I was watching the monitors. I saw him die. There was no one else there."
"We're not convinced."
Paul rolled his eyes and shook his head. "Then you're fools." He darted off towards a door beside the blackboard and signalled for them to follow. Jerry glanced at Anne, and she replied with a shrug.
They followed him into his office, squeezing past cabinets and open boxes filled with electrical junk. Below a window, behind his desk, were seven large filing boxes marked Warwickshire Police. Paul removed the lid of the topmost box and retrieved a green A4 book.
"The Police gave all this back to me once they'd finished with it. This will tell you everything you need to know." He handed Jerry the journal just as laughter irrupted inside the classroom. "I'm afraid you'll have to excuse me, class is about to begin. Feel free to use my desk." Then, before stepping through the door, he paused and looked back. "Ghosts - I don't think they like being seen." And then he was gone.
"What's that supposed to mean?" asked Anne.
"Who knows?" Jerry flicked through the journal and chuckled.
"Well?" asked Anne.
"It's only the plans for Charles' experiment." He opened the lid of the nearest box and laughed in surprise. "Oh my God," he said. "It's only Charles' experiment. It's all here."
"So?"
"So, we set it all up and re-run the experiment and prove once and for all that a ghost did not murder Charles."
Jerry pushed the last of the plugs into its socket and stared with concern at the wire configuration. There were cables for monitors, cables for ballasts, cables for lights, and cables for extension leads. He studied the drawing in the journal and then glanced back to the cables. As his eyes followed a cable along the hallway, a faint shadow crossed the wall.
"I hope you're not going to burn my house down."
Jerry spun round. Mrs. Chedwell stood just yards away, her eyes on fire.
"I still hope to sell this place, you know. I won't get much for it if it's just a pile of ashes."
Jerry placed a hand on his chest. "Mrs. Chedwell, you startled me. You're very quiet on your feet."
"For someone of my age?" she said, raising an eyebrow.
"No, no, that's not what I meant," he said.
"Well, I just wanted to let you know that if you want a drink, you can help yourself in the kitchen, I'm not your tea's maid."
"Thank you," said Jerry. "That's very kind of you."
She tilted her wrist and glanced at her watch.
"Mrs. Chedwell, can I ask you a question?"
"If you must."
"Do you really believe it was Cane's ghost who murdered Charles?"
"Of course, I do."
"Then why are you not trying to stop me from doing what I'm about to do?"
"Would it do me any good? You'd probably get some sort of court judgement to overrule me. Am I right?"
"Do you think I'm going to get myself killed?"
"I think you are going to see more than what you bargained for."
With that said, she walked gingerly along the hallway, shaking her head and muttering with annoyance at all the cables. Jerry glanced at his watch; it was nearly time. He raced downstairs and into the reception room. The top of Anne's head just visible above the three monitors.
