Of course, baiting their unwelcome guests didn’t affect the Occupation at all, though from it the Tors derived bitter satisfaction. This they imbibed to the dregs, which were just bitter. And then a long gray Mercedes 770 delivered Mr. West and his peculiar luggage.

Refusing the usual guest rooms, Mr. West insisted on the third-floor suite—Percy’s space. He slouched amidst his accouterments while the maids hurried to prepare it. And whether the maids spoke to Percy, and what they might have said to him if they did, were much speculated on at the kitchen table.

Mr. West had a singular approach to removing entities. It ended with an exorcism. But that was for show, after he’d driven the entities away. His first step was to test Percy’s reality and learn his nature. After dinner and port, a ritual of torment that Mr. West stoically endured, he withdrew to his suite. He prepared for bed, started a Vitaphone disk recorder, and hypnotized himself with a metronome.

In lucid dream, he sought the creature.