Chapter 3

Sam was standing in front of the house again. She felt that she needed some fresh air after her short visit in the basement. Bailey was still down there with the crime scene investigators who were back here again. John was searching through the whole house looking for that book he found and maybe for the intruder that they suspected in the building.

Soon some officers came out with a black bag that obviously hid the corpse. Bailey was with them and he stepped to Sam.

"You should go back to the police station! Ask Grace if she found out anything and she should also examine this corpse."

"All right, but I'd like to talk to John first."

Actually, she had a bad feeling about the house and wanted to see him coming out. She didn't have to wait long because in a few minutes John appeared in the front-door, cursing under his nose.

"I guess you didn't find anything!" Bailey said.

"I can't understand this. I saw that album…"

"I'll ask the CSI's to go over the house again. The drawer arrived, by the way" Bailey nodded at a middle-aged man standing next to a police-car.

"Then I'll go and talk to my witness" he didn't sound very enthusiastic about it.

"Okay, I'll find out if there's a software at the police that can reconstruct the face of our skeleton-friend" said Bailey and they departed and everybody went on the job at hand.

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John stopped in front of the house the crazy woman said would be hers. Only one half of the house seemed to be livable, the garden was neglected, almost like a jungle and in the garden a man was sitting in a folding chair. He perfectly fit in the milieu: he was wearing only an undervest and jeans that were everything but clean, had a beard and long, greasy hair.

"Excuse me, sir…"

The man looked up and frowned.

"What do you want?" he asked in an almost hostile tone.

"John Grant, FBI" and he showed his badge. "I'm looking for a young woman, who said that she lived here."

"What did she do this time?"

"Nothing, sir. I'd like to speak with her about the murders that happened in the street."

"She told you her ghost-story, right?" without waiting for an answer he continued. "She's totally crazy, you shouldn't listen to her… but come in…" he added then indifferently.

He didn't even stand up to greet his visitor.

John opened the creaking garden-gate and stepped into the neglected garden.

"Where…?" he couldn't finish the question because the man shouted.

"Val! Come here! You have a visitor!"

"Thanks" John said dryly.

The girl appeared instantly in the house-door but there she stopped. She still wore the worn-out pullover but her hair was a little bit more ordered, she bid it into a pony-tail.

"Can we talk now?" John asked.

The girl glimpsed at the man who just shrugged.

"Come in!" she said and stepped aside to let him in.

John was led in a kitchen that was almost as ratty as the garden and it was very hot in there.

"I have to ask you a few administrative questions first" he took out his notepad to write down the necessary information.

"O.K. I know how this goes…" the girl said and leaned against the counter.

"All right then! What's your name?" John just stayed standing in the middle of the kitchen as none of the chairs seemed to be stable enough.

"Valerie Barker."

"How old are you?"

"Twenty."

Actually she looked younger to John. She would perfectly fit in a high-school class… in a different outfit of course!

"And the man outside? Is he your father?"

"No way!" she answered with a shocked expression. "He's my uncle. He's… he's not very nice…" Then she looked at John worriedly. Actually this was the first time that she looked him in the eyes. "Was he rude to you?"

"Don't worry!" he answered smiling. "I can handle a little rudeness. How long have you been living here?"

"Six months or so… I didn't want to move in here but Uncle Phil inherited this house and we didn't have anywhere else to go after we had to leave the circus…" she spoke quickly.

"You worked for a circus?"

"Yes, we traveled with a… you know … traveling circus. Uncle Phil is a magician" she added then in a mysterious tone.

"Really?" The man outside didn't look like an artist at all.

"Yes and he was really good before he started to… you know…" she imitated drinking. "I helped during the performances."

"What was the name of the circus?"

"The last one we worked at was called the "Magical Caravan"… Stupid name, if you ask me… don't you think so?"

"Yeah, quite. So, can you tell me in details what you know about the murders?"

She became more excited in an instant.

"I was walking outside and heard the screaming. It…it can be often heard f…from that house, I just wanted to have a look… so I went into the backyard and searched for a window. I've been there often but I never went inside because he told me not to go in... The old man was in the salon. He was very scared from the ghost. It was there and it was hovering over the ground and pushed the old man to the wall. Then… it dipped …dipped into … his chest and … and " her words became more and more dim for John in every sense. She was gabbling quicker and quicker and started spacing in the small kitchen. "It tore out his heart… but the heart was still beating and the old man was still alive… and then it… it… turned and…and… looked at me…"

John knew that he had to treat her carefully.

"Sorry, but I have to ask this: are you sure that the murderer was a ghost?"

"Yes. Could you imagine anybody else hovering over the ground?" she asked back rationally.

"Eh…No. Look… could you show me where and how exactly this happened?"

"Of course, of course... But you can ask the question steady on!"

"Which question?"

"I know that you think me mad… and you're probably right…" her right hand found its way to her hair and she was pulling at it. "I have paper about it, after all, you know…" she changed back to her less agitated tone - not as if this way she didn't sound agitated – and she smiled slightly.

