There were many strange goings-on at the stately home of Lady Ethel Crabtree. One night, the picture of the late Lord Arthur Crabtree was hanging in its rightful place on the wall; next morning it was lying, shattered, on the floor. Earlier on a vase had risen and floated before Lady Crabtree and then fallen to the floor and smashed to fragments.

After a series of similar events, Lady Crabtree was quite mystified and fed up. She talked to her butler, Wetley.

‘Wetley, we have a poltergeist. We shall have to call that detective, Cedric Biggs’.

Cedric Biggs was reading the daily newspaper. The telephone rang. Biggs called to his assistant, James, who was in the coal cellar. ‘I wish you wouldn’t call at such an inconvenient time’, said he.

‘Never mind that, answer the phone’, Biggs replied. James lifted the receiver.

‘Hullo?’

‘Hullo’, said a voice in the earpiece, 'My name is Ethel Crabtree--Lady Ethel Crabtree. I believe my house has a poltergeist!’

‘We aren’t ghost hunters', said James, 'we’re very....’ he stopped short as Biggs interrupted.

‘Suddenly, we are! Tell ’em we’ll tackle their ghost problem.’

‘Oh, all right, give us full details...’

Later, Biggs and Lady Crabtree were talking. Suddenly, without warning, a candlestick flew off the mantlepiece and hit Biggs, knocking him out. It then fell to the floor.

‘Quick, water!’ said James. He need not have bothered, for next second, a glass of water rose from the sink and s-p-l-a-s-h!

‘Ooh crumbs! What hit me?’ groaned the unfortunate victim.

‘A candlestick’, said James and Lady Crabtree in unison.

‘It was the poltergeist, for sure’, went on Lady Crabtree.

‘There’s something on my nose--what? It’s a fine wire!’ exclaimed Biggs. ‘It’s all done with wires! Lady Crabtree, you’ve no poltergeist. Homewreckers, yes; poltergeists no! There are wires attached to the candlestick--let’s follow them.’ After a hectic search, they found that all the wires led through a hole in the wall.

The wall connected the ancient mansion to a modern prefab.

Biggs knocked on the door. It was opened by a fat man.

‘Hello, I believe a poltergeist lives here,’ said Biggs.

‘I ain’t Pol-Tar-Guys, or what-yer-called-’im. I’m Fred O’Reilly’ said the man.

‘Oh, really?’ said James.

‘Nah--O’Reilly! Come in, if you like,’ he replied.

Biggs made for a door.

‘Not there, it’s private!’ said O’Reilly.

Biggs thrust open the door. Sure enough, there were thousands of wires and cords.

‘All right, O’Reilly. You wanted to wreck Lady Crabtree by ruining her house and home. You lay wires and smash pictures by night, then by day, you pull cords and see how you're getting on through a hole in the wall,’ was Biggs’ deduction.

O’Reilly ran for the exit.

‘Stop him!’ shouted Biggs. James ran after him and got him in a flying rugby tackle. Next second, O'Reilly was down!

‘However did you do it?’ asked Biggs.

‘I was always good at rugger!’ said James.

Lee Mendham 1C