Chapter 3

It was Wednesday, his things were mostly unpacked. He didn't really mind spending the time with Harry and Clara, but since Harry had brought it up he had been excited to see the place.

Clara was the one to drive them. Turning off of the main road, they made their way through forest. A single pathway was worn from the main road into the line of trees. She took it slowly, careful not to bounce the car around too much. When they cleared to the opposite end they saw the house. It was an older house, mostly unpainted wood. It was a bit unnerving with it's ghostly appearance but John forced a smile. There was a car parked in the packy dirt patch that served as a driveway. A fairly decent sized garage was erected next to the house at the end of the drive.

"That must be Mr. Albott." Clara commented, looking at the car as a smartly dressed man climbed out. Mr. Albott looked to have been in his 40's. His dark hair starting to gray, but his blazer and slacks were ironed to perfection. Clara pulled up and parked the car. Letting it run for a few moments before turning it off.

Carefully pushing the door open, John climbed out of the vehicle, making sure as to not lose his footing in the slick earth beneath his feet.

"Ah, you must be Dr. Watson." The smartly dressed man walked forward, holding his hand out to shake it. John grabbed it, shaking it firmly.

"Please, call me John." John smiled. The man grinned, his eyes sparkling as he nodded.

"Carl," he replied. "You're here for a tour of the house?" He questioned, letting go. John wanted to be sarcastic and tell him no, he was just there to run naked aimlessly through the yard but settled with a friendly nod of the head as his eyes trailed off to the ocean. "Good!" He smiled. "Follow me."

Turning he made his way for the garage. Harry and Clara hesitated, exchanging a few words behind him before they followed. Getting to the garage, Carl grabbed the door and pushed it open, wasting no time in getting down to business.

"This garage was built in the early 1900's by a man named Phillip Welsh. It's sturdy, given it's old age. It doubled as a workshop and even as a medical clinic at one point in time, even though as medicine got better, the conditions in which were required to undergo medical procedures were updated." He explained. "There is plenty of room to park your car and plenty of shelf room and counter in case you need it for anything."

John looked around. It was an empty dirt floor garage, the dirt barren and packed down tight. It could fit two cars in it and looked very similar to that of a horse stable. Counters were put in, wrapping along the entire back side of the garage. To the far end there were a flight of stairs. His guess it lead to a second floor used for storage. "Not bad." John mused, looking around. He stopped seeing a couple electric lights. They seemed like a new edition.

As the cold blew in off of the ocean he couldn't help but notice how warm the garage was. It was as if it was insulated to withstand the long hours of work in the colder months.

"Shall we check out the house?" Carl questioned, a happy smile on his face. John looked at him, being pulled out of his vacancy. He gawked quietly before raising his eyebrows, shaking his head.

"Of course." Carl grinned and turned, making his way back past the doctor, heading out for the house. John followed along, flashing a quick smile at the girls behind him as he climbed the couple steps onto the porch. It was a wrap around that covered most of the side of the house overlooking the water. He liked it.

"Large two story house. The insides were reconstructed after a bad fire in the late 1800's, early 1900's." the man presented. It seemed as if they'd entered right into a living area. The floors newer looking that the outside.

"A fire?" John looked at him, remembering what Harry had told him a few days before.

"Oh," Carl stopped and looked at John, an expression on his face as if he were already regretting saying anything about it. "The person who bought this house from Mr. Welsh was killed in a fire that took place in this house." John nodded, looking around. It seemed a bit dark and bare. Large windows were covered in dust, spiderwebs knitted a veil across them. This house looked like it hadn't been cleaned in years, but what carpeting it had looked like it had been laid down at least within the last 15.

"Did the house have to be torn down?" John questioned, wondering if the shell was original and it was just gutted or if it had burnt to the ground.

"Oh no, the fire surprisingly was able to be put out with minimal damage to the outside or foundation. My father bought this 30 some odd years ago and rebuilt the inside. He added in electric, new floors, replaced the windows, better plumbing. When he died his real estate went to me." He replied. Then with a quick nudge of his head he motioned for John to follow him into another room. A kitchen, or so it seemed. It opened up into a large dining room, a large beautiful window over the sink that overlooked the water.

"Certainly plenty of room here." John mused in awe. "It's not haunted is it?" He snickered looking at Carl. Harry slapped his arm, not appreciating being made fun of in front of a stranger. Carl laughed, shaking his head, but there was a look in his eye that put John off a bit.

