'Ambergris Jones and the Negotiation' by Suzanna Lundale

 

Absently tapping her lips, Ambergris re-read her notes, until a pointed throat-clearing reminded her that they were still waiting for her answer. She looked up. “I really can’t say for certain that you’re dealing with gho–”

“Miss Jones,” interjected the one she had inwardly dubbed Tweedle-Dee – their mysterious client’s representatives did look comically similar, really. He winced as he tried, and failed, to achieve a more dignified posture in the deep chair he’d sunk into. “Our employer is offering good money…” Under the weight of Ambergris’ steady gaze, he trailed off, looking to Tweedle-Dum for support.  The latter shifted awkwardly and tried to look forbidding.

“I believe what my colleague is trying to say, Miss Jones, is that you came highly recommended to our employer as an expert in paranormal phenomena. Why, even Downing Str–” He broke off at a mewl of alarm from his partner. “Quite right. That is to say, our employer expects res–” This time his own shriek of alarm abruptly ended the admonishment he’d meant to deliver as the spectral figure of a boy rose up from the floor in front of him. The figure glared at the silenced man.

“Jasper…” warned Ambergris, not trusting herself to say more, so comical was the image of her apprentice glaring at the terrified man. The specter turned his head to Ambergris, looking aggrieved.

“But he wasn’t being respec’ful, and you said it’s impor’ant to be–” At Ambergris’ look, he retreated and came to hover beside her.

“As I said, I can inspect the site myself to make an assessment, or you can find–” Ambergris stopped, eyebrow raised, as the two men struggled to their feet. Tweedle-Dum spoke, his voice unsteady.

“We need to consult La–”

“– our employer,” corrected Tweedle-Dee hastily.