Page 79 of Dead Serious Case 4 Professor Prometheus Plume

“Uh, who’s she?” I ask Roger, who’s standing, as usual, next to Bertie.

He sighs. “Leona Falberg-Black. Fancies herself a silent movie star. The woman can’t act to save her life, and it didn’t. She was crushed to death by a falling stage light when they set up a makeshift film studio in the ballroom back in thirty-one.”

My gaze shifts down the line, and beside the silent movie star and the knight, I see PC Armitage, Skid the punk, and the little evacuee kid, Arthur, who likes to move furniture around. On the end is another one I don’t recognise, who’s dressed in some sort of historical naval uniform.

“That’s Rear-Admiral Hilary Ashton-Drake, another one of Bertie’s lot, died 1879.Syphilis.” Roger mouths the last word. “Never could keep it in his pants.”

To the side, Edwina is standing with her arm looped in Professor Plume’s as if she’s about to take a stroll with him in the park.

Professor Plume, on the other hand, seems less shell-shocked and more miserable.

“Professor,” I say, hoping none of the living guests hear me. “Professor?” I repeat, and he turns to look at me. “Um, I know this is obviously a difficult time for you, but… uh… I don’t suppose you remember what happened to you?”

His lips tighten and his back stiffens as he draws himself up, which looks really odd with the huge carving knife sticking out of his neck at an awkward angle.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” he says peevishly.

“Okay.” I blow out a breath and try a different tack. “Do you know who killed you?”

“I said I didn’t want to talk about it,” he snaps, but instead of looking angry, he looks… embarrassed.

“Okaaay.”

“Right then, you lot,” Bertie booms again. “Spread out and leave no stone unturned until we’ve found this unfortunate fellow’s remains.”

“Bertie,” I hiss quietly. “I really don’t think this is a good idea.”

“Nonsense! It’s an excellent idea, lad.” She laughs. “I haven’t had this much fun in years! We’ve got more of the resident ghosts on the upper levels searching, but we’ll handle down here. No one knows the house like we do. We’ll find that wayward corpse before you can say funeral director.”

“Bertie, there are going to be a whole load of thealiveguests milling around and doing exactly the same thing. It’s a recipe for disaster!”

“Balderdash! Stop worrying. They won’t even know we’re there!” She grins.

“Happy hunting!” Roger blows me a cheeky kiss and skips off.

“But…” I say helplessly as they scatter. “Fuck…”

I turn around to head back to Danny and jerk in shock to find Ellis standing right in front of me.

“Who were you talking to?” he asks.

“No…one…” I hedge.

“Yes, you were. You were having a proper conversation.”

“Uh…”

“I’ve seen you do it a couple of times, talking to someone who’s not there. I–” His eyes widen excitedly and he does that little thing where he bounces on the balls of his feet. “Oh, were you talking to a ghost? Do you see them? Or have you got an imaginary friend? Because I had an imaginary friend when I was a kid, but that was years ago.”

For a moment I slightly debate which is the lesser of two evils. “Fine. I was talking to ghosts,” I give in. I’m too tired, it’s already approaching midnight, and I get the feeling this is going to be the night that never ends.

“Oh!” Ellis’ eyes go round and he makes an ‘O’ shape with his mouth.

I roll my eyes and breathe in. “I choked to death on an ice cube a year ago and was technically dead for a minute but Danny revived me, and when I woke up I could see ghosts and my best friend is a dead drag queen.”

“How exciting!” Ellis seriously looks like he’s about to explode.

“But you can’t tell anyone.”