“Okay,” Kasey says. “This is actually a solid amount of information to work with.”

We stand over the table in the archives, looking down at everything spread out across its surface. Unlike William Clarke, Joseph Starr and Richard Newman were men of privilege and wealth. They made a way bigger impact on the historical record than our dead friend from the beat crew. The one photograph, the forged incident report, the letter, and the watch, that’s all we have of William. These guys, on the other hand…

We have newspaper clippings, letters, contracts, business records, photos - a lot more stuff. We’ve spent the last forty minutes combing through everything in silence, only stopping to exchange papers with each other, or when I need to turn a page for Kasey.

I have a much more complete understanding of Starr and Newman than I do of William by the time we’re done, even if I’m not sure how all the pieces fit together quite yet.

“Where do we start with trying to boil this all down into something helpful?” I ask, as Aiden sets down the sheaf of papers he was going through. Most of the materials are too faded and old to read, but thankfully they’ve been cataloged, which means that printed, typed-out transcripts of the legible text are filed away with them.

“That sounds like a question for Kasey,” Aiden answers. “She has a Ph.D., right? Isn’t that whole experience basically boiling down a lot of information into something helpful?”

“I’m thinking,” Kasey says, her eyes narrowed. She leans over the table, her palms pressed against its surface. I’ve seen this look on her face before, whenever she was working on a difficult bit of her research. She used to come over to my apartment, tuck herself into an armchair with her laptop and a towering stack of books, and then wear this expression for hours, looking up every now and then to read me some interesting historical fact. My heart twists. I miss that.

I don’t have the words to describe how glad I am to still have Kasey here, even in her ghost form. I guess I have Aiden to thank for that. I look over at him affectionately. I’m so lucky, all things considered. I have my two best friends here with me, against all odds. I need to show someone a little love right now, or I’m going to burst.

Kasey is still busy thinking, so I use the momentary pause to sneakily trace a finger down Aiden’s spine, give his lower back a little tickle through his dress shirt. He throws a warm look at me over his shoulder, quickly breaking into one of those open smiles I’m coming to know so well. It’s so new, getting to touch him like this, and even these fast, stolen moments make my heart zip happily around my chest.

I’m also pretty sure that there would be some tickle-retaliation if he weren’t still wearing his archivist gloves.

“I think I’ve got something,” Kasey says, and I blink, remembering where we are. “Will you - uh, translate, I guess, Jamie?”

“Sure. Kasey’s got something, Aiden.”

“Let’s start with Joseph Starr.” She points to a faded newspaper. “An extremely wealthy man. Based on this clipping, he started from nothing and made himself a ton of money.” I do my best to repeat everything she says to Aiden while actually processing the information myself. “Starr began as a sailor, but eventually came to operate a phenomenally successful overseas trade company - pretty unusual, at that time. He must have been a very smart guy. By all accounts, also very honest and trustworthy.” Kasey turns to point at a stack of business papers. “He began investing in other industries, including fur and timber. Bought a majority stake in the Newman & Starr timber company, which is why his name is on it, but he was not directly involved in the operations. That job fell to the founder, who was…”

“Richard Newman,” I put in.

“Yes. Basically the opposite kind of man in every respect, it seems like.” Kasey turns to the area where we laid out the materials concerning Richard. “He inherited a fortune and managed to squander the bulk of it within a few years of his father passing away. Got himself in legal trouble a few times, and then eventually used the last of his money to begin the Newman & Starr timber company, with a healthy infusion of cash from Joseph Starr.”

“Why would a smart guy like Joseph Starr invest in a company run by Richard Newman?” Aiden asks, his brow furrowed. “I wouldn’t put my money on him, based on these articles. Not that I have any.”

“Maybe he was more interested in Ketterbridge than he was in Richard Newman?” I suggest. “You’ve seen the forests we have around here, and that’s after these guys took the chop to half of it.”

“Yes, based on this letter that Starr sent to Newman…” Kasey points to it, and so do I, and Aiden uses a gloved hand to lift it closer to the light. “It looks like he was drawn to the natural wealth of the area, and it would have been easier for him to join a company that already existed, rather than try to start his own. Especially since he was busy operating his own empire by that point. Plus, Newman promises to expand the operation significantly…” She stops, her eyes lingering on a line from the letter. “Look what Starr says at the bottom of this note.”