"You were treated in a hospital?"

"Hospital? I'd rather call it a nuthouse. They say I'm schizophrenic…" she added almost proudly. "I'm under guardianship... Uncle Phil used to be my guardian but he didn't take me to the sessions so now I have one from the social service, Miss Dillan... she visits every Monday and every Thursday she takes me to Doctor Stevenson. She also brings my medicine by and counts the pills every time she's here..."

"I see. So it's possible" he asked carefully "that you didn't see what you think you saw…"

"I … took my pills that evening" she obviously tried to make a good impression. "I don't take them every day, which is wrong due to my doctor, but that day I did take them… and I know… usually … when I'm hallucinating… real people are often blurry at the edges you know... my hallucinations seem to be more...real than the real people…"

"Am I blurry to you too?" John asked while he tried to make some sense of what the girl was telling him.

"I can't really explain it... it's just like a light... around you..."

"All right, it's not that important, let's get back to the murders. So, you think you could show me how that old man was killed?"

"Yes... his name was Joe..."

"You talked to him?"

"Yes, I saw him that night on the street and told him not to sleep in the house but he didn't listen to me..."

"And you could describe the murderer? I mean the ghost?"

"Yes, but you can call him a murderer if you want..."

"Thank you. Won't your uncle mind if you come with me?"

"He isn't very interested in where I'm going but he doesn't like police officers very much."

"Yes, I realized that much."

"To tell the truth he doesn't like others either. He always shouts at Miss Dillan to go away... But she never does, she's quite tough and sometimes very scary."

Meanwhile John managed to shepherd the girl out of the house. Uncle Phil was nowhere to be seen in the garden, and they walked down the street to the crime-scene. Valerie was talking constantly and John often had to turn back her thoughts to the subject. She talked about the circus, about somebody called Spider, about her uncle and her time in the mental institute. What she told about the murder indicated that she really saw something because every detail passed to the traces they found. She gave a good and detailed description but John couldn't even guess what it wasreallyworth.

She only went silent when they were walking back to the Barker's house.

"I'd like to talk to your uncle as well" John said when they stopped in front of the garden.

The girl visibly tensed at this.

"It isn't a good idea…" she said under her nose.

"And why is that?"

"Because... because…" she obviously tried to find a good reason. "…he's rude..."

"I told you: I can't be scared away with a little rudeness."

"But he's..."

"Valerie" John stopped and turned to the girl "does your uncle hurt you in any way?"

"What do you mean?" she seemed frankly confused by the question.

"Does he beat you? Or..." he thought about how to ask this without frightening the girl away. "Does he touch you in a way he shouldn't?"

"No. But… but he's a magician" she said this as if it would explain everything.

"A magician" he repeated in an astonished tone.

"Yes, he can do things…"

"What kind of things?"

"Bad things."

This conversation started to be rather absurd but John couldn't think of the proper question.

"Bad magic" the girl added then without another question.

"Like turning you into a frog?"

"It wouldn't be that bad to be a frog..." she answered to that.

"I don't agree on that one."

Val didn't answer she just opened the garden gate.

"He can summon evil spirits" she whispered then without looking at John.

Great, more ghosts! Of course he didn't say it loud.

"I still would like to talk to him" he insisted instead.

Val shrugged and rushed into the house leaving the FBI agent alone in the garden.

"Where were you so long?" John heard Barker's voice from the kitchen.

"She was with me" John said as he walked into the house as well.

"Ah, FBI" his tone was full of disgust.

"Yes. Agent Grant. Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Can I say no?"

"Yes, but then I have to summon you officially to the police station!"

"Then ask your questions..." Barker growled.

"Did you hear something during those nights when the murders happened?"

"No."

"Your niece said that she was out of the house. Didn't you wake up when she left?"

"She always walks around! I'm immune to it. If I weren't I were just as crazy as her!"

"So you didn't wake up?"

"Are you deaf or what?"

"Did you?"

"No!" Barker didn't exactly shout but was close to it.

"Were you ever in that house?" John however didn't even raise his voice.

"Nah... why the hell should I have gone there?"

"How long has your niece been living with you?"

"Since she was about twelve… I became her guardian when her mother died. She wasn't total nuts then, at least she was useful that time!"

"You mean during your shows?"

"Yes. So she talked about that too..."

"Yes. Is that a problem?"

"I'm not ashamed of my past!" he said almost defiantly.

"I will need to speak to Miss Barker a few more times, so please care for it that she's available!" he said taking no notice of Barker's outbursts.

The man just grunted in answer. John didn't know for sure whether he abused the girl in any way, but he probably won't dare to touch her if he fears the FBI coming back.

He left after this warning and on the street he threw one last look at the haunted house… He had to admit that there was something creepy about that house...

"Great!" he mumbled to himself. "It seems paranoia is infecting!"

