Sounds of a Ghostly Murder

The House of White

Mr.Hudson stood impatiently looking at his pocket watch, standing in front of the house. The crisp snow crunching beneath his feet as he waited for the investigators to arrive. But thankfully a cabby soon pulled up and out came Casey and Matias, dressed in their usual get up but with thick scarves and gloves on.

Mr.Hudson heaved a heavy sigh of relief as he wiped his brow. "Good morning gentlemen," he said in greeting. "I was half afraid you and your chairman had decided to cancel our engagement today."

"Nonsense," Matias replied with a smile, holding a bag full of equipment. "We wouldn't miss this for all of England. Now where's the house?" And he and Casey both looked round to see which of the houses in this street was the forbidding haunted place.

"Why, were standing right in front of it," Mr.Hudson gestured to in front of their eyes, and Casey and Matias were both suddenly shocked to see it.

The haunted, foreboding building was a large three story townhouse. The windows inside were as black as pitch and nothing could be seen inside. The only spot of color they could see was the front door, and it had been painted to a blood red. But what had startled our heroes is that they in fact did not see the house at first. It was painted such a bright white color, that in the surrounding snow-covered buildings and with the frosty, cloudy, white sky, that it had completely blended in with it's surroundings.

"Oh! Well," Casey stammered, "it's rather not quite what we were expecting. But I do suppose any ghost can haunt any place."

The lawyer nodded in agreement. "Y-yes I do suppose that's correct. But come. Let me show you the inside." With that, he whipped out a key, and led the two investigators inside the bleak House.

The door, once unlocked, squealed loudly with rusty hinges as the lawyer opened it. Inside was a small foyer room, with the stairs leading up to the second floor. To their right stood the living room, and to their right stood the dining room. All the furniture was still in the house, but all had been draped in white sheets. The air in the place was cold and damp, so cold that it sent shudders in all of the three men.

They came upon the fireplace in the living room, and after finding a box of matches, a roaring fire was soon burning in the grate. The three men grabbed the dusty sheet covered chairs and sat.

Casey took out his notepad and pen, and Matias said after a pause,"Now Mr.Hudson, we'd like to ask a couple questions that may aid me and my partner in solving the mystery and getting rid of whatever is haunting the house. What can you tell us about the history of this house?"

"Well for starters, this house was built rather some fifty years ago or more. It was the home to Madam and Mister Wayson, my clients aunt and uncle. Our law firm had been looking over this house ever since they had moved in. But last year befell a great tragedy."

"And what tragedy was that?" Matias asked inquisitively.

"Well, we did not like to disclose this information to our buyers, but if you must know..a murder had been taken place here."

"Really now? And who was the victim?" Casey asked, writing everything down on his little notepad.

"Why Madam Wayson herself. And her killer was none other than her own husband, Mister Wayson. The details about the murder, and the motive, I am unsure of. But I do know that Mister Wayson had not escaped the law, and was hanged at the gallows about five months ago.

After a search of his belongings, we had found his Will, and it had stated he had left the property to his nephew, Gabriel Wayson. We had some difficulty in finding him during those months, but soon had found him, living with a wife in Liverpool. After the matter of locating the heir, all that was left was to sell the property to a new owner, since Gabriel Wayson was not interested in keeping the property."

"And that was when the trouble began?" Matias inquired.

The lawyer nodded his head. "Y-yes. That was when it started. As pertaining to the code of our firm, we allow buyers to have a trial period of one night in this house, to see if they like it enough to stay. But every time a buyer has come to claim the property, they do not stay the full night. And each day after that they would come to my office and return the keys, looking pale and shaken up."

"I see..very interesting. And you claimed yesterday that each potential owner claimed of hearing noises. Is that correct?"

The lawyer nodded again. "Yes. But they have never told me what exact noises they heard. They're too afraid to say a word. Whatever they had heard, had sealed their lips tightly."

"And does your client, Mr. Wayson, know about these incidents?" Casey asked, flipping the next page over.

"He does indeed. But he does not believe the stories they tell. He is inclined to think that they all back out of the deal when learning the price, and let their imaginations get the better of their minds. He has told me numerous times that he does not believe in bogies or ghosts. But.." and here the lawyer paused a moment to wipe his sweating brow again.

"Even as a learned college student myself, I know when enough stories accumulate, from many different people, you cannot doubt what you hear any longer." He soon finished his tale and sighed, leaning back in the dusty chair.

Casey put away his notepad and Matias thought for a moment, before at last saying, "Well Mr.Hudson, your story is very interesting. And if you would permit us, we would like to spend a night here and see what all the fuss is."

To Casey's apprehension, the deal was made.

The rest of that morning and day was spent in searching the house top to bottom, checking every room and closet. There was however, no furniture in the second or third floor, as that had probably already been sold off. And each room and each closet bore no possible way a thing, or rather, a living thing could hide. All that remained was the attic.

Upon opening the ceiling latch, Casey reached up and pulled down the rickety old stairs. "You had better go up, Matias. I Uh.. do not wish to get my new ascot dusty." He said, making some faint excuse as to not look in the creepy dark attic space.

Matias rolled his eyes with a smile, knowing his friend's every excuse by now, but arming himself with a candle, he mounted the creaking old wooden stairs.

He poked his through the trap door, and behold one of the most cluttered attics he had ever seen. "By Jove! The original owners of this place must've been hoarders! This attic is full of junk! I can barley see where the walls begin and end!"

Indeed it was very cluttered. Boxes were stacked high as towers, and old junk lay scattered here and there. There was even a bicycle in the dim corner, and an old wooden dresser. That strangely enough had a lock on it.

Matias was about to venture a bit higher to get a better look, when all at once, the rotting wood of the stairs could no longer hold his weight. With a cry, he fell right down.

But such is fortune to have a dear, and tall, friend at your side. Casey, having a deep feeling that something would go wrong, was right under him and caught him in his arms. "Easy now! I've got you, friend!"

The rotted stairs fell to a crumble on the wood planked floor, as Matias was held close to Casey's breast. He sighed of great relief, "thanks old friend! That was quite a save."

"You must be more careful, Matias," Casey replied, rather scornfully.

Matias laughed, "I don't recall you being my mum. Now do be a good chap and uh, put me down."

Casey's cheeks suddenly flushed red as he realized he was still holding his friend about a foot off the ground. A babble of apologies burst on his lips as he set his friend down.

Matias only smiled and patted his back. "It's alright, chum! I ain't gonna hurt ya! Now come on, let's go out and get some supper and we'll make our way back here before dark."

With keys in hand, the two went down the creaking steps, and after Casey had locked the door behind them, they set out to a nearby restaurant, to await the evening.