Ghostfinders 03 -Ghost of a Dream

around as the sound of quiet, mocking laughter drifted across the stage from the far wings. And there, standing half in the shadows and half in the light, smiling easily, was Old Tom, the caretaker. Except he was standing taller and straighter now…and he didn’t look like someone who’d take orders from other people. He looked like the man in charge. Benjamin and Elizabeth stared at him, then moved to stand close together. Happy started forward, to put himself between the two actors and danger…and then he remembered that JC was here, so he didn’t have to be the hero any longer. That was JC’s job. With a certain amount of relief, Happy fell back and hid behind Benjamin and Elizabeth, out of harm’s way. Melody moved over to join him. JC took a moment to notice that Lissa was giving Old Tom her full attention although she didn’t seem nearly as affected as everyone else. JC filed that thought away for future reference and stepped forward to face Old Tom.
    “Who are you?” said JC.
    “What are you?” said Happy, from a distance.
    Old Tom stepped out onto the stage, into the bright light. The flesh of his face had sunk in deeply, right back to the bone, becoming desiccated, mummified. The face of some long-forgotten corpse, brought to light at last.Dark lips had drawn back from yellow teeth in a never-ending smile. The only life left in him burned in his eyes, shining brightly from his dead face.
    “I am the unquiet dead,” he said grandly. “The unquiet past, determined to be heard at last.”
    “Damn,” said Benjamin. “He’s one of us! He’s an actor! We’re the only ones who talk like that.”
    “Ah,” said Old Tom. “But not just any actor.”
    “You’ve put on a pretty good show, so far,” said JC. “All the thrills and chills of a ghost train; but no-one was ever in any danger of getting hurt. So what’s really going on here? What’s this all about?”
    “Why don’t the dead lie still in this empty palace of broken dreams?” said Old Tom. He pointed a single skeletal finger at Benjamin and Elizabeth, still huddled together. “Ask them. They know.”
    And then he faded away, melting into thin mists that blew away and were gone. Even though there wasn’t a breath of a breeze, anywhere on the stage. JC, then Happy and Melody, and finally Lissa, turned to look at Benjamin and Elizabeth.
    “It’s time to tell the truth,” said JC, not unkindly.
    “Past time, I’d say,” said Lissa.
    Benjamin and Elizabeth consulted each other silently, with one of their long looks that meant so much, but only to each other. And only then did they both nod briefly, in agreement. They held on to each other’s hands, like lost children comforting each other in a dark forest, and turned to face the Ghost Finders, and Lissa.
    “It’s all my fault,” said Benjamin. “Alistair Gravel didn’t disappear. He didn’t go away. I killed him.”
    “It was an accident!” Elizabeth said immediately. “We were arguing, at the top of the stairs. Raised voices, shouting into each other’s faces, lots of arm-waving. Benjamin shoved Alistair in the chest. And he fell, backwards.”
    “I’d forgotten where we were,” said Benjamin. “And I never meant to shove him that hard. By the time we got to the foot of the stairs, he was dead.”
    “What were you arguing about?” said JC.
    “The play, of course,” said Elizabeth. “The bloody play.”
    “Twenty years ago, we wrote the play for Alistair to star in,” said Benjamin. “It was a good play. I mean, really good. Everybody said so. We all knew it was our best chance for fame and glory, to break out of this very small pond and make real names for ourselves. But, we were having trouble raising funding. Until Frankie Hazzard came forward. Mister big-name movie star. He wanted a starring role in the theatre, to give himself some credibility. Someone sent him a copy of our play, and he wanted in. Wanted to star in it. And with his name attached, suddenly there was no problem getting all the money we needed, and then some.”
    “But Alistair would have none of it,” said Elizabeth. “He refused to be pushed aside and replaced. This was his big chance, too, and he knew it. He said…he’d contributed so much to the play already, in rehearsal, that he’d sue us if we tried to go ahead without him. We did offer to pay him off, but he wasn’t interested. He insisted on his right to play the lead.”
    “We argued,” said Benjamin. “I pushed