Man, why don’t you have a private army? A private security force would be an excellent thing to have at a time like this. Lots of criminal types about. You should make a note of that.

You’re standing at the docks, several-years-old suit on – unfashionable, and a little to small, but that’s probably a good thing. Wearing a sunglasses-and-wig “disguise” that’s embarrassing on a professional level, chewing a match because people will remember you were chewing a match.

You sigh internally.

You’ve got salt in your pocket, and you’re carrying a pair of double-bladed throwing knives. One with a mixture that should ignite on contact with air, one with holy water blessed just today by a priest. Just in case you have to fight a ghost.

The priest, for what it’s worth, doesn’t believe in the things.

You really, really hope the holy water doesn’t actually work. It would be … embarrassing, after some of the things you’ve said.

Well, you’ve got your incredibly sketchy-sounding rumour that the ghost is taking vengeance on Falcone’s gang for burying him head-first, and a fairly solid tip that this pile of shipping containers contains guns Falcone is shipping in anticipation of a gang war. This was easy enough that you wonder why they haven’t been seized already, to be honest.

You wonder if any of the other people standing suspiciously around are police. You wonder if any of them are the ghost. You wonder if any of them are waiting for the ghost, too.

And then an honest-to-God, glowing green ghost floats out of a crate at the end of the row.

…

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