"It's me, babe. Look, I gotta talk fast, cause I don't know how much time I've got..."
Time we got down to business - besides, the sooner Harry was out of here and back where he belongs, the better I'd like it. "Suits me pal. Where's Cricket Martin?"
"Oh, he's dead."
"So he had nothing to do with stealing the rock?"
"I didn't say that. He's dead, alright, but that doesn't make him inaccessable to certain people, y'know?", he said, motioning in Angel's direction. "Ya see, that rock was the caper he never finished, so when he found a suitable partner with ESP, he offered to show her how to pull the job, thus giving him the satisfaction of settling the score and allowing him to rest in peace."
"Why didn't you tell us this before?"
"Hey, I tried. It's a hell of a commute from my end of town, but to make things worse, both Cricket and his partner were trying to block my attempts to make contact. I might not have been able to talk to you now, if not for the fact that the job is finished and Cricket is gone."
"Why are you so interested in this personally, anyway?"
"Cricket and I are old aquaintances. Back in Vietnam, he had tried to rip off the Maltese Mousie from me that I believe you recently found in my locker. There was also the fact that Cricket and his partner were aware that you'd be called onto the case, and seeing as you're living with my wife, I thought it kind of made us related..."
It was all starting to make sense. Some medium, walking around in the Great Beyond, stumbles one day into one of the greatest cat burglars who was ever in the business. As it turns out, he had planned one last job that would have been the achievement of his lifetime, only his lifetime hadn't lasted quite as long as he'd planned. And now he finds a medium who can act as he's proxy back on earth, resulting in the proxy getting the rock, and him getting the credit. The big question, of course, was who was the proxy...
Angel's spirit guide interrupted - "Wait a second, someone is trying to break contact!"
Harry looked off to one side, apparently staring at empty space. His expression changed to one of extreme distress. Morty, the spirit guide, called out to him - "RUN, YOU SCHMUCK! YOU CAN'T FIGHT THEM ALL!!!"
Ramona called out, "What is it Harry, what's wrong?"
"It's the other medium. She's recruited some thugs to help her out on this side. I've gotta make a run for it..."
"Wait - what's her name?"
"It's...uh..."
Harry appeared to double over as if he'd just been punched in the gut. His image faded, dissipating into ectoplasm. Suddenly, things started flying around the room - by themselves. Pictures were smashed, lamps knocked over, end tables up-ended. Ramona and I ducked for cover behind the couch. I muttered "Just another typical afternoon in another typical American home..." Ramona cut in, "Yeah, if you happen to be the Addams family!"
In the middle of all this chaos, Angel remained frozen in a trance still sitting in front of the incense. Finally, Morty screamed, "Angel, break contact, break it now!!!"
Suddenly, the incense on the table disinitegrated in a puff of thick, black smoke. All the flying debris dropped to the floor. The room fell silent. Angel opened her eyes. "Hi, guys. I miss anything?"
TO BE CONTINUED...