The Ghoul of Christmas Past

The descriptions, shaky though they are, are of a huge man with a deathly pallor. I think visitors to the theme park, and the press, thought it was a publicity stunt to draw more people in even though the park was failing, and the closure had already been announced. It made the headlines.’
‘It did?’ Michael had missed it completely.
‘Well, not in the national tabloids, obviously. But in the Supernatural Times it was a feature story.’ Michael felt like rolling his eyes but held back. Frank was talking again anyway. ‘You said there was a theft from the Dickens Museum. What was taken?’
With a shake of his head, Michael admitted, ‘Just some clothes. Well, one of Charles Dickens original outfits complete with top hat and walking cane. They seem like odd items for someone to take – I don’t see how a person could sell them on.’
‘Maybe that is not their intention,’ offered Frank.
Michael tilted his head, acknowledging the point. ‘What then? They want to play dress up? They were stolen by an aspiring writer who is now wearing them while writing to channel the ghostly spirit of Charles Dickens?’ He frowned deeply. ‘I met the curator a short while ago, he’s a prickly one, for sure. He fired the guard who reported the theft, and I think he did it because he knows something about the crime.’
Frank asked, ‘What makes you think that?’
Michael wriggled his lips from side to side as he thought about his answer. ‘I more or less accused him and got to see the panic in his eyes. There are lots of cabinets that line the walls with all manner of artefacts displayed, right? So one cabinet is empty because the outfit inside it was stolen, but the cabinets are all sealed and fed by a filtered air system that protects the things inside.’ Frank listened patiently, waiting for Michael to make his point. ‘Well, the filter system prevents dust forming, or so the curator said but it doesn’t remove a hundred percent of it so there was a very fine film on the shelves and it had been disturbed.’
‘Someone had been in the other cabinets?’ Frank sought clarity.
Michael nodded. ‘That’s what I think. I wouldn’t think anything of it, but like I said … the curator acted guilty. Quite how that connects to Ronald Norton going missing, or another shareholder trying to get a loan I have no idea. As for the ghoul … What do you think?’
Frank rubbed his chin. ‘I think we have a ghoul in the area, and no one is dealing with it. That’s what I think. Thefts from a museum are not something I care about unless, like you suspect, the two things are somehow linked. The ghoul has claimed our town or at least the local area as its hunting ground and is picking off victims.’
‘Just one known victim so far,’ Michael countered.
‘Well, exactly, known is the important word. We don’t know about the other victims but if it is eating them and taking from the homeless denizens of the town then we might never know about it.’
Sticking with Frank’s rather mad theory, Michael questioned, ‘Why then has it taken a prominent and probably rich person? Doesn’t that feel like a lot of coincidence to you? The ghoul is sighted at Dickens Greatest Works Theme Park where Ronald Norton is a shareholder. Ronald then goes missing after the park is shut down and was shouting at bank managers because they wouldn’t give him a loan.’
A tug at his coat sleeve disturbed what he was going to say next. ‘Michael, there are erotic magazines in this store,’ reported Mary in a tone that made her disgust clear. ‘There are boys looking at them.’
Frank heard her comment, most likely because she intended him to, but explained, ‘Those are adult Manga comics. They often depict adult scenes but not in a pornographic manner. They are rated as suitable for minors over the age of twelve.
Mary fixed him with a glare that would have melted wax. Or possibly steel if she narrowed her eyes just a little more. ‘It’s disgraceful,’ she snapped. ‘Filthy,’ she added, just in case disgraceful hadn’t done it. ‘We are leaving right this minute, Michael.’
‘But I’m talking to Frank. He says there is a ghoul at the Dickens theme park. I think this is all tied together.’ Michael didn’t wish to leave just yet. He was getting information. ‘I’m on to something here, Mary.’
Mary started for the door where she turned and began to tap her foot with impatience. ‘It is not your job, Michael. Leave it to Tempest.’
Michael and Mary had been married for long enough to know to where the other person’s limits would stretch. Michael was getting close to his. ‘Tempest isn’t available, dear,’ he replied with false politeness. ‘He had something very pressing to deal with. No one is dealing with the crime I have uncovered.’
‘Then hand it over to the police,’ she growled.

Chief Inspector Quinn. Saturday, December 24th 1407hrs
Mary muttered under her breath the whole way to the police station. It was her ill-thought instruction to report his stupid conspiracy theory to the police that meant they were not yet on their way home. She did it to herself and that was the worst of it.
‘They won’t have time for your nonsense,’ she voiced her opinion for the third time. ‘Whatever it is you think you know, the police already know it. Trust me.’
‘If they knew it, they would be doing something about it,’ Michael argued.
Refusing to back down, Mary pointed out, ‘You wouldn’t know if they were doing something. The police have people who work undercover, do they not?’
He had to concede the point, but he wasn’t going to let it go that easily. ‘I’m going in, dear.’
‘Well don’t be long,’ Mary griped. ‘The three-bird roast is