Should I agree to this endeavor, I must insist that we do things my way.

“My way,” I repeat. “What does he mean by that?”

“I think I have a guess.” Aiden turns to his laptop and opens the list of files we lowkey stole from the FIC. He scrolls through the documents and stops on a page with a long list of names and numbers. “Payroll records,” he says, jabbing a finger at the screen. Kasey leans in to take a look.

“These are unusually decent wages for this time period,” she observes. “And - look, there are payments made to people who were injured on the job. Also very unusual.”

“Joseph Starr is the one who signed off on this page,” Aiden explains, and Kasey turns, her hand floating over the documents spread out on the desk.

“I’ll bet that Joseph Starr’s reputation was part of what Newman was buying when he brought him into the company. All of the paperwork indicates that Starr was known for being honest, taking decent care of his employees… probably because he started out in their position, himself. He had a stellar reputation, he was by the book, he took a personal interest in the wellbeing of his workers…”

“And he provided the bulk of the money,” I add, realizing as I speak, “So - if Richard Newman got William killed doing something illegal or unsafe… Starr might have pulled his investment, if he found out!”

Kasey slams a hand down onto the table. It makes no noise, moves nothing.

“Richard Newman wasn’t trying to hide the facts of William’s death from the authorities or the public, he was trying to hide it all from Joseph Starr,” she says, her eyes flashing triumphantly. “The Newman & Starr Company was the last thing Newman had, he’d lost all of his father’s money, and if Starr pulled out, that could have folded the entire business, right then and there.”

“Would Starr really pull his investment because one employee died, though?” Aiden asks, when I finish translating. “There must be something else.”

“Maybe whatever Newman had William doing was something really bad?” I suggest. “Or something really against Starr’s values?”

“Aiden, is there a way to do a keyword search through those documents on your laptop?” Kasey asks, and I repeat the question to him.

“Yeah.”

“Can you see if there’s anything else in there from the specific year that William died?”

Aiden types in William’s year of death: 1822.

“Let me see… there are some contracts. Acquisition agreements from families who owned land in Ketterbridge. Looks like the Newman & Starr Company bought several big plots of land from a few local families. Presumably for the expansions that Newman promised. The contracts were all signed after William died, though, and I don’t see anything unusual about them.” He frowns at the laptop. “Have we hit a dead end?”

“Hey, at least now we know why William’s death was covered up,” I answer. “That’s something.”

“Wait a minute.” Kasey steps through Aiden to peer at the laptop. “That’s weird. This is what the company paid, for all that land? That’s nothing, even for that time, even when you adjust for the currency change. If that land was rich in natural resources that the company really needed, it would be far more valuable than this. It says there’s related correspondence, can you go to the next page, Aiden?”

Rather than repeating the request, I press the arrow key on his computer, flipping us to the next page. It’s a letter in wobbly, unsteady handwriting, riddled with spelling errors, politely rejecting Newman & Starr’s offer.

“They rejected the offer, but the Newman & Starr Company still got the land? And for the exact price they wanted?” Kasey frowns. “What’s the date on this rejection letter the landowners sent?”

“Let’s see…” Aiden pauses, surprised. “One week before William’s death.”

Kasey stops, and I can tell that she’s thinking furiously.

“Newman promised Starr that he would expand the company,” she says slowly. “He needed the land, and the owners wouldn’t sell. A week later, William dies doing something shady for the company, at night. After that, the landowners change their minds and make the sale.” I can almost see the wheels turning in her head. “You know what I would do, if I was a shady 1800s-era creep desperate to buy land from people who wouldn’t sell? I’d round up my biggest, burliest guys, throw them some extra cash, and send them over there at night to send a message to the landowners.”

“Like… a ‘cooperate or else’ kind of message?” I ask, a slight chill running down my spine.

“It makes sense,” Aiden realizes. He runs a hand through his hair, his eyes wide. “The beat crew guys, they would have been used to dangerous situations, they’d all have some muscle, and they were the company grunts, so none of them would ever have occasion to speak directly to Joseph Starr. I’ll bet all of them were hard up for money, too.”

