Kate and Drew ‘ran’ through the house calling out Lewis’ and Oswald’s names as they went looking through every room, quite literally. They stood still for a few moments, Drew trying to catch his breath, while Kate continued to shout their names.
          "They can’t hear you."
          Both Kate and Drew jumped and turned to be faced with Chesterfield, still in his smoking jacket, now smoking a cigar and holding a small silver bell in one hand.
          "The glass is soundproof." He stopped to blow a smoke ring, "Now things start to get interesting." A smarmy, game show host smile graced his face.
          "You can ask me any question you want..." Kate was about to say something but was cut off, "…but every time I ring this bell, you must ask it differently."
          "What is this house?" Drew asked quickly, before he could be cut off. "A place of unspeakable horrors."
          "What kind of horrors?" Kate inquired.
          "Of only the kind that strip joints, lounges and smoky smelly pubs can produce…" Chesterfield replied.
          "Herpes?" Drew feigned.
          The bell rang…
          "Ah, um watered down whisky?"
          The bell again…
          This time Kate added, "A cheap date and a worrying rash the next morning?"
          The bell tinkled its melodic chime again…
          "A cheesy entertainer," this time a statement from Drew.
          "Someone desperate for fame, glory, attention and something to pay the bills with," Chesterfield finally clarified.
          Drew did a mock jump of joy at having guessed right. "And what, this house was built as a home for displaced comedians, impressionists and lounge singers?"
          "Displaced souls of them, yes."
          "Souls, what do you mean souls?"
          "It’s the need for fame that kills them all in the end," Chesterfield murmured wistfully.
          "Ahh yeah but what about these souls?" Drew reiterated.
          The bell chimed…
          "Do you mean ghosts?" Kate questioned, getting frustrated at the whole procedure.
          Chesterfield gave another smarmy grin and rang the bell.
          "You’re saying there’s ghosts in this house, what would some rich bastards want with ghosts?"
          Another smile, another ring.
          "You know, that is really starting to shit me…" She made a dive for the bell, but Chesterfield moved it swiftly and started to walk off down the corridor.
          "Hey what about the questions?" Drew called after him. "…I could have been hoeing into my third plate of spare ribs by now…" he mumbled to himself, turning to Kate, who was too busy insulting Chesterfield.
          "What about the questions, got to taxing for you?" she shouted at his retreating back.
          Chesterfield merely blew another smoke ring and rang the bell.
          "Where’d you get the jacket from, pimps are us?"
          The bell was her only response…
          "Yeah well the material is cheap, the cut makes you look fat and the colour shows up your wrinkles," she spat as he reached the end of the corridor. He stopped for a split second before ringing his bell and disappeared around the glass corner.
          Drew looked at Kate in doughy disbelief, "That was the good cop bad cop routine we didn’t discuss wasn’t it?"
          "Oh come on Drew, he was spoiling for a insult."
          Drew gave her a big grin, "How can I hate you, you’re so cute when you get homicidal."
          "Speaking of bees," Kate retorted, and opened up a chilled bottle of refreshing buzz beer. After taking a few sips, she glanced down and noticed an old looking book with a pair of clear glasses resting on top of it.
          "Ah Drew what’s that."
          "A birthmark…" he remarked, jumping when he actually noticed the book, "…Oh that." He picked it up, passing the glasses to Kate.
          Drew started flicking through the pages, most of it was written in what looked like Latin, but he soon came to some pictures with scribbled notes in English.