I have been retired for several years from the work I did for the Spiritualist Association of Great Britain, but occasionally something will crop up which needs expert advice.
Such a thing happened this year on May 1st. While walking to the shops I often cut through a narrow alley way in the old quarter, and I passed an old big Georgian house surrounded by a high wall. The only place you can see the whole view of the house is through the tall iron gates and I noticed two Christmas trees still adorned with colored lights aglow in each of the front windows. Why would these trees still be lit in May?
I opened the gates and walking up to the house. There was no noise or signs of life, but a feeling came over me something was very wrong. Going round the back I saw a window which was covered with a mass of black flies. I knew a body was in there. As I tried to look through a crack in the back door the smell was just awful.
I could tell from the development of the flies the body had been there some time. The back door showed recent marks too small for a crowbar, the marks on the door looked like it had been forced with a big screwdriver. On pushing in the door, a pile of goods was left just inside, and someone had defecated in the hallway.
I rushed home and rang the police, alerting them that Lantern Lodge had been burgled over the Christmas period, possibly entered with a large screwdriver. The burglar was piling his items by the main door and had been surprised by the elderly owner, whom he killed. Young inexperienced burglars in the anxiety of being caught with often lose their bowels
and this could be seen in the hall. It was black in color, which indicated blood in the stool caused by internal bleeding.
Two police came and arrested me. At the police station they kept barking questions at me, and they were very unpleasant. It was decided I should be taken to Lantern Lodge under the supervision of the homicide officers.
I told him there was a body inside and to not open the door, as the flies will get out. He asked me “How do you know all this?” and I answered it was the Christmas trees.
At that moment saw a misty shape – the elderly owner, who spoke to me. I told the three policemen the owner was asleep just after Christmas. He heard a noise and got up, surprising the young man, who immediately attacked him with a screwdriver. He said the intruder was tall, thin and had a wispy beard and heavy suntan. The police sergeant said ” That’s nonsense! Take him back and charge him.”
The next couple of hours of being shouted at and bullied were terrifying. I was threatened that I would spend many years in prison. But, if I confessed now, they would do what they could for me. I was told to sign a blank sheet of paper. Then the plain clothes officer came in and whispered something to the sergeant. He said a young man was caught trying to sell a pair of silver candle sticks from the burglary and arrested. The suspect was in the custody suite complaining of pain from a stomach ulcer. Shortly after, I was freed.
The experience affected me badly. I no longer take the short cut through the old quarter’s alley way. I no longer want to see the Georgian house or the gentle elderly ghost of the owner.
T. Stokes “Happy Palmistry”
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