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"Did you find out something interesting?" Sam asked when John appeared in the office that they got from the local police for use. She and Bailey were discussing the case and waited for Grace to finish her investigation in the morgue.

"Yes! You can't teach a camel to kiss a dog..."

"What?"

"Never mind" and with a sigh he dropped the big amount of paper on a free desk. "I went to the library. That house is really famous… they have plenty of material about it. I asked the librarian to fax over the list of those who have made some kind of research on the building recently."

"Good idea" Bailey said.

"I'm not so sure. The librarian is at least one hundred. It will take ages till he does it. But until then I try to read these over."

"Give me some of them!" Sam volunteered and John obeyed delighted.

"I'll look after Grace and stop by the computer specialists" announced Bailey and left them alone with their reading material.

For some time they read in silence.

"The house was a brothel from 1897 to 1909" John said and Sam looked up.

"And what happened then?"

"There was a fire and however it didn't make too much damage they closed after it. Nobody wanted to work there…"

"Why is that?"

"Wait a minute" he turned a page and read it over quickly. "This says that there were murders in the area. This is like a Poe-story…"

"I didn't know you were interested in literature" Sam put in playfully.

"I'm very educated in this area, you would be surprised" he smiled but then went back to the story. "There was a mysterious stranger terrifying every decent citizen – just for your information this was cited from the article" he looked at her with a grin. "But seriously, some guy killed the prostitutes around here. They called him the Shadow because the police couldn't catch him and because due to some witnesses he wore a long black coat, a black mask and a black hat. He killed the women and cut out their hearts. The police had a suspect, they even arrested him but there wasn't enough evidence. Then the man they suspected disappeared from here and the murders stopped… but still the prostitutes didn't dare to come back again."

"Interesting. I guess our killer read this story as well and was inspired by it."

"But that man used a knife and not some mysterious weapon…"

"That weapon might not be that mysterious!" this comment was made by Grace who just came into the room.

"Did you finish the autopsy?"

"Yes. They all died to the extreme blood-loss, they suffered when their chest was torn open… and back to the weapon. It is made of metal and I would say it's something like a hook that is sharp and pointed at the same time and has at least three arms…" she imitated it with her hands. "I guess it's home-made."

"So he planned everything in details. Did he need much strength to use this special weapon?"

"Yes. It broke through the rib-cage and made great damage. He practically ripped out the heart. Yes, he definitely needed strength."

The conversation was stopped by Bailey.

"We have the reconstructed portrait of our corpse friend" announced he. "I will fax it over to George, maybe he can find out who this man was."

"Can we see it?" asked Sam.

"Here" he gave the picture over. John stood up and stepped behind Sam to throw a glance at the digital photo.

"Shit!"

Sam looked up and Bailey looked at John as well.

"What?"

"I can't believe it..." he said surprised.

"What?" asked Bailey again, but John went over to his desk and started to rummage around.

"Look at this!" He held up a drawn picture and the resemblance between the two pictures was unmistakable. "This was made after Valerie Barker's description."

"You are not serious!"

"Oh, I am! I don't know how this is possible, but she said that she saw this man in the house."

"I think we should talk again to this Miss Barker!" said Bailey.

"As I see it, there are two possibilities. One: she knows who did this… or she might even be our murderer…"

"I don't think so" John cut in. "She isn't organized enough to plan something like this and as Grace told the killer needs to be quite strong. That girl is short and skinny."

"Okay, she still could know who did it. Or the second option: somebody is playing a game and was wearing a mask during the killing…" she was chewing on her lower lip. "Is there a picture in that book of yours about the suspect?" she asked John.

"Till now I didn't find one, but I'll look after."

"What suspect?" asked Bailey who missed the whole story. Until John was searching Sam told the others about the old murder-case.

"Here it is!" John said triumphantly just when she finished. "And you can make a guess how he looked like."

"I guess he looked like our murderer does" murmured Bailey.

"Exactly" and he showed them the picture.

"So… our murderer is posing as a murderer who died decades ago."

"Or this Miss Barker saw the pictures of the murderer and made up this story."

"Or it is really the ghost of the old murderer..." John said in a grim voice trying to stay serious.

"I think we should take this as the last account!" Bailey said smiling. "Any suggestions for the next step?" he asked then.

John just shrugged, he was still watching the computer animated picture. Sam however was playing with her hair that usually meant that she was having an idea.

"I still think that the house is the key..." she referred to her conversation that they had with Bailey before. "We should concentrate on it because I suppose that our man is hanging around there quite often. He is haunting it if you like."

"You mean we should monitor it continuously?" asked Bailey.

"I mean we should spend the night there..."

"I've always liked horror-movies..." commented John dryly.

"I think this is quite a rational idea" Bailey said.

"I'll collect some stuff then!" volunteered John who was obviously fed up with reading through old articles and reports and was hungry for some action.

"Like your Ghostbuster-equipment?" asked Grace seriously.

"And maybe some hallowed water!" and with that he vanished.

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