Candice was waiting in an open entrance at the end of the corridor, tapping her foot. She had turned on the overhead lights; white, bright, and cold they would spook even the most daring spectre.

"So, what's up, girl?" Amelie's no-nonsense tromp reverberated in the hallway as she joined the slim figure by the door. She stopped and peeked past Candice's shoulder. "Can't see anything."

"Well, duh. It's dark outside. Haven't figured yet out how to switch on the lights in the backyard."

"And why would you feel the urge to do so? We're talking freestyle ghosts. They don't hang out in boring back alleys."

A good point. I ran my scanner over the walls, the floor. It bleeped and spiked. Yup, the signature was there, running along the ratty linoleum that had seen better days, all the way to the door and beyond.

"Let me guess," I said. "The signature peters out in a rubbish bin or something."

"Nope," Candice said. "See for yourself. You need to switch spectrum modes though, otherwise you won't notice."

I switched modes. Squeezed past Amelie and saw for myself the slimy green snake's trail, steaming in a black void: the ghost's signature smeared across the small screen.

"Oh, it's like that, is it?" I said. I pointed my Maglite into the yard, shifted it from left to right, from the discarded pallets along the wooden fence to the bins and back again. Then, the glaring halo came to rest on the fence.

"I wonder what's next door."

"All-Seasons Landscape Gardening," said Candice. "They're not paying us."

"Borgia is. He wants the haunting to stop. If we know where these translucent blighters hail from, we can work out how much extra to charge."

"Girl, we haven't got the right equipment," Amelie said.

"Yes, we do. I brought the new portable units."

"No way," she said. "They weigh a ton."

I couldn't help the grin. "I brought your trainers as well."

Her pencilled brows arched. "Oh, lookie here, somebody came prepared."

"I expected something like this. It's been happening a lot recently. If you two read the Union bulletins once in a while..."

Candice sighed. "You're a smartass, Sandra, you know that?"

"Of course. Emphasis on smart. That's why I made partner, remember? You needed a geek, and there I was."

"Geek off, smartypants." Candice's laughing eyes belied her words. She swung around and marched back down the hallway.

I stuck my head back in. "Ey, and pack the four-dimensional scanner away, will you? It cost a bomb."

"Yes, massa." She disappeared into Borgia's delicious workroom.

Amelie had found the switch that turned on the lights in the backyard. Not that this changed much. One dingy yard, filled with rubbish, boxed in on all sides by concrete walls. One wooden fence straight ahead. As wooden fences came, this was nothing out of the ordinary. Midges danced through the yard. They had fallen into instant love with the orange light seeping from the lamps and bobbed around with insect glee. The night was chilled by the onset of autumn, but midges would probably live through a blizzard.

"What is going on? I mean, seriously. This isn't normal ghost behaviour."

I shrugged. "Seriously? Search me. Perhaps, they have all decided to go on a grand tour."

Amelie grunted and scanned the trail, just like I had done, pointing her scanner at some shrubs beyond.

She groaned. "I knew it. It goes across into the garden centre. How am I supposed to climb that?" She pointed at the offending fence.

"You could wait at the front entrance? I'd bet my grandmother's frilly apron, this isn't our final port of call."

"Did I tell you recently how much I love you, girl?"

Candice chose that moment to return with our stuff, one pack on her back, two cradled in her arms like overweight toddlers swaddled in neon, and Amelie's trainers dangling from her right hand.

She dropped the shoes; with a flump, they landed on the ground.

"Did you—"

"No, I didn't have the time to pack your beloved machine. We're only going for a short recce. Might need it afterwards."

"Mph. If you say so. Oh, we've decided to split up. You and I check out All-Seasons. Amelie will wait outside."

"Nah, you two have fun with the shrubbery," said Amelie. "I'm going to take a gander at what's next door."

Next door was Laundrette 24/7, its attendant asleep in his cubicle, bearded face on a book, drool pooling on its cover. I knew because Candice and I arrived through the back door, slightly out of breath and reeking of manure.

We were greeted by Amelie; as chill as a cucumber, she raised her flexible brow. "Heya. What have you two been up to?"

"The spooky creeps are doing this on purpose," Candice said. "The trail crossed the compost heap."

I said nothing, instead I washed my grimy hands in the nearest sink. My trainers looked a fright. Blast, they were new.

The grin on Amelie's face got even smugger. "I located the trail. There was absolutely no need for you to dig around in the soil."

I wadded the grimy towel.

"And?"

"Shht." She pointed at the sleeping guard, her face suddenly serious. "This is getting rather weird. I wonder whether the scanners are malfunctioning. The trail is as strong as it was in the beginning."

Huh? Perhaps, I should have checked, but then I had been busy avoiding seedlings and stumbling over hose pipes.

I checked now. Amelie was right.

"That's not possible. The ectoplasm rubs off and eventually it peters out. Even the rookiest ghostbuster knows that."

"Unless our intrepid wraiths brought spare supplies?" Candice suggested.

"How?" Amelie and I said simultaneously. "They're made of the stuff. They can't carry it."

The guard in his cubicle snorted and smacked his lips. He mumbled something unintelligible.

For a short while, we chanelled ice statues, but he never woke up.

"We'd better get a move on," I said. "Uh, move on where?"

"Follow me," Amelie said. "I show you."

***

"For the records," Amelie said. "I'm not going down there. My well-nurtured curves will get stuck in the opening and block the access."