"No, oh no. No ghosts here I can assure you." There was a thud upstairs, making John, Carl and Clara jump. Harry screamed, her hand clasping over her heart. "Ah, I forgot to tell you. A cat keeps finding his way in. I've had to sweep a litter of kittens out once too many and find homes for them. Normally they stay in the garage, but on colder days they like being here. Warmer for them upstairs." Carl grimaced.

"So that was the cat?" John pointed upstairs, curiously. Carl just closed his eyes as if annoyed and nodded, lipping the words 'yeah.' Turning, John looked around, poking his head back in through the living room. "You don't mind if I go see, do you?" He pointed, walking backwards into the living room. The man shook his head, a smile on his face.

"Not at all, come on." He walked past John and the girls, leading him back through the good sized living area to another room just off the other side of it. It looked to be an office with quite a many books stuffed onto the book shelves. John stopped, his mouth agape as he looked at the shelves. "Ah, the study." Carl smiled. "All of these books were here when my father bought the place. Some were burnt along the edges but all completely useable." He explained. John looked around, then stopped, spotting a book on the floor. Walking over he picked it up and searched for it's original position, but it was impossible. All of the books were un-categorized. Something he'd have to fix when he moved in.

"Whoever lived here before sure didn't know how to organize." John shot, his nose crinkling from the dust. "I mean look at these...encyclopedias?" He looked at them confused. "Are these encyclopedias? Anyway, they're pulled away from their set. IAMSHERLOCK." He laughed a little. "Watch out Harry, the ghost is trying to communicate with encyclopedias." He teased looking back at his sister.

"Oh bugger off." She glared at him. Another thud sounded upstairs, making them jump, but this time, Harry kept quiet, her eyes closed.

"That's right." John pulled away, turning to face a door on the opposite side of the room. "Let's see what we can't do about that cat." He grinned. Turning Carl outstretched his arm, placing it behind John's shoulders. Pulling the door open he ushered the doctor upstairs.

The upstairs was about as big as the downstairs. A master bedroom, a large bathroom with a shower and a guest bedroom. And just off the guest room was a small guest office, both with a wrap around balcony that overlooked the water.

"Wow," John looked around in awe, then found out where the cat could have been coming from. The balcony door was open, the sheer white curtains fluttering in the ocean breeze. The rooms were beautiful.

"The master and the guest bedrooms were the first to be rebuilt." Carl explained. "My father aimed to make this look as similar to the original house as possible." He didn't move in past the door, leaning against the wall.

"It's a lovely-" he stopped, his eyes falling on a charred human skull. "Is that a skull?" He pointed, freezing a bit.

"Yeah, my father always went on about how genius the last owner of the house was. Apparently they worked together." The man explained, seeming lost in the history.

"Worked together?" He looked at him confused.

"My father was 50 when he had me, mum was 23. Died of old age my dad did. He went on and on about this place. 'Belonged to the most brilliant mind in London' said he." His eyes skimmed the room. "Shame, I find half of this stuff to be trash." He turned to head out the door, but the door slammed shut, catching his pinky. He gasped, pulling his hand back, finger going to his mouth. "Bloody wind!" He snarled.

"Are you alright?" John questioned, looking at him concerned.

"Fine," the man muttered after a minute. "Let's go then, I'll show you the master bedroom and the bathroom." He pushed the door open angrily, stomping out. John heard a light, whispering giggle behind him, a deeper voice. He looked back at Harry, a smile on his face. She was snickering too.

"Come on, our haunted tour is almost over." He motioned before stepping out into the hall, making his way to the master bedroom. It was a little bigger than the guest room with a walk in closet. Again there was a small study attached to it, both having a door leading to the balcony. He looked around. It was furnished similar to the other room except this one had a very large bed in it. It was old looking, kind of fancy. He walked over and sat on it. "Rather ritzy." He commented. It was a bit firm, but fluffy.

"Custom made mattress, the owner had a sleeping problem so he paid money to have a mattress made for him." Carl explained.

"Was the owner wealthy?" John looked at him curious, bouncing a bit on the bed. He felt the cloth of his pants tighten around his thighs, stopping him.

"Fairly wealthy. Came from a wealthy family. Took his share of his money to buy this house. Although he didn't buy much to put in it." Carl explained. John nodded, laying back on the bed.

