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A Haunted House (lyttlejoe)

A Haunted House

"All I can tell you is he was excited about tomorrow's election and wanted to make one final house call to stump for votes."

"My men have searched the house top to bottom. Royston Hughes is not in there."

"But he has to be! He never came out!"

"You know, Mr. Dryden, I'm not a fan of political game playing. If this is some elaborate scheme to affect the election then you will find my patience quite limited."

"This is no election ploy and I resent the accusation. Royston Hughes is a consummate politician. He has no need to 'play' games."

"Excuse me sir, one of the men found this on a cellar step; it's a sliver cufflink."

"Do you recognize this, Mr. Dryden?"

"It's Royston's - he was wearing them today."

"Were you in this house by any chance, Mr. Dryden?"

"No! I told you what took place. Are you accusing me now of putting this inside?"

"I'm not accusing you of anything. It was a simple question."

"I fail to see the relativity between his disappearance and my actions . . ."

"So you were inside the house."

"I- he likes to have me with him to take notes when he speaks to constituents."

"So what happened, Mr. Dryden?"

"I don't know! So help me, I don't know."

"Calm down and tell me what occurred when you went inside."

"First of all the door was open. He called out but there was no answer. We stepped into the vestibule and he called again."

"Go on."

"It was on the wall across the room . . . we could see it from the doorway."

"What was on the wall?"

"A painting- a watercolour."

"Yes? And?"

"Royston just- he seemed to go into a trance! He went right to the painting and- and . . ."

"And what, Mr. Dryden!"

"He- started to step into it!"

"What, you mean he was attempting to destroy it?"

"No! He was- he was entering the painting. I ran to him and grabbed his sleeve but I couldn't stop him. I pulled that cufflink off in the struggle and it bounced through the cellar doorway."

"Hold on just a minute here. Are you telling me he went inside that painting? Have you been drinking, sir?"

"No. It's the truth so help me."

***

"Constable, go inside and check the painting on the wall in the living room . . . a watercolour."

"Check it, sir?"

"Yes. Tell me what you see. Look behind it. Check the wall for hidden passages."

"Hidden passages, sir? It's an outside wall. There's no place for a passage to go."

"Constable, just take your arsenal of architectural facts and go and do as I ask."

"Yes, sir."

***

"Now, Mr. Dryden, while we wait for my constable why don't you tell me what really happened? Was there a falling out between you? Something political. Personal?"

"No. I admired Royston, we were close friends."

"Can you not see how difficult it is to believe your story? I mean- he walked into a painting and disappeared?"

"I think it's haunted."

"The painting!"

"The house. I think the house is haunted and something drew Royston to the door. It was a whim. We were all done stumping yet he felt he had to do this one final call."

"Mr. Dryden haunted houses are myