Page 89 of Murder Most Haunted

‘I like the depth of quality it gives to the photos,’ said Noah, finally releasing the film and holding it gently in his hands. ‘It adds a lot to the experience of my website subscribers.’

‘And do you have many?’ she asked, carefully. ‘Subscribers, I mean.’ She remembered him saying something about ‘over a thousand’ on Friday, but she had little context for the figure.

He turned his back and pulled a strip of the film from the reel, cutting it into sections. ‘Uh. Yeah, enough. I’ll have even more when this show lands.’

‘Do you want some help?’ she asked as he continued slowly cutting.

‘It’s OK, I like doing it.’ He raised his head. ‘The precision.’

Of course, thought Midge. ‘Will you be including Dr Mortimer’s death in the podcast?’

‘Absolutely! It adds even more evidence.’ Noah lifted up one of the negative strips with what looked like barbecue tongs and placed it into the first tray, completely submerging it in the solution.

Midge frowned. ‘In what way?’

‘Well, clearly the ghost is behind both murders.’ He held up gloved hands and ticked the points off one by one. ‘Rendell, dead in the bath – Charles Atherton, dead in the bath.’

Midge listened.

‘Now, Dr Mortimer, death by shooting – William Atherton, death by shooting,’ said Noah, dropping another strip into the tray. ‘My subscribers are going to love it.’

Midge watched him lift the first strip from the first tray into the second tray – the rinse.

‘Sorry about Bridie,’ he said, suddenly. ‘The cancer, I mean.’

Midge nodded.

‘My mum, um, she had it.’ He was looking down at the first tray and had started to swirl the film around. ‘She beat it, though,’ he said. ‘But it was tough for a while. She was chemo-shielding for a long time too, so we always had to be careful with germs and stuff.’

‘Chemo-shielding?’ Midge frowned.

‘Yeah, you know. The chemo leaves them so vulnerable to infections and stuff.’ He glanced sideways at her. ‘I’m surprised Bridie isn’t taking a bit more care.’

‘Is that why you dropped out and moved home?’ asked Midge, remembering the luggage label.

Noah nodded and slowly moved another strip of film to thesecond tray. ‘Yeah. A couple of years ago. Still, it’s given me a chance to work on my podcasts.’

Standing there in the dark, Midge thought about Noah’s argument with Rendell on that first night. Rendell had been going to take away his equipment. And then there were the doctor’s words:Great for Noah’s podcast thingy, though.

His continual reluctance for anyone to go and get help.

‘Can you pass me that tray,’ he asked, pointing with his hand.

Midge moved the tray closer and watched as Noah carefully placed the next round of film into it. The smell was starting to make her feel dizzy.

What was it Rona had said earlier?

Lost all his sponsors.

‘Noah?’ she asked, trying to breathe through her nose.

‘Mmmm...’

‘Rona seems to think that your podcast has been dropped.’

His shoulders stiffened and for a moment he stopped swirling the negatives in the rinse. ‘Oh.’

‘Is it true?’ Midge stepped backwards towards the door, to get some air.