They followed each other well into the city. The spectres made straight for a men's outfitters store and roamed up and down a corridor of shirts. "They're going to spend their money," murmured the Wabbit. Lapinette said "Shhh." She watched as they examined all the colours. "I think want disguises," said the Wabbit. He was keen on his theory, but Lapinette didn't see why spectres would need them. "The best-dressed guest spectres in town?" Spectres glided past ties, trousers, shoes and bags. Hardly a word issued from their mouths. Just a low humming now and then. "Maybe they're going out on the town?" whispered the Wabbit. "Or shopping for family?" replied Lapinette. The Wabbit was astonished at the thought. "They have families?" "Everyone has family," said Lapinette. One spectre gazed intently at a label. "Looking for bargains," she mused. The spectre at the back loaded shirts on his shrouded arm. He seemed to be shopping for the three. Another spectre approached the micro-ATM. He poked it. "I don't know why he's doing that. They have money, don't forget. From the pile in the church." The Wabbit nodded sagely. "I wonder if it's their money or if they stole it." Lapinette thought. "Easy if you're a ghost." The Wabbit considered the matter. That felt wrong. "I'd say it had symbolic value." Lapinette agreed. "Spectres with ghost money. They're standing in for something else. Money transferred covertly by a secret agency." The Wabbit agreed. "They're laundering it."
