Presents...

Extracts from the diary of Horatio Dillane, found by his brother, Markus, one week after he was reported missing:

"The advert posted in the Times that fateful Winter morning gave no indication of what would lie ahead during my weekend visit to beautiful Derbyshire. The weekend, I was informed by letter, would involve a group of like-minded people investigating the alleged haunting of Shining Cliff Woods, conducted under the auspices of the National Foundation for the Psychical Research and one Harry Price. We met just after two o'clock on the Saturday which had begun cold and misty and grew foggy and freezing. Soon, quite a group had gathered, but now my memory clouds so I will try to record here those fateful few:  Myself of course, Horatio Dillane, Private Investigator; my travelling companion, Hiram Grumbacher (whom I already have my suspicions about). Next to arrive were a group who accompanied Mr Mark Wynn-Davies, amongst them were Miss Ashton, a missionary; a drunken Doctor by the name of Victor Mordenheimer and his man-servant Snow. The rest came in ones and twos: Mr Marsden, presumably a farmer; Count Andrzej Kempski, a polish gentleman whose exact nature remained a mystery; Jives, a butler whose employers appeared not to have arrived at all. Also there was Mr Roy Woods, a civil servant, Professor Chrispian Paris, a professor of history, accompanying an American, Mr Jackson McLeod and a Spanish lady named Concita Delguardio, who I note was very quiet and withdrawn.

After a short walk through the woods down a barely recognisable forest track, we arrived at the house. All was quiet there, but the telltale signs of recent activity were all too apparent. Blood, fairly fresh, was smeared down the front door window, and the interior appeared to be barricaded. Upon forcing our way in we were to find the house upturned and a small revolver with two spent cartridges lying on the side. After a thorough search inside, we discovered several scraps of paper. On them was scant details of a seance conducted by a local reverend, called Shannon, and the known Psychic Miss Shortland late last night. Also, the notes mentioned something purporting to a box and a charm. It was at this point that someone pointed out that the gun had disappeared. No one would admit to the misdemeanour, although personally I remember someone behind me touching the gun when we came in. I had my suspicions but I kept them to myself.

Mr Price and his faithful assistant Digsby showed us a variety of ghost-detecting devices, and although their nature was dubious, we were informed that a bell would sound if a ghost passed by them. Reports of local paranormal activity indicated several sightings of an entity known only as the White Lady of Shining Cliff at a lake at the far, far end of the woods. As the fog thickened, we traversed the woodland path to discover an unsettling scene: the lake itself was calm. quiet and eerie. There was not much light left as we began to place the devices on various paths which led to the house.

I myself travelled with Count Kempski, our Polish colleague, who described to me his own personal interest in the White lady. When we regrouped at the house, I discovered that one of the groups had been down near the lake and had apparently seen a ghostly apparition in white on the far shore. Paris and Ashton were sceptical, but Grumbacher was convinced and extremely edgy. Several of us returned to the automobiles to retrieve more equipment, and it was at this point we were alerted to the late arrival of the Frogmortons, Reginald and Bartholomew. They followed us back to the house as we related the evenings events. We were met with barely disguised scorn. Now we decided that the entire party should proceed to the lake to find evidence of the White Lady's passing. We ventured to the place she reportedly stood and discovered a weathered, dog-eared diary. We took our prize back to the house as darkness began to descend and it was at this point, I believe, my suspicions about the doctor were confirmed. Previously, he informed me he was not armed, but at the far side of the lake he had removed a small revolver from his pocket.

Night, cold darkness, was upon us. As we neared the house, an eerie glow emanated from one of the front windows. Myself, McLeod, Dr Mordenheimer and Snow proceeded inside. At this point three shots rang out. Allegedly, the doctor had seen an apparition in one of the bedrooms and had decided to shoot it. I was not sure as to whether I believed what he'd seen as now our friend was a little worse the wear for drink. Digsby informed us that he was off to check on the devices in the woods. Studying the diary, which had been written the night before by Rev Shannon, we learnt of the terrible events of that evening and how, after making contact with the White Lady through Miss Shortland, a mysterious dark force had laid siege to the house, driving Miss Shortland mad after which she fled the house to look for a charm of some sort.  We found out that a box spoken of by the White Lady during the seance had been buried somewhere near the house before she had committed suicide a century and a half before.

Dinner was soon served - a scrumptious and ample helping of simple but invigorating fare. A bell soon after rang outside, around the back of the house, and although we searched we found nothing. Almost an hour later the doctor had taken his own chloroform and was now babbling incoherently. He was briskly put to bed and Snow cleared up the mess. Digsby had still not returned. It was time to find him. After a search we discovered him, barely alive, lying next to an old gnarled tree not far from the shores of the lake. The tree, we noticed, swayed gently although the night shed no breeze. Upon its trunk rested a small bundle of blood-soaked aged cloth. As people tried to retrieve the bundle they were thrown back by an unseen force. I can vouch for this as I tried to get it as well.

A small party went back to the house to check on Miss Ashton who had remained with the doctor. We tried to remove Digsby when he suddenly awoke. He started ranting about moving trees, and seemed to die then and there of shock! It was now approaching the time when the first watch were meant to stay awake and keep an eye on the proceedings. No one, however, was ready for sleep. Myself, Marsden, the doctor and Snow stayed in the house whilst the rest of the party took Miss Ashton (a woman of faith) to the tree to see if she could claim the bundle from the tree. At this time, Dr Mordenheimer performed an autopsy on Digsby. There were multiple lacerations on Digsby's face, and traces of wood in the wounds. We began to realise the forest may not be what, at first, it had seemed.