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—no way! I come from a long line of mighty ansheshtral demonsh, and our namesh—”
    “Have you got something in your mouth?”
    Xemerius spat and smacked his lips. “Not now. I ate the pigeon I found asleep on theroof. Stupid feathers.”
    “But you can’t eat at all!”
    “No idea of anything, but always giving us the benefit of her opinion!” said Xemerius, offended. “Won’t even let me eat a little pigeon!”
    “You can’t eat a pigeon,” I repeated. “You’re a ghost.”
    “I’m a demon ! I can eat anything I like! I once ate a whole priest. Vestments and all. Why are you looking at me so incredulously?”
    “Why don’t youkeep your eyes open for anyone coming?”
    “Hey, don’t you believe me?”
    Nick had already climbed down the steps into the bathroom and was shining his flashlight along the wall. “I can’t see anything.”
    “The chest is behind the brickwork, like I said. In a hollow space, bonehead,” said Xemerius. “And I’m not lying. If I say I ate a pigeon, then I did eat a pigeon.”
    “It’s in a hollow space behindthe brickwork,” I told Nick.
    “But I can’t see a loose brick anywhere.” My little brother knelt down on the floor and pressed his hands against the wall, testing it out.
    “Hello-o-o, I’m speaking to you!” said Xemerius. “Are you ignoring me, crybaby?” When I didn’t reply, he said, “Well, okay, so it was the ghost of a pigeon. Comes to the same thing.”
    “Ghost of a pigeon—are you trying to be funny?Even if pigeons did have ghosts—and I’ve never seen one—you still couldn’t eat them. Ghosts can’t kill one another.”
    “These bricks are all solid as rocks,” said Nick.
    Xemerius snorted angrily. “First, even pigeons can sometimes decide to stay on the earth and haunt it, don’t ask me why. Maybe they have unfinished business with a cat somewhere. Second, kindly tell me how you can tell a ghostpigeon from all the other pigeons. And third, their ghostly life is over if I eat them. Because as I’ve told you I don’t know how often, I’m no ordinary ghost. I’m a demon ! Maybe I can’t do much in your world, but I’m big news in the world of ghosts. When will you finally get the hang of that?”
    Nick stood up again and kicked the wall a couple of times. “Nope, nothing we can do about it.”
    “Ssh!Stop that, it makes too much noise.” I put my head into the bathroom and looked at Xemerius reproachfully. “So you’re big news. Great. Now what?”
    “How do you mean? I never said a word about loose bricks.”
    “Then how are we to get at the chest?”
    “With a hammer and chisel.” That was a very helpful answer, only it wasn’t Xemerius who gave it, but Mr. Bernard. I froze with horror. There he stood,only a couple of feet above me on the steps. I could see his gold-rimmed glasses sparkling in the dark. And his teeth. Could he be smiling?
    “Oh, shit!” Xemerius was so upset that he spat out water on the carpet over the steps. “He must have inhaled the cold chicken to get it inside him so fast. Or else the film was no good. You can’t rely on Clint Eastwood these days.”
    Unfortunately I was unableto say anything but “Wh-what?”
    “A hammer and chisel would be the best solution,” repeated Mr. Bernard calmly. “But I suggest you put it off until later. If only so as not to disturb the rest of the family when you take the chest out of its hiding place. Ah, I see Master Nick is here too.” He looked into the beam of Nick’s flashlight without blinking. “Barefoot! You’ll both catch your death ofcold.” He himself was wearing slippers and an elegant dressing gown with an embroidered monogram, WB. (Walter? William? Wilfred?) I’d always thought of Mr. Bernard as a man without any first name.
    “How do you know it’s a chest we’re looking for?” asked Nick. His voice didn’t tremble, but I could tell from his wide eyes that he was as startled and baffled as I was.
    Mr. Bernard straightened