The Wylie house mystery began on a lonely evening, just me and ten dead soldiers, and ended in a rainstorm. Lady Luck frowns on me all the time and she didn't seem keen to change her mind. The last night of the stakeout began just like the rest: staked out in the church and waiting for Stanley to relieve me. I thought it was only a matter of time before the culprit took the bait and started digging again but so far it had been four days of boredom and bickering. The last night began on a more interesting note when an uninvited rainstorm came to the dance. There wasn't even thunder and lighting, there was just an unrelenting blackness and the drumming sound of rain that covered up most other sound. It was the perfect night to dig, if you didn't mind mud getting in the way. 

Stanley looked nervous when he came to relieve me. "Is Mr. Grumpy still going after Mr. Quiet?" I asked.

"Yeah, man. I don't know what's gotten into them. Maybe you could go calm them down."

I shrugged and decided to do just that. I had to stay nearby in case Stanley saw something. I found Emerson and Samuel sitting in the parlor. I'd just walked up and was shaking the water off of my hat when Emerson leaned over to Samuel and said for the fiftieth time in four days, "You know what I'm thinking about?" 

Mr. Emerson possessed all the subtlety of a repo-man, and I'd met enough to be an expert on the subject. Samuel had endured his attempts to pick a fight for days but any man could see that he was at the end of his rope. 

"What are you thinking about, Emerson?" He said quietly. There was steel in his voice. I don't know if spooks could do any harm to each other, but I decided to keep my distance edge away from them just in case. 

Emerson paused, a bit taken aback. He usually followed his question up with an accusation. I'd seen it enough in the times that I'd been in the house the last few days. Emerson wasn't used to Samuel replying to him. He coughed before continuing, "I've been thinking about what I heard you say the other day when communicating with your contacts. I heard something about lies being justified. I've come to the conclusion (and he'd been coming to that same conclusion for more than two days) that you are just like Nickolas. You stole the money to keep yourself on easy street while the town starved, didn't you? You mucked up Wylie's will with splotches and changed numbers so that no one could find his treasure before you spent it all."

Samuel sighed. "I'm not like you were."

"What?" I'd never heard Emerson sound so shocked. 

"You were the mobster, Emerson, not me. You were a wolf that preyed on the sheep of men"

That made me turn around. I'd never heard such cold fury in Samuel's voice. He was staring out into the rain like he wanted to destroy it. His words fell like the rain on the cemetery, hard and cold like a Chicago typewriter. 

"You and those so-called assistants are just like my flock. They accused me of lying and stealing when I was only trying to protect them. You're right, I tried to change some of the text but the splotches were already there..."

He stopped and put his head in his hands for a moment. I could see, through his fingers , that his face was flushed and red. After a moment he looked out at the abyss of night again and continued.

"I almost told you. I almost told you. ES was right, Bay Horse was soaked in greed and  that hasn't changed a bit. Do you know what the people of this town did when they thought I had stolen the money? They though I had hidden it in my church. Can you believe that? I tended to them for so many years, and yet their greed made them think so little of me. They tore the place apart while I pleaded with them to stop but they would not listen. They wouldn't stop until one of those reckless fools knocked over a lamp in the church. The resulting fire burned down half the town. That is the price of greed! I've been trying to stop that from happening again but I... what's that?"

Lightning had finally flashed but Emerson and I had been staring at him. He pointed out into the night. "That!"

Lightning flashed again and illuminated three figures in the cemetery. Two were running through the cemetery and another was standing right in front of Josswell Delecort's grave. The brilliant light glinted off of a raised shovel like a sinister wink.

"We can talk about this later, you palookas!" I yelled and ran out into the rain.

"Greed! I'm sick of greed!" Jasmine trilled over the pounding rain as she floated out into the cemetery.

I scrambled out to the cemetery as fast as I could but just as I passed the wrought iron gate lady luck frowned at me again. The lightning illuminated world turned upside down as I stepped on a patch of wet grass and fell flat on my face. I narrowly missed slamming my head on a tombstone, but pain greeted me like an old friend as I twisted my ankle. I tried to crawl further into the cemetery but I was helpless as a wino on a three week bender. The rain beat down on me mercilessly, mocking my hoarse yells that didn't carry. Somewhere in front of me, Jasmine continued to rant above drumming rain. 

"I let it poison any chance of happiness I've ever had in life, and it's even poisoned my afterlife too! Oh Nick, I am so sorry. My contacts were right, I should be starting a new existence, not trying to re-create my unhappy life..."

It must have been Z who was running after Jasmine. I could hear her implore Jasmine to reconsider and come back to the house.

"No I won't! I was just like those townspeople, full of greed! I want to find that treasure, find it and throw it all away. It's just hurt people, can't you see... Jack?"

Oh no. I could just barely hear Jack's petulant voice as I crawled forward. "You again! Why do you keep interrupting me?"

Jasmine screamed, and I heard the crack of metal against flesh. "Why couldn't you have taken the hint, Zanzibar?" He yelled. Lightening illuminated the scene once more, revealing Jack's face which was a mask of rage and frustration. "You won't stop me this time. The treasure is mine!"

The world went dark, and time slowed to a crawl. I knew the next sound I heard would be the sick sound of a shovel cleaving through flesh. I couldn't look away, I couldn't move. My blood ran cold as the shovel fell down like a guillotine. That was it. That was the end.

But that's shows you what I know. Thunder crashed and a figure in a white sheet hurled out of the darkness and crashed into Jack. They both went down in a heap, and when my ears stopped ringing from the thunder, I heard Stanley's voice ringing triumphantly out of the darkness.

"I did it, I did it!" It almost sounded like the voice of a man who had braved the horrors of the Civil War and had emerged victorious. Almost.

It turned out that Stanley had been lucky enough to knock Jack's melon against a tombstone. I decided not to mention it: he had managed to save the girl after all.

He did drag me out of the rain, too.

We all gathered in the Wylie house afterwards and called on the Sheriff to come take Jack away. Unfortunately, the Sheriff, scrupulous lawman that he is, won't charge Jack for all that he is worth. He's got one count of trespassing, and another for assault...but he refuses to charge Jack with threatening Z, or with attempted theft.  I told him everything I'd figured out, but Jack just denied being in the house when the threat was made.  Without that to establish an early hatred for Z, Jack'll just claim that he slipped in the rain and accidentally hit her.  Spooks can't testify against that in court, so it might just fly.  Unless I can tell the Sheriff how Jack threatened Z while outside the house, he'll go free.

So I need your help.  I can't figure out how Jack could have done it, although I'm sure he did.  If you can get me the info I need by Monday, he's going away for a long time.