In the parlor of Imogene Havisham the clock struck twelve. A strange coterie of men and woman sat on baited breath as the widow wept profusely in nervous anxiety.

 

At the center a young man barely twenty glared out at them, crossing his arms in judgment of the not-so-august assembly.

He announced to the increasingly perterbed crowd, “I have called you all here to inform you of the findings of my investigation. As you all have been persons of interest you will all witness what goes on here tonight. It is as Miss Betsy has suggested. There is an imposter amoung you. There is no ghost! It is all a hoax.”

The assembly began to chatter.

“Hoax.” The Lieutenant gasped.
”I do not believe it!” Said the Butler.
”It is true. Mr Valliant is right.”

“Silence.” The young man tapped his cane against the ground “There is no need for such an outburst.”