Page 67 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume
“Good lord,” Bertie mutters in surprise at Edwina’s acquiescence. She turns to me with a look of grudging admiration.
“Oooh.” Roger studies me in interest. “Very masterful. Who knew? It’s a shame you and I wouldn’t be compatible.”
“What with me being alive and you being dead?” I huff out a laugh.
“Actually, it’s more that I suspect you and I both prefer to be on the receiving end of things, if you know what I mean.” He takes another pull of his cigarette. “But I’ve never let being dead stop me with anything. When you’ve been around a while, let’s just say you learn a few tricks.” He eyes Danny making polite conversation with Mr Pennington, who’s sat on the other side of him, then me. “If you two would like a new experience…”
“No,” I say firmly. He simply shrugs.
The sound of a phone ringing draws my attention to the end of the table. I watch as Professor Plume glances at his phone, then wipes his mouth on his napkin and excuses himself.
Because my gaze is following him across the dining room as he exits, I’m immediately aware when another ghostly apparition appears, although I’m not sure I could’ve missed him regardless. If the bright red tartan trousers, ripped and held together by safety pins, his tightly laced army boots, his Ramones T-shirt, and his lime green mohawk with shaved sides hadn’t clued me in, the blare of The Clash from the boombox on his shoulder would have given him away.
He stalks across the room belligerently, sticking his tongue out and flipping the finger to everyone in his eyeline.
“Oh, for fuck’s sake.” Roger sighs, taking another drag of his cigarette.
“Who’s he?” I whisper out the side of my mouth as discreetly as possible so none of the other guests hear me talking to thin air.
“That’s Skid, died in eighty-six.” Roger scoffs. “Defenestration.”
“Roger,” Bertie admonishes him. “He fell out of one of the fifth-floor windows while he was staying here.”
“Fell or was pushed?” Roger waves the hand holding the cigarette airily. “Because honestly, with his taste in music, I wouldn’t have blamed anyone.”
I watch as Skid climbs onto the table and stalks down the middle, head banging and shouting to the lyrics, not that any of the guests are aware.
I rub my temples and sigh, feeling a headache brewing. I’ve never met such a badly behaved bunch in my life, living or dead.
“Don’t worry, boo,” Dusty pipes up. “I’ve got this one.”
“Good luck.” Roger snorts. “He’s notoriously pigheaded. He won’t switch that music off once he gets going, and it’s only a matter of time before he fires himself up enough to start breaking things.”
“Yes, well.” Dusty stands slowly and smooths her dress. “I’m not just a spirit. I am aspirit guide. Which comes with a certain skill set.” She links her hands and cracks her fingers.
Suddenly the boombox shoots out of Skid’s hands, sails across the room, and disappears. Skid stops and looks around, then stares at his empty hands, baffled at where his tape deck went.
“I wish I could do that,” Roger murmurs, staring at Dusty in admiration.
Dusty’s eyes narrow on the punk rocker and I almost feel sorry for him. He has no idea that he’s about to be hit with a glitter ball that packs more of a punch than the asteroid that wiped out the dinosaurs. “Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Dusty says sweetly, “Mr Skid and I are going to have words.”
The next thing I know, both of them have disappeared.
“By Jove.” Bertie breathes reverently and turns to me. “Are you absolutely sure she’s a chap?”
I nod sympathetically at Bertie and thankfully things quieten down so I at least get to eat my dessert, a mouth-watering lemon meringue pie, without either wearing my pudding or risking a perforated eardrum from a wannabe Sex Pistol.
“If I could have your attention, please,” Ellis pipes up as everyone finishes up and the actors excuse themselves from the table. “The event is about to start. We’ll just wait for the characters to take their places, then we’ll be dividing you all into pairs and start you off in different locations. From there on, it’s up to you on where you go and who you speak to. Clues have been planted for you to find, and you can ask the characters any questions. We’ll all congregate in the study in two hours for the conclusion and to see if any of you have guessed correctly! Now, do you all have your notebooks ready?”
Essie and Martha raise theirs and wave them excitedly.
“Excellent!” Ellis claps. “Okay, Rosie will be stationed in the study and I will be in the ballroom if anyone requires help. Danny and Tristan, if you’d like to start off here in the dining room. Essie and Martha, you’re in the conservatory. Mr and Mrs Nakatomi, you’re in the billiards room, and Mr Pennington and Dr Walsh, you’re in the library. Any questions?”
Dr Walsh hiccups. “Is there anything to drink in the library?”
“No.” Ellis smiles. “There will be drinks served at the conclusion as well as champagne to celebrate the winners.”
“Hmm.” Dr Walsh blinks blearily. “Perhaps I should start in the bar then.”