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replied.
    â€˜But that’s impossible. Ghosts can’t sleep.’
    Mrs Pringle placed a finger at the point she was up to in her book and looked up. ‘You’d be surprised by the lengths some people will go to to avoid signing a batch of New Resident Allocation documents.’ In spite of the fact that she shouted this, her words apparently went unheard by the general.
    â€˜Should I come back later?’ asked Lapsewood.
    â€˜I’d give him a nudge if I were you.’
    Lapsewood stepped inside the room.
    â€˜And close the door,’ added Mrs Pringle.
    Lapsewood pulled the door to, hoping the sound would rouse him, but the general continued to snore. He coughed. Nothing. ‘Ah-hem,’ he said. Still no movement.
    Lapsewood went around the back of the desk and, ever so slowly, nudged one of the general’s supporting elbows and then quickly darted back to the other side. The general sat up with a start. ‘What? Why the . . . who are you?’
    â€˜Lapsewood, sir,’ he said. ‘Dispatches. Colonel Penhaligan sent me.’
    â€˜Pen-hal-igan?’ he repeated, in a pronounced accent that Lapsewood vaguely placed as coming from somewhere in the southern states of America. ‘Oh yeah. Penhaligan.’ He looked at Lapsewood. ‘Oh, are you sure he sent you?’
    â€˜Positive, sir.’
    â€˜Well, you won’t do at all. Not at all, son.’
    â€˜Penhaligan never had any complaints about my work, sir.’
    â€˜Why did he send you here, then?’
    Lapsewood didn’t respond.
    â€˜What we have here,’ continued General Colt, ‘if I’m not very much mistaken, is a fob off, and I don’t care for being fobbed off. You trying to fob me off, boy?’
    â€˜No, sir.’
    General Colt stood up, walked around in a small circle and sat back down.
    â€˜Perhaps if you could let me know the nature of the work I might be able to assist,’ said Lapsewood.
    â€˜The nature of the work, as you put it, is that I need someone with haunting experience, someone with a brain, som­eone with legitimate contacts in the living world and a current polter-licence.’
    â€˜You mean a Prowler, sir?’
    â€˜Exactly, and just looking at you I’d be willing to bet that you haven’t so much as stepped out of this building since the day you died. Am I right? Don’t answer that. I know I’m right.’
    â€˜My work has been mostly office-bound until this point, but—’
    â€˜Don’t give me any flannel,’ interrupted the furious general. ‘You’re about as useful as a three-legged horse.’
    Lapsewood wondered whether a three-legged horse was better or worse than a donkey.
    General Colt pulled out a large silver gun from his holster. ‘I’d have you put down if you weren’t already dead.’
    Worse, thought Lapsewood. Definitely worse.
    General Colt aimed and pulled the trigger. There was a loud bang.
    â€˜No firearms!’ screamed Mrs Pringle from the other side of the door.
    â€˜Old witch,’ muttered General Colt.
    Lapsewood wondered whether the general would have shot him if he thought it would have done any harm. He feared he would. Perhaps he should have taken Colonel Penhaligan’s first offer to resolve his unfinished business. But, quite aside from the fear of stepping through the Unseen Door into whatever lay on the other side, Lapsewood hadn’t the faintest idea what could be left unfinished in his wholly unremarkable life.
    â€˜I can do it,’ he said in a shaky voice.
    â€˜What was that, boy?’ demanded General Colt.
    â€˜I can do it, whatever it is you need doing. I’m sure I can do it. What I lack in experience I make up for in determination and initiative.’
    General Colt laughed and holstered his gun. ‘You got guts, boy. I’ll give you that.’ He removed his hat, placing it on the table, and Lapsewood’s