Sleep Journal - 190116 - Fairge Anma

[kimurho]

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Sleep Journal
16 January 2019

Craig returned much more slowly, head down, checking the numbers. He'd tested the ambient electromagnetic field in both test rooms and the hall. He'd had Neil plug the wonky computer in and tested it for fluctuations. The results were inconclusive at best. Almost discouraging but it didn't really matter what the readings were for every separate part of the puzzle but how they all worked synergistically.

He made the effort to remind himself not to get too excited; at the moment it was just a theory. And Justine's theory at that.

Douglas Monaghan, head of the parapsych group, was in the front office when Craig came through the door, talking with Tina Logan, the office manager. Both looked exceptionally concerned, but Douglas's expression cleared when he spotted Craig.

"There you are, good. Just the person I wanted. The campus librarian just called. Someone vandalized one of the study cubicles."

"So how does that make it our business?" Craig asked, more curious than confrontational.

"He said they burned a pentacle on the carpet," Tina answered. "He's convinced it was one of our students and he's afraid it's devil worship."

Craig scoffed at the thought. "If it were one of us, we'd be down in the Psych library, not over in general collection. We've got the real books here."

"Unless ..." a fourth voice inserted. He turned toward the door to the graduate ghetto ... office. Justine stood there. She fell silent under the barrage of three sets of eyes on her.

Dr. Monaghan hitched his hip up on one corner of Tina's desk, crossing his arms over his chest. His expression showed intent interest. Freeing one hand, he gestured for her to continue as he prompted, "Yes? Unless what?"

"Isn't the main library supposed to be haunted?" she asked.

Craig blew a raspberry to show his opinion of the question. Dr. Monaghan took it seriously.

"It is. Supposed to be haunted, that is. We get calls periodically reporting purported supernatural or paranormal activity. Sometimes it is students acting up." He gave Craig a pointed look. "Students in the Intro Parapsych class. Usually during the unit on ghosts, spirits, and hauntings, though ...," he paused, frowning in thought. "Those tend to be later in the unit, after we've discussed our methods and they get impatient for the supernatural methods."

He shrugged, returning to the present discussion, and continued his explanation, saying, "We've investigated several times, but came up with nothing." He half turned toward Craig. "You participated with one such investigation as an undergraduate, didn't you, Craig?" The expression on his face was archly amused.

Craig scowled. Nobody likes being called on youthful indiscretions. "I did. Locked in the library overnight, scanning for hours. Found bupkis. Which you know." Dr. Monaghan told Craig at the time that if he didn't have a certain amount of data to show for his efforts, he ... Douglas Monaghan ... would inform campus authorities of who the perpetrator of the library poltergeist activity was. "I'd stake my reputation on it; there is no ghost in that building," Craig finished grimly.

"But it doesn't matter what you think," Justine argued. Craig bristled and started to respond but she steam-rolled on, turning toward Dr. Monaghan. "Or what you have or haven't found there. What matters is what others think. What the students believe. If someone believes there is a ghost in the library, then they might try to ... I don't know ... conduct a seance ... force it to reveal itself."

Douglas put his chin on his fist to consider her point. He nodded. "Or exorcise it. That's a good point, Justine. Which is why we need to identify exactly what kind of pentacle they've found."

"But it's just a bunch of kids fooling around," Craig protested. He had more important things to do than to waste time in the library hunting a ghost that didn't exist.

When Douglas nodded agreement, Craig felt emboldened to add, "And there's nothing to say that any of our students are involved."

Again, Douglas gave a thoughtful nod but he added a gentle smile that caused Craig's heart to drop. He knew what was coming.

"It doesn't matter if it was one of ours who did it or not. It's our business to get to the bottom of it. Find out who and what and why."

He unfolded himself, standing to his full height. He was a head taller than Justine who was a bit taller than Craig. "Or rather, as of this moment, it's your business. You and Justine, get over there and see what we're dealing with. Take readings, get pictures, talk to witnesses. You know the drill."

One of the assistant librarians was watching for them; he met them as soon as they entered the main foyer, stopping a short distance away.

"You're the ones from Monaghan's office, right? The ghost hunters?" Disapproval radiated off him.

"Paraphysicists," Craig corrected sharply. "And it's Doctor Monaghan."

Justine elbowed him in the side, while smiling at the disgruntled librarian. She covered the move by extending her hand toward the man.

"That's right. I'm Justine. This is Craig. Can you show us where the problem is?"

"It would be better if we could talk to the person who discovered the vandalism," Craig corrected.

"That would be me." Although he was answering Craig, the man was looking at Justine. He still didn't seem happy to see them, but he was no longer so openly hostile.

"This way. Follow me." He moved jerkily, turning around and striding off. Craig and Justine followed.

