The Grimm Dossier

Chapter 21 - The Red Scarf - Part I

West Coast
Devonshire, Dartmoor
St George, Walsh family home
5 November 1898, 02:11 hrs.

For days she had slept fitfully. No, actually it wasn't just days.... it had been weeks. A little over two to be exact. Ever since Marie's body had been found under all that bad luck, it hadn't given Sandra a moment's peace. Even if Marie had always thought of herself as something better, just because she had been born as the daughter of the village chiefs, she had still been her friend. She still couldn't believe what had happened to her. What worried her much more, however, was something else entirely. It was a fantasy, perhaps even a pipe dream. Actually, she, Sandra Walsh, was not that superstitious.

But ever since Walter the landlord had died so suddenly, and on All Hallows Eve too, this thought just wouldn't let her go. The talk about not upsetting the old Jäger family because they might put a curse on you.... was nonsense. Of course, it was. And yet... Three people were dead. It hadn't been long since the Father had thrown the old Jaeger out of his chapel. Now he was dead. Marie, too, often publicly mocked her roots and Walter the landlord was always selling some kind of food to the old woman at completely horrendous prices. She had overheard the old woman complaining a few weeks ago that the prices were too high and they could hardly afford anything anymore. Could it all be a coincidence? 

Marie's accident had been so strange. It wouldn't let her go. There was endless gossip about the Jäger family. About how they had fled Germany. That the old Mrs Jäger was a witch and wanted to take revenge for the death of her son and his wife, who had died in a fire here in St. George. To this day, no one knew what caused the devastating fire at the house on the edge of the village.

Sandra had once heard two old washerwomen whisper that it might have been set. But that was all very far-fetched. As was the claim that the old hag was a witch. It was true, her house was out of the way and she really did seem a bit creepy and cranky. But to Sandra, she had always been just an old lady. But she had not been the "leader" and nobody dared to mess with Marie. So she insulted the old lady in Marie's presence, harassed the little Jäger and insulted everyone else in the village whom Marie could not stand. But now Sandra tossed and turned constantly at night, wondering whether she shouldn't perhaps go to Mr Baltimore with her fears and suspicions. 

At the same time, she was sure that he wouldn't take her seriously or think she was crazy... These thoughts, swinging back and forth, accompanied Sandra into a restless sleep.

She dreamt of bad luck and graves. Of Marie reproaching her and trying to drag her down to her by her dress. When Sandra awoke with her heart pounding wildly, she blinked in confusion and drowsiness into the gloom of her room. Through the gap between her curtains, the moon cast a narrow strip of light into her chamber.

Sandra was about to turn around again and snuggle back under the covers when a noise caught her attention. Scratching and scraping on wood. Sandra paused and listened. Fatigue made her thoughts heavy, but the sound remained. It sounded like it was scratching in different parts of the house.... then it came from the direction of the kitchen. I wonder if Brow, her dog was trying to get at the supplies again. Lately, he had been kind of strange and constantly restless. A sigh escaped from inside her as she threw back the covers. Then she shuffled her feet out of bed and slipped sleepily into the coarse slippers with thin leather soles. A hiss followed the rustle of matches from which she lit the candle on her bedside table with one of the square sticks. The young girl's slender fingers groped for the rounded handle, slipped her index and middle fingers through it and lifted the rough candle plate. As soon as the warming blanket no longer enveloped her, Sandra felt the coolness of the night.