"Down there" was a circular hole in the ground of the dryer room, the heavy metal lid shoved to one side, iron steps leading into a gloomy, dank darkness from where a faint glugging issued. Together with a rather rank reek.

Overhead, the strip lighting flickered and hissed.

All in all, very atmospheric.

"Go last," Candice said. "Then, you're not blocking anything."

She and I were consulting a map of the local sewer system glowing on her tablet. Candice tapped her well-manicured finger on the spaghetti knot of canals worming their way through London's underground.

"We won't be able to trace them once they go over water, you know that?" she said. "Even if we bring a dinghy."

Amelie poked her head over her shoulder, filling my nose with her violet and cinnamon scent. "I totally agree. I also suggest we call it a day. Or rather: a night. This is going nowhere."

"You do realise, both of you, if we abort the mission here, we won't get paid?"

Candice's greenish eyes glittered. "Okay, how about a compromise. We fetch the blasters and do a little recce in the sewage system. Maybe we get enough data to work out what these buggers are up to."

"Am I now supposed to lug around a blaster on top of this?" Amelie wriggled her shoulders and with it, her pink pack.

"You can go without if you prefer that," I said. "Or wait for us."

"Nah. Can't leave you two alone. Need to know what you're up to. Plus, this might be a trap."

"I'm pretty sure it is," Candice said.

The same thought had occurred to me. But that was downright stupid. "So am I. Trouble is, what are they trying to achieve? The last time I checked, I was still on the other side of the big divide. We're supposed to be safe."

Amelie waggled her head. "Mobile ghosts, girls. That's bad enough. The ectoplasm doesn't fade away as it should. So, why not lay traps as well? Next thing, they're going to ask for voting rights."

"Scary. How about if we get ourselves some backup," I said.

"Makes sense," Candice said

Amelie rolled her expressive eyes. "Who you're gonna call?"

"No idea," I said. "Spooks Unlimited Ltd., maybe? They're reasonable, they won't want to snag half our profit."

Candice waggled her finger. "No way. Cal's an absolute asshat. I don't need mucho macho males involved. Let's try The Four Ghoulies."

"Do I know them?" Amelie asked. "Oh, hang on, yes. Eh, didn't they vanish last month?"

"Vanish?" I asked.

"Well, they went on a mission and didn't return. At least, I think that's what I read."

We stared at the hole in the ground.

"They didn't work for Borgia, did they?" I asked.

"Not to the best of my knowledge," Candice said. "Thinking about it, we won't get anyone in a hurry, at least not somebody we can trust. The good ones will all be busy at night."

"So, girl, you're saying we should climb down into the sewer, never to be seen again."

"No," Candice said with exaggerated patience. "What I'm saying is we climb down into the sewer, have a look-see, and not fall into any traps."

"Nice one," I said. "Let's just hope we spot the trap when we see it. Okay, who goes first?"

Two pairs of eyes swiveled at me. Candice snorted.

"Yeah, right. I hear you. Loud and clear." I knelt and lowered by foot onto a rung every bit as slippery and slimy as I had expected. Took two steps down and grabbed the rung with my hands. This time, I had put on the gloves, but the manure in All- Seasons had been nothing compared to the sludge that coated every single rung on the ladder.

There also were way too many of them, but eventually my probing foot hit solid ground and I jumped off the ladder.

Bad idea.

I slipped, windmilled my arms, my body unbalanced through the heavy pack on my back, made even more unwieldy through the violin case with the blaster.

Somehow, I managed to stay on my feet.

"Rats." My voice echoed weirdly into the tunnels. "Be careful, this place is super sludgy."

"You saw them?" Amelie hollered down. Her body was a dense mass, obliterating whatever light remained above.

"Saw what? I haven't checked for ghosts yet."

"You mentioned rodents just now."

"Oh, just swearing. Never mind me. Get a move on, we haven't got all night."

"Hah." With a grunt and a heavy clank, she was on her way.

I turned up the beam on my headlamp. The tunnel was built of brick and rounded. At both ends, it swallowed the light, but not the sound. Glugging, dripping, and trickling seemed to come from everywhere.

Which was weird, given the distinct lack of water under the soles of my trainers. Well, had there been any, they would have been soaked. Not the ideal gear for hiking around in the city's Victorian underbelly. But then, that sort of activity hadn't been on the agenda for tonight. The tunnel I found myself in, had to be some side canal, now run dry. Somewhere, at either end, it would join one of the main tunnels, at least according to Candice's map. There had been a lot of dashed lines around in the area. Which either meant people didn't know what was there. Or it had been there and was no longer.

A faint rumble sounded from afar, a rolling and rattling.

Then it was quiet again.

Plop.

I swung around. Amelie had landed.

"Did you hear the underground just now?"

"I heard something, didn't realise it was the tube."

With a rapid clanking, Candice flitted down the rungs and joined us. "Hey girls, fancy a party?"

"Don't like the drinks they serve." I wrinkled my nose at the mouldy, rotten reek, boosted with a touch of Eau de Merde. "Right. Let me find out which way we need to go."

I pulled my scanner and pointed it at the walls. Sure enough, there was the trail, as strong as ever.

It pointed North, and North was where we went.

(5867 words)

This chapter is dedicated to my friend @elveloy whose great novel "The clockmaker's shadow is another example for the fantastic variety of stories that appear during ONC