Alva tried not to smile, but a little bit crept out against her will. “Mr. Miller, won’t you come back? If I can find some way to get rid of the ghost?”

Miller looked from one woman to the other, clearly feeling like he’d stepped into a trap. “I suppose,” he said, his words coming slowly. “If you can get rid of it, and if I hear that from a person who knows their business.”

Alva let the challenge to her honor slide. “I’m very grateful to you both,” she said, sending a particularly warm smile in Mrs. Miller’s direction. “I’ll get news to you as soon as I can.”

As she walked away from the house, her feeling of victory deflated. Who could she find that would be willing to get rid of a ghost that didn’t even exist? Perhaps a priest could convince them, but Miller hadn’t sounded like he had much faith in that option. Someone higher up in the church, perhaps? Two priests? A team of priests?

She didn’t need a priest, Alva realized, stopping in the middle of the street and closing her eyes. She needed an expert. And unfortunately for her, that’s exactly what she already had.

She felt like a damn fool. It had only been the work of an hour to return home, ask Liza where the famous scientist who’d come to town had taken lodgings, and make her way back there. That had been the easy part. Now that she was standing on his stoop, staring at his door … she remembered exactly what she had said to him the last time they had spoken. And why she had said it.

“This isn’t personal,” she murmured to herself, flexing her right hand in her glove. “It’s business.” She nodded firmly and knocked on the door.

The door opened swiftly, revealing a trim, handsome man in a brown tweed suit.

“Hello,” he said, smiling politely. “May I help you?”

“I’m looking for Professor Moore.”

“Please come in,” he said, standing aside to allow her to enter. “I’m Henry Van de Berg, Professor Moore’s man of business.”

“Alva Webster,” she replied, walking past him into the front room.

“Oh,” he said, with a slight quirk of his mouth. “I see.”

Alva registered the smirk, but more pressing observations were crowding her mind. “My god,” she said, standing stock still in the middle of the room. “It’s like someone took apart a train.”

“Only if the train was filled with deadly chemicals and wires that could burn a house down,” Henry said, sighing as he too looked around. “But if you think this is bad, you should see the family home. It’s the whole railroad yard.”

“Goodness,” she said weakly.