Jennings lifted five photos from the developer and examined them closely under the light: two shots of the priest with the Marine, two close-ups of the Marine alone, then one more of the priest alone in the distance. Not only did the blemish disappear in the two shots of the Marine, but when it reappeared in the final shot, it was smaller in size, relative to the size of the priest. As before it was a kind of a halo, but unlike the blemish that defaced the photo of the nanny, this one was oblong in shape, suspended well over the subject's head. The haze that enveloped the head of the nanny was inert, conveying a sense of peace, but the one above the priest's head was dynamic, as though in motion. It looked like a ghostlike javelin about to skewer the priest to the ground.

Jennings reached for an opium joint and sat back to speculate. He had read once that film emulsion was sensitive to extreme heat, just as it was to light. The article appeared in a photographic journal and dealt with ghostlike images that showed up on film taken in one of England's famed haunted houses. The writer, an expert in photographic science, had speculated on the relationship of nitrate to temperature change, noting that in laboratory experiments intense heat had been found to affect film emulsion the same way as light Heat was energy, and energy was heat, and if indeed, apparitions were, as some speculated, residual human energy, then under the right circumstances their shape could be recorded on film. But the energy the article spoke of was without relation to the human body. What was the meaning of energy that clung to the outside of a human form? Did it come at random, or did it have some meaning? Did it have to do with external influences, or was it perhaps born of anxieties festering within?

Anxiety was known to create energy, this the principle of the polygraph used for He detector tests. That energy was electrical in nature. Electricity was also heat. Perhaps the heat generated by extreme anxiety burst through human flesh and could thus be photographed surrounding people in states of great stress.

All this excited Jennings, and he dug through his film emulsion charts, finding the order number of the most light-sensitive film made—Tri-X-600, a new product so sensitive that one could photograph fast action by candlelight. It was probably the most heat-sensitive as well.