Ford frowned at George's remark, then looked back down at the file on his lap. This didn't particularly seem like the spirit who would care much about whether or not George said please, so he wasn't surprised to hear that hadn't made a difference. It was sort of sweet, though. Sweet but unhelpful, like offering a lollipop to someone who had expressed an interest in murdering you.

"Well," he said, running his tongue over his teeth as he tried to think of what to say about this. "I usually start by trying to figure out what they want, and then seeing if there's a way they can get it that makes both parties happy. Did you try that?"

What the ghost wanted on the surface of things would be fairly evident, of course — he wanted to harass the living people, who were not inclined to compromise on their desire not to be harassed. In a lot of cases, though, Ford had found that the root of the disagreement was something the spirit thought was vitally important that the living people didn't care a wit about. He'd had a case similar to this one a while ago, where a spirit had been absolutely livid that his heirloom quill set was locked away in the attic, disused and unseen. The family had no desire to display it in their home, but were happy to donate it to the Museum of Magical Miscellany, which had appeased their dead relation.