Ghosts Know Read Online Free PDF

possible to Jasper, and nothing he can use. As I tell the listeners that I saw his show last night she reappears with him. When she lets him into the studio I lean across the console and give his hand the briefest shake. “Welcome to Wilde Card, Mr Jasper.”
    He’s wearing slacks and an equally white T-shirt, which is emblazoned with the slogan SEE THE TRUTH. Perhaps we’re meant to see him as modelling innocence. He sits opposite me and raises his gaze like a promise of honesty. His eyes are intent on looking both alert and gende, positively sympathetic. His faint smile may be meant to appear relaxed and amiable, but I’d call it smug if not secretly amused. “The name’s Frank,” he says. “This is a surprise.”
    “I wouldn’t have thought you’d want any of those, Frank.”
    “There’s not a whole lot I like more than surprising people.”
    He’s going to play more of his word games, is he? That’s fine if the listeners notice. “Do I call you Gray?” he wonders—says, at any rate.
    “I didn’t think you’d need to ask.” When he leaves that unanswered I say “Try Graham. What were you calling a surprise?”
    “Finding you’re running this show. Didn’t I give you a reading last night? That was at the Palace, your listeners should know. I’ll be giving readings there all week.”
    “Are you having to ask if you gave me one, Frank?”
    “I don’t have that great a memory. It isn’t necessary for what I do. If the spirit world speaks directly through me I may not remember what I said.”
    “Then here’s a reminder,” I say and switch on the playback.
    There’s silence for a moment and then for another. The recording was more distant and muffled than I liked, and I fiddled digitally with it, as much as it could take. Jasper clasps his hands together and parts his lips, just in time for his voice to be heard. “Now there’s a Jay down here in the stalls…”
    “Gee, you did show up prepared,” Jasper says and looks reproachful. “Did you check with someone it was okay to record?”
    I’ve paused the playback so that he can’t blot it out. “Wouldn’t you want anybody to?”
    “I’m just concerned about whoever got the reading.”
    “I don’t believe it was too personal. Would you like me to edit out everything she said?”
    “Hey, it’s your show. You do whatever you feel you have to.”
    I have to glance past him, because Paula has come to her door. As I meet her eyes she gives a single nod. “I will,” I say and let the playback loose.
    “Is it J for Jo? Somewhere in these first few rows? Jo something, is that what I’m being told?” When at last the lady in the audience rewards him with J osie’s name I stop the playback. “What would you say about all that, Frank?”
    “I’d rather hear what else the lady has to say.”
    “You can’t take a guess at her name.”
    “I’m not always told those. The spirits let me know when I’ve found who they’re seeking. That’s what counts.”
    “Didn’t you say Josephine was at the lady’s shoulder? I wouldn’t call that far to seek.” As Paula shuts her door, presumably content to let me deal with him, I point out “Somebody cynical might say you didn’t tell her as much as you seemed to. They’d say you knew there was a good chance there’d either be someone with a name like Jo near the stage, so you could be that specific, or somebody who knew someone with that kind of name. And once you got a response you started trawling for the full name or a surname.”
    “Well, that’s a whole lot of words just to try and take away the lady’s comfort.”
    I won’t respond to that except by reviving the playback. He gazes at me while we listen to several of his exchanges with the lady’s niece, and then I cut off his voice, which the digital improvements have left a little thin and shrill. “Everything you said to her could mean something else.”
    “But it didn’t, Graham, did it? You heard the lady say so