Page 75 of The Shape of Night

“No, we’ve got one of those.” Evan points to a meter on the floor. “We’ve also set up a camera in the downstairs hallway and another one in the master bedroom.”

“Why the master bedroom?” asks Ben.

“Because the ghost’s appeared there a few times. That’s what we’ve been told.”

Ben looks at me and I flush. “I’ve seen him there once or twice,” I admit.

“But this turret seems to be ground zero for paranormal activity,” says Maeve. “It’s where Kim had the strongest reaction, so we’re going to focus our attention on this room.” She glances at her watch. “Okay, it’s time to turn off all the lights. Settle in, everybody. This is going to be a very long night.”

—

By twoA.M., we’ve devoured all the ham sandwiches and boiled eggs, and I’ve refilled the thermoses with coffee four times. Ghost-hunting, I have discovered, is a thoroughly boring business. For hours we’ve been sitting in the semidarkness, waiting for something, anything, to happen. Maeve’s team, at least, manages to stay busy monitoring their instruments, jotting notes, and repeatedly changing batteries.

The ghost has yet to make an appearance.

Maeve calls out, once again, to the darkness: “Hello, we want to speak to you! Who are you? Tell us your name.”

The glowing red light on the tape recorder tells me it is continuously recording, but I can hear nothing. No ghostly voice answers Maeve’s request, no ectoplasmic mist materializes. Here we are, with thousands of dollars’ worth of electronic equipment, waiting for Captain Brodie to respond, and of course tonight is the night he does not cooperate.

Another hour passes, and I grow so sleepy I can barely keep my eyes open. As I nod off against Ben’s shoulder, he whispers: “Hey, why don’t you go to bed?”

“I don’t want to miss anything.”

“The only thing you’re going to miss is a good night’s sleep. I’ll stay up and watch.”

He helps me stand up and I’m so stiff from sitting on the floor, I can barely rise to my feet. Through bleary eyes I make out the silhouettes of Maeve and Todd and Evan huddled in the gloom. While they may be patient enough to wait up all night in the dark, I’ve had more than enough.

I feel my way down the turret staircase, to my bedroom. I don’t even bother to undress. I just pull off my shoes, flop down on the bed, and sink into a deep and dreamless sleep.

I wake up to theclackof tripod legs snapping together. Sunlight shines in the window and through squinting eyes I see Todd crouched in the corner, stuffing a camera lens into an aluminum case. Ben stands in the doorway, a cup of coffee in hand.

“What time is it?” I ask them.

“It’s after nine,” Ben says. “They’re about to leave.” He sets a steaming mug on my nightstand. “I thought I’d bring you coffee before I take off, too.”

I sit up, yawning, and watch as Todd sets the camera into his case. “I forgot there was a camera in my room.”

Todd laughs. “We probably recorded six riveting hours of you sleeping in bed.”

“What happened in the turret last night?”

“We still need to review the footage. Maeve will get back to you with a full report.” Todd snaps his case shut and stands up to leave. “Something may turn up on video. We’ll let you know.”

Ben and I don’t say a word as Todd heads downstairs. We hear the front door thump shut.

“Were you up with them all night?” I ask.

“I was. All night.”

“And what happened?”

Ben shakes his head. “Absolutely nothing.”

—

After Ben leaves, I haul myself out of bed and splash cold water on my face. What I really want to do is climb back into bed and sleep for the rest of the day, but I can hear Hannibal yowling downstairs, so I make my way down to the kitchen, where I find him glaring at me through the bars of his crate. The heaping mound of kitty chow I left for him last night is all gone, of course. It’s too soon to feed him again, so I carry him to the front door and release him outside. Off he goes, a tiger-striped tub of lard waddling away into the garden.

“Get some exercise, why don’t you?” I tell him and close the door.

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