"You may remember from the last time you were here, Stevenson, that we provide study rooms for serious scholars. Usually, they are reserved for a period time, but sometimes students find them open and use them without reservations. We talk to the scholars, reminding them to lock the doors when they leave and return the keys to the front desk, but might was well be talking to the wind for all the good it does."

The study rooms ... closets ... were in a row. Each had a window in the door and another beside the doorjamb. The one beside which the librarian stopped had both windows covered with papers.

"That's another thing; they are not allowed to cover up the windows. They only do that when they're doing something they know they shouldn't. Eating in the cubicle. Fooling around with one another. Or worse. Tearing pages out of books. Even, .... " his voice lowered with disapproval. " ... stealing books."

There was writing on the papers covering the glass panes. Justine studied it, her brows lowering with concentration. Craig ignored it, waiting impatiently for the man to get on with opening the door.

The librarian turned the key and flung the door open. Without stepping inside, he started to reach with one arm but stopped with an exclamation of dismay. "I know I turned that light off. And I've had the key since I discovered this disgusting vandalism."

"Is there another key?" Craig asked, since Justine seemed too interested in her reading to ask the obvious.

"No!" He collected himself with a sniff of disapproval. "Well, yes. The head librarian has a master key. And the custodian. And there's another master key on file in Grounds department."

"Could one of them have come by to examine the damage?" Craig continued. He couldn't see what the problem was because the man still stood in the doorway.

"Of course not! Why would ... Well, I suppose the custodian might have come by. The head librarian is at a conference this week, but I informed her of the problem. She might have asked the custodial staff to handle it, even though I told her I'd have you lot in on it."

"Excuse me," Justine said, smiling sweetly. "Could I see what the damage is?" She flirted her eyes at him and he actually gave a small smile as he stepped to one side. Justine reacted with a surprised intake of breath, her eyes widening. "What did they use to do that? Lighter fluid maybe?"

"Can I see?" Craig asked, somewhat perfunctorily as he was already moving forward, shouldering the man out of his way.

A set of double circles were visible the floor just inside the doorway. Craig gestured Justine out of the way and tried to step over. He couldn't. It was as if the door were still shut, but invisible.

Frowning, he extended his hand through, about light-switch high.

That was possible.

Slowly, he lowered his hand, testing to see where the resistance started. When his hand was waist high, he felt a sudden all over body shove that sent him flying off his feet.

"Craig? What happened?"

Shaking his head, he got to his feet.

"That ... didn't happen to me," the librarian said nervously. "But ... I just turned off the light. I didn't try to go in."

Craig ignored him. That wasn't helpful. He looked at Justine. "You try it," he suggested. She gave a rueful chuckle.

"I'm not wanting to be flung back on my keister," she objected, but she was already pushing her hand through the door opening, shoulder high. Even more slowly than Craig, she moved her hand down, ready to pull it out as soon as she felt the slightest resistance. Her hand came to a stop hovering just over the dark line on the flooring material.

"I can go further," she reported, "but I'm not sure I want to touch this yet."

"No. You don't. Not yet." Craig took a deep breath. He was starting to get excited. This was not the usual student trick. "See if you can step inside."

Justine took a deep breath, braced herself in case she, too, was thrown back, and stepped over the nested circles into the study cubicle. She looked back as Craig and shook her head. "Nothing."

Craig hissed an inward breath as he had a thought. "I hate to say this, but can you come out again?"

The expression on Justine's face was almost worth it. Her eyes narrowed at him. "If I'm stuck in this room for any length of time, you are getting my son from the babysitter and taking care of him until I get out," she warned. Craig smirked.

Taking another deep breath, holding it, she stepped back over the circles. Then back into the room. Once more she shook her head, this time adding a shrug of her shoulders. "Still nothing. Do you want to try it again. Maybe it's broken?"

"In a minute." Justine nodded and pulled out one of the cameras she'd brought with them. As she started recording a visual record of the damage, Craig turned back to the librarian. "Who had this room last?"

"I told you, sometimes students ..."

Craig interrupted. He didn't have time for this.

"Yes, I know. I heard you the first time. Just ... who had the room?"

"Professor Carmichael, Literature. He's preparing a paper on the role of women in Medieval literature and consulting with some of the references in our rare books collection."

"When did he last use the room?"

"Yesterday, about this time. I know the room was locked when he left, because I locked it myself. I made myself personally responsible for making sure that the books he requested were returned to the rare collections room."

"And no one since then?"

"I let no one in the room until I opened it for Professor Carmichael, just before I called your office. Once I saw the damage, I turned off the light and closed the door, locking it. I found another cubicle for the professor."