"It's comfortable, but again, so is every Sealy mattress I've laid on." He smiled. "Not bad." He pushed himself up. Suddenly this small black cat barged in, head in the air as if looking for something. It rubbed on Carl first in which he booted it away gently. Obviously not a cat person. "Hey there." John smiled. The cat purred, running at him. It climbed up the side of the bed before forcing itself into John's lap. John laughed, petting it. "A stray? She's awfully friendly for being a stray." He itched her chin. In a matter of seconds the cat was purring loud enough to hear throughout the room.

"I don't know enough about it. All I know is it's always here and it always has kittens." He muttered. "Can I show you the rest of the house?" He hinted, wanting to get it over with. John noticed the sudden change in attitude. Could someone really hate a cat that much?

Grabbing the cat John put it on the bed and got up, hurrying to follow the man out of the room so they could look at the rest of the house. The cat followed, meowing at them, over and over again.

"Mouthy little girl." Harry commented, pulling her hair out of her face to look down and back at it. The cat sat in the middle of the hall, a few steps back, looking up as if looking at another person. Her smile faded a bit as she looked in the space the cat began circling. Swallowing she turned, hesitant to take her eyes off that spot as she followed.

"This is the bathroom. There's another one just like it downstairs just off the living room." Carl explained. There was a claw foot tub large enough for two people to lay beside each other and stretch out. A shower was fastened to it. It was a very open bathroom, large white. Older tile was laid down across the floor, the walls covered with white wallpaper. A large sink and counter pressed against the wall. There was plenty of space to store towels and belongings on the shelves along the wall and an entire wall was opened up. Completely made of glass with a door leading out onto the final stretch of balcony.

"Bathroom lacks a little privacy." John noted, looking out the window over the ocean. "I'll have to get some blinds for it." He muttered, watching the waves roll back and forth before looking back at Carl. "How much does this place cost?"

That was the question that brought a smile to the mans face. Someone was considering the place after years of people saying they didn't want to live in a place that was haunted. "127,000 pounds." John raised his eyebrows, whistling.

"Not bad for a place like this. The electricity has been replaced and the plumbing is good?" He looked back out the window.

"Everything is perfect. Passed inspection with flying colors, and if you need someone to repair something just call me. I know this place like the back of my hand." He smiled.

"Why's it so cheap then?" John asked finally, turning away from the distraction. The man frowned shaking his head.

"I'm paying taxes on a house no one is interested in and I'm not living in it. So I'm paying money on a place that's just sitting there." He admitted. John nodded, understanding.

"How soon do you want payment?" John turned looking at him. Harry's head snapped from the meowing cat, still walking circles in the hall to her brother. Her heart leapt. She didn't want John to move in, the house putting her off a bit. She didn't like it.

"Anytime you're ready." He smiled, extending an arm. John nodded, making his way out of the room, his eyes falling on the cat.

"What a mouthy cat." He smiled. Bending down he picked it up, holding it to his chest.

"Not very smart." Carl admitted, his nose crinkling. "Whoever owns it must be an idiot too-" turning the corner, his hand on the railing he tripped, falling down the flight of stairs. Harry and Clara ran over, all three of their jaws dropping as they watched the man roll and splay across the floor at the bottom.

"Oh my god!" John ran down the steps, holding the cat tight so he wouldn't bounce it too much. "Bloody hell are you alright?" He placed the cat on the floor before bending down, giving he man a quick look over. It didn't seem like he'd broken anything.

Carl groaned, starting to push himself up. John grabbed his arm, helping to haul him to his feet, brushing him off. "Damn," he groaned, his back cracking a bit as he straightened up. "Damn cat."

"But John was holding the cat." Harry said, sharing a look with Clara at the top of the stairs. Carl looked back at her, fixing his shirt before grunting.

"Then I guess I'm just clumsy. Anyway," he slowly hobbled to the desk, pulling out the chair to sit down. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out some folder documents. Unfolding them he grabbed a pen from his other pocket and started filling them out. "You can pay for it all at once or pay for it in installments." He looked at him. "However easy it is for you." John nodded, taking the papers once Carl had finished writing, reading them over.

"I have 3,000 available right now, I get access to the account my wife set up in a few days. It's on a hold. I can give you the rest then." John said, his eyes skimming across the documents to make sure there were no hidden deals. Carl nodded.

"Sounds good to me." He muttered. He watched, his fingers drumming on the desk a bit, his face twisting as the pain from falling down the stairs kicked in. Taking the pen John signed all of the necessary areas before sliding the papers and pen back to him. Smiling Carl took the pen and signed the final signature place. Tucking the pen back into his pocket he held out his hand, a warm smile on his face. "Welcome home, John Watson."