"What an extraordinary coincidence." I ran a finger over the yellowed, handwritten label on a dusty box, concluding the abbreviation CHX must stand for En Chaplix.

Matt took the broken piece of what Vic insisted was an oil lamp and inspected it. "What do you mean?"

"Wasn't the En Chaplix cemetery the place where the statue of Triton and the unhappy nymph was found?" The name popped up far too often for me.

"A nereid, not a simple nymph, but you're right." Vic dragged a box from the shelf and blew the dust from the cover. A spider scuttled away, searching for the safety of the crack between two adjacent boxes. The archaeologist ignored it and opened the box to study its content. Over her shoulder, I recognised dozens of pottery shards neatly packed in plastic bags.

Vic picked up a bag, read the label, and placed it back in the box. "I just can't imagine why the discovery site of the lamp fragment would matter. We're talking about a major excavation with tons of finds." She slid the box back and pulled out another. "Hard to know where that isolated piece belongs. We'll have to check in the database."

"Give me the inventory number. I'll run a search." Deborah received the artefact and retreated to the office in the front part of the building, Alex and Chiara trailing her.

Matt touched my arm. "Why do you think there's a connection between such a tiny piece of pottery and that fish-man statue? And what about the ghost? Is she around?"

"I can feel her presence. It's rather faint, but I'm sure it would register in your app, too. But I doubt we'll get to see the famous White Lady at this hour of the day. We will have to come back tonight to continue our investigation." I left the aisle to return to the front of the depot. Vic replaced the box and joined us.

Matt sent me a glance, his brows still raised in question. I searched for the best way to explain my train of thought. If someone could help me solve this puzzle, it was him. "En Chaplix turns up too often in this case to have me believe in a genuine coincidence. But despite coming from the same place, I'm not sure the Triton relief is the important key. Do you remember the paper I picked up yesterday?"

Matt nodded, and Vic hurried to catch up with us, offering a grin. "The one that fell out of the box and I wanted to throw away?"

"Exactly. I studied it yesterday and found an interesting article about the En Chaplix excavation. What caught my eye was the mention of a curse tablet found by the northern memoria, the one with the Triton sculpture. Can you tell me more about that?"

"Hm, I'm not sure... I may have read something about it a while back." Vic led us into the office, where Deborah searched the database. "Deb, do you remember a defixio from the En Chaplix sanctuary?"

"A curse tablet?" The older woman looked up and adjusted her glasses. "Yes, now you mention it—I think it was quite the epigraphic puzzle and threw some waves a while back. But that was before my time here, so I'd have to dig in the library."

"Is it possible that we can see it?" In the meantime, I was sure the thing was a clue to this puzzle.

"Sorry, it's not kept in this depot. The conditions here are not in the range acceptable for storing metals. You would have to check with the conservation department." Deb turned back to the screen and her search.

Vic pulled a face as if she had eaten a raw onion. "Okay, I'll ask Paul when I see him next time."

"I bet he'll know." Deb's smile seemed forced. She pointed at the result of her search. "You were right, Sandrine. This lamp fragment was, in fact, found in the remains of the pavement surrounding the northern memoria of the En Chaplix site. And yes, that's the one with the Triton and Nereid depiction." She stood and placed the shard into a plastic bag, labelling it with a number. "I'll put it back into the right box."

"Thanks, Deb." Vic checked her watch and turned to Chiara, who was busy writing into a thick folder. "I think we should return to the dig. It's our second to last day, and we can't let Béa do the cleanup and final documentation all alone. I fear the girl is worried already."

"Right, let me load my documentation into the car." Chiara closed her folder and picked it up, together with two others and a laptop. "See you two later." She waved at Matt and me and left the building.

Vic stuffed her phone charger and a shawl into her backpack before she slipped into her orange working jacket. "Are you still keen to visit tonight and check for the ghost?"

Matt and I exchanged glances, and he shrugged. "We don't have a real case right now, so we may as well get to the ground of this one. As long as our friend Paul doesn't drop by to spew his venom, I'm in."

Vic winced, but Deborah, coming back from her errand, had overheard him and grinned. "Don't worry, Paul is occupied with the urn over in the conservation department for at least another day. He empties it, which equals a micro-dig in the laboratory. We won't get to see much of the man until he has unravelled all the secrets that glass container offers to a vivid observer."

I could almost hear the thump of the weight falling off Matt's shoulders. "Right, we see you tonight then, Vic. When shall we be here?"

"Midnight, I guess. Isn't this the usual time to go ghost spotting?" The archaeologist seemed confused.

"If ghosts would only be active during the witching hour, most of us living would never meet one." I was always surprised how little thought people spent on this. "You have seen the ghost yesterday evening, right after nightfall, haven't you? And Chiara told us more or less the same. I can feel the lady's spectral presence even now, and it's mid-morning. Doesn't mean we will get to see her, though, as only a very few ghosts are strong enough to manifest in broad daylight. But Matt and I can testify that some are bold and solid enough to walk amongst the living."

Vic shuddered and crossed her arms. Matt reached out to touch her hand, a sad smile on his lips. "Welcome to our world, Vic. But don't worry, if your ghost would be malicious, you wouldn't be here right now."

"That's so reassuring." She punched his arm, the sarcasm in her voice telling me she would be fine. "Sorry, Matt, I still have to get used to this new view of reality. Shall we meet after dinner then, at eight? That gives me time to read up on the defixio in the reference library if you think it's important, San."

"Splendid. I'd appreciate that. And do you mind if we install a few spectral sensors around the place here? Matt has developed a system that will help us track the ghost's movements. Perhaps this will allow us a better insight into her motivation or intention."

"Sure, I bet Alex won't mind helping you."

Alex, who was busy registering the content of a stack of boxes with a barcode scanner, looked up at the mention of his name. "What do you want me to do?"

"We'll just need a ladder and perhaps a few screws to install the sensors, if you don't mind." Matt pointed at the high ceiling. "Up there would be best, or we distribute them along the walls and on top of a few shelves."

The worker ran a hand through his shock of dark hair and raised his brows. "You're serious? You really plan to do something about the ghost? It's been ages since we told the management about the haunting and get laughed at."

"As serious as possible." Matt smiled. "Do you know how long this ghost has been around?"

Alex rubbed his chin. "When I took over from my predecessor, he informed me about the White Lady. I laughed—of course, who wouldn't when he's told his new working place is haunted by a beautiful girl in white? As pranks go, it seemed a rather harmless one."

"Depends on you mental constitution, I guess." Deborah slung her arms around herself. "I find it rather cruel."

"Not as cruel as other stuff I've witnessed over the years." Alex shrugged, but didn't find time to elaborate.

Chiara leaned in the door. "Are you coming, Vic? I thought we have a job to do."

"On my way. I trust you folks don't need me here—see you tonight, eight sharp." She hustled towards the door, then turned back to snatch her car keys from the desk and stormed away, shaking the head about her own clumsiness.

Alex chuckled. "I bet seeing the ghost has been a shock to her rational self. And I must admit it got to me too, twelve years ago. The White Lady appeared to me for the first time only two weeks after old Tony left to enjoy his fishing and reading. I can't imagine how long she has been hanging out here. Perhaps since the building was transformed into a depot—or even before."

Or since the En Chaplix excavation. But I didn't mention my suspicion. First, I wanted to learn more about the ghost. To judge by Matt's expressionless face, he hoarded similar thoughts.