Murder Has No Class by Rebecca Kent

her, she thought, considering she had no idea what powers he possessed.
    For a moment or two flashes of lightning shot out from the mist, blurring the man’s image for a moment, then gradually he became clear once more. Holding up his hand, he tilted his head to one side and stuck out his tongue.
    Incredibly childish, Meredith thought, but then she realized what he was trying to portray. “Yes,” she said, “I know you were hanged for the murder of your father. I read all about it in the newspaper. Well, let me tell you, I believe you got exactly what you deserved. Shooting your own father in cold blood. How despicable.”
    The ghost shook his head, and waved his hands in front of his face.
    Feeling a little braver now that it seemed he could not hurt her after all, Meredith leaned forward. “I do not aid and abet murderers,” she said, emphasizing each word. “It seems to me that justice was served, and served well. I do not know why you are unable to leave this world, but you must work that out for yourself. I can’t and I won’t help you.”
    Again the ghost shook his head, then raised his fists. The mist grew darker, fiercer in color, while it seemed that flames circled the man’s head. Then gradually it faded and once more the fog curled inward, growing smaller until it vanished altogether.
    Meredith held her breath until the last wisp of smoke had disappeared, then gave a decisive nod. That should be that. She had twice denied him. Surely now he would leave her alone.
    She expressed as much to Felicity and Essie the following morning, while they enjoyed a cup of hot tea in the teacher’s lounge.
    Essie clapped her hands in approval, though Felicity shook her head and muttered, “If you ask me, you are biting off more than you can chew. If you don’t take care, these apparitions that you profess to see will turn your brain. I should hate to see you committed to an asylum.”
    Meredith felt a cold pang of fear. Although she would never admit it aloud, she had at times doubted her sanity when confronted by the visions. The fact that she had helped to solve two murders had given her some comfort. At least, if she were on the brink of madness, some good had come of it.
    “Nonsense.” Essie stared at Felicity in dismay. “How could you say such a thing! You know very well that Meredith has more intelligence and common sense than you and I combined.”
    Felicity laughed. “I don’t doubt that, Essie. I just fear that our dear friend can only take so much before she loses the ability to distinguish between reality and fantasy.”
    “I’m still in the room,” Meredith pointed out mildly. “I wish you would not speak of me as if I’m not here.” She picked up her knitting bag and opened it. “In any case, I shall make every effort to hold onto my sanity, no matter how many ghosts I encounter.”
    “Well, let’s hope you’ve seen the last of this one.” Felicity leaned back in her chair and crossed her feet. “Though he does seem convinced you can help him. Perhaps he is trying to atone for his sins, in the hope that it will allow him to enter whatever strange world these beings inhabit.”
    Unsure if Felicity was having fun with her, Meredith clicked her needles in a frenzy of knitting. “I don’t see how he can atone for murdering his own father in cold blood.”
    “Well, no doubt you will soon be telling me he has returned. I have a feeling you won’t be rid of him until you’ve agreed to help him.” Felicity laced her fingers together. “Whether this phantom is a figment of your imagination or a visitation from the other side, it seems to me that the matter can only be resolved when you have produced a logical conclusion to an unresolved issue.”
    Felicity’s words remained with Meredith through much of the morning, in spite of her best efforts to ignore them. Perhaps, she thought, as she thankfully headed for the dining room at midday, there just might be some truth in her friend’s