“Something must have gone wrong,” I add, “And William ended up in the river. We assumed that the incident report was correct about him getting crushed and drowned, but if they lied about everything else... Maybe he was like, killed in the scuffle, and the rest of the beat crew guys tossed his body in the river to make it look like they hadn’t been…?”

“Too little information to speculate on that part,” Aiden says, and Kasey nods.

“Agreed,” she murmurs, “But, I suspect we’re right about what William was doing, and why his death was covered up.”

Her face suddenly crumples, and her shoulders slump.

“Kase-face?” I reach for her arm, but she must not be feeling totally here at the moment, because my hand moves right through her. “Are you okay? What’s wrong?”

“Is this the kind of guy that William was?” she asks quietly, her eyes clouding. “Sneaking around at night to threaten and scare innocent people off their land so that some corporation could gobble it up and deforest it?”

“Not necessarily,” I answer, and Kasey turns away. “Hang on, babe - this was like, two hundred years ago. Everything was different back then, you know that better than any of us. Plus, we don’t know why he did it, maybe he really needed the money for something important… it was like a totally different time-”

“I hate that saying, it was a different time,” Kasey says, scowling. “Like, yes, but also, you still should have a soul, and a conscience. People use that as a blanket excuse for everything.”

Aiden gives me a questioning look.

“She’s not thrilled to hear that this is the kind of thing William got up to in his lifetime,” I tell him. He leans a hand on the table, a sympathetic look crossing his face.

“Let’s get William back,” he says, in Kasey’s approximate direction, “And give him a chance to tell us his side of things, before we decide he was a bad guy. Trust me, I…” He clears his throat. “We’ve all done things that we regret, right? Everyone deserves a chance to explain themselves.”

Kasey sinks into thoughtful silence for a moment.

“Okay. Fine. Does this information help us, in terms of getting him corporeal?”

“Any information about him is helpful,” Aiden answers, after I repeat the question. “I’ve never tried to make a ghost corporeal before, but the more I know, the easier it will be for me to reach him. It always helps to know what you’re looking for.” He pulls the gold watch out of his pocket and sets it down on the table. “Physical things help, too, but all of this is good. Nice work, Kasey.”

“Thanks. I just…” She lets out a deep sigh, hugging herself. “I would feel really stupid and... so disappointed if I turned out to be so totally wrong about who he is.”

I open my mouth to say something, and the pocket watch moves.

~~~~

All of us fall silent, staring. The watch trembles for a second, knocking against the table noisily. It slides about an inch closer to Kasey, where it stops, immobile again, all innocent, like it didn’t just break all the rules of everything.

“Um,” I manage.

“What-?” Kasey begins.

“Holy shit,” Aiden sputters. “We all saw that, right?”

“Was that you, Aiden?” I ask, and he holds his hands up.

“No, honestly, no.”

Another moment of silence follows, everyone staring at the watch, waiting to see if it will move again. It does not. I haltingly reach out a finger and touch the gold backing.

“It’s warm,” I tell the group, and Aiden lets out a held breath. Kasey’s mouth is still hanging open. “Kasey, has this ever happened before?”

“No,” she says, wide-eyed. “No, never. Only the warmth.” A realization unfolds on her face. “Oh my god, he’s here! Right now!” Her eyes search the room hopelessly. “William?”

“William, hey, buddy!” I chime in. “We’re glad you’re here, and we’re super excited to actually meet you. Could you do us a favor and move the watch again, please?”

“We’re here to help,” Aiden adds.

“He knows that, I told him!” Kasey says, flapping her hands in frustration. “He probably can’t do it again so quickly. He’ll only make the warmth happen once per day, at most. I think there might be some sort of like - limit, on how much he can do. I ask, and he makes the warmth, but then sometimes he won’t do it again for days after. It's like he needs to recharge, or something."

Aiden runs a hand down his face, a little stunned, after I tell him what she said.

“Hang on, Kasey - does he usually make you warm after you ask him to?”

“Well - yeah.”

“Interesting.” Aiden chews his lip, deep in thought. “You’ve told him what we’re trying to do here, and he can definitely hear you, otherwise he wouldn’t make you warm when you ask. That means, he definitely knows about the hunt, and he’s trying to get our attention… You guys - I think he’s actively trying to help us.”

There’s a silence, and then Kasey finally smiles again.

“Looks like we’ve got two ghosts on the team now,” she says.