Pop Goes the Weasel by Osborne Stephen

Author:Osborne, Stephen [Osborne, Stephen]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Dreamspinner Press
Published: 2012-08-08T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

I DON’T know if you’ve ever entered someone’s bedroom at two o’clock in the morning dressed as the ghost of a lady in gray with the intention of rifling through their briefcase. Probably not, I’m guessing. It’s not something I recommend. My heart was thudding loudly in my chest as I padded down the hall on my tiptoes, and by the time I got to Freeman’s door, it was pounding so loudly that Poe’s telltale heart would have called it a show-off.

I paused at Freeman’s door, my hand on the knob, to muster up the courage to actually turn the damned thing. I looked up and down the hall. Everything was quiet. There wasn’t even any wind outside to rattle the window at the end of the hall. Slowly, I twisted the knob. It squeaked once but otherwise behaved itself. I pushed the door open.

There was enough light in the room, once my eyes had adjusted, to make out the bed and other furnishings, at least as big blobby things. On the bed was a huddled form. The form was snorting and mumbling occasionally. Freeman was indeed asleep. I crept over to the desk. On the top, sure enough, was a briefcase. Luckily it was already opened, so I didn’t have to worry if it was locked. I shuffled through his collection of papers until I located a small notebook. I also snatched up one of his pens. I set these down in order to get to the box of matches I’d tucked into the waistband of Charlotte’s skirt. Lighting a match, I quickly scanned the notebook.

It took three matches, but I finally found the safe combination. I used the pen and wrote it down on the back of my hand. The third match was beginning to burn out, so I dropped it and lit another. I had the combination but wanted to ensure it was legible.

The scratch of this match against the side of the box seemed to me to be louder than the others. I don’t know if it really was significantly louder, but it did cause Freeman to let out a small cry, and he suddenly sat up in bed.

“What?” he called out, obviously disoriented. “What’s going on? Who’s that?”

I froze for a moment, not even daring to breathe. When he repeated his last question loudly enough to set off avalanches in Switzerland, I knew I couldn’t just stand there like a statue, so I quickly blew out the match and turned to him.

“Oooooo-wooooooo,” I moaned, trying to sound ghostly. I raised my arms and let them flutter a bit, hoping that added to the effect.

I could see his eyes grow wide. “Holy shit!” he exclaimed. His mouth fell open. “She really does exist!”

I made more “ooooo-woooo” sounds and surreptitiously dropped the pen onto the desk before beginning to make my way to the door. I was nearly there when he found the switch to a bedside lamp and turned it on. The room lit up and I let out a little yelp.

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