"Were the windows covered when he left?" The librarian answered with an indignant denial, leaving no doubt that he would have personally removed any such a thing no matter who had put it up.

From inside the room, Justine asked, "You said you have the only copy of this key. Do you take it home with you?"

"No. Of course not. It's kept in the librarian workroom."

"Where anyone can get it?" she persisted.

"Only librarians."

Craig thought of another question but Justine got there first. "What about student interns? Would they have access to the key?"

"Well ... yes. Of course they would. They use the workroom as a break area during their shifts."

"Then we'll need to talk to them," Craig decided. "Right though ... Is there a step ladder I can use? Or a chair, maybe, that I can step on."

"Oh, please! Not a chair. I'll summon a custodian."

While he was gone, Craig busied himself examining the room from the outside. It was little bigger than a closet, containing only a table, set flush against the back wall, and a hard chair. The table had a desk lamp on it. That was turned off. There was a light fixture, with a white frosted cover, on the middle of the ceiling. Beside that was a small round plastic case. CCTV, perhaps? That could be useful. The only other thing in the ceiling was a sprinkler.

That was it. Not very exciting.

While he was waiting, he took out the EMF meter, taking readings outside the study cubicle in question and the ones to either side. He made a mental note to ask to be let into those other rooms in order to take EMF readings in there as control. He also wondered what was on the floor above this cubicle. Would it be worth his while to check?

That would depend on what readings he got from the three rooms, and especially this one.

He turned his attention to the papers covering the windows. Not English. Not Latin, either. Roman letters, though, so probably European. He turned his attention to the symbols that appeared from time to time.

There was one that looked like a Viking rune. Th. He knew that from the Lord of the Rings series. Another that could be an I. Was the upside m-shape an E or an M? He couldn't remember.

Other symbols looked like lines with scratches on them. Not Viking runes but ... Irish, maybe? Douglas would know.

Craig checked on Justine. She seemed to be doing everything inside the room that needed to be done, but that didn't mean he didn't want to get in there himself. Then he looked for the librarian. Or custodian. Or someone with a ladder. It was taking long enough.

Finally, he turned his attention back to examining the papers on the windows. He looked at the writing and recognition hit him like a blow to the stomach. He'd seen that handwriting before.

Sarah. When Sarah lent him her notes because he'd missed classes. She ...

Justine was talking to him. "Craig? Did you find something?"

"No. Just bored. Make sure you take those papers down."

"Of course." She sounded offended. "They'll lead us to whoever wanted to hide what they were doing."

"Maybe not. Be pretty stupid to try to hide a crime with something that points right at you." And Sarah Farris was not stupid. "The pages look like they were crumpled up. Maybe our perp took them out a waste basket somewhere and used them."

"People have been stupid like that before." She related one story about a thief who'd left his wallet at the scene of the crime and then another about someone who posted a video of him breaking into a store. "And then there was the girl ..."

"Here he is."

The assistant librarian was back with a custodian, the latter carrying a stepladder. The ladder was stopped at the entrance to the cubicle so they had to maneuver it up the obstruction. Once they had it in place, Craig started climbing over. He got to the top ... and was thrown even further than before.

"Oh my God! Craig! Are you all right?" Justine pushed the ladder out of her way ... It moved easily, with none of the problems they'd had putting it into place.

She dropped to her knees beside him.

He lifted up onto his elbows. The back of his head hurt.

"You're bleeding."

The custodian was gone. The librarian, pale and shaken, remained.

"I'm ... going to ... Miss ... umm, Justina? Could you shut the door for me? Please."

"We aren't finished yet," she replied.

"Ah yes. Well ... I have duties I need to be performing. I can't spend all day with this. Why don't I ... ahh ... just let you have the key. Lock it up when you're done."

He couldn't get away fast enough.

Justine took the key. She held a handkerchief to the back of his head, staunching the blood. Craig tried to sit up again. She held him down, saying, "Stay still. The ambulance will be here soon."

"Force field." Craig said. Despite the headache. And the back ache. And the bumps and bruises he'd no doubt be feeling soon, he was almost happy. This was real.

"Craig?" Justine sounded scared. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

He pushed her hand out of his face, this time sitting all the way up. "No. That thing. Across the door. It's a force field. No. No. no-no. Not a forcefield. A ward. A gender-based ward designed to keep men out of that room. Justine." He grabbed her arm. "This is important. Go in there and photograph everything. There's something in there that someone wants to keep away from all men. I want to know what it is."

"Craig! You're bleeding. You may have a concussion, you hit your head pretty hard."

"Yes. Yes, I understand. Give me that." He took the handkerchief out of her hand and pressed it to his own head, gesturing with his other hand toward the study cubicle. "Now go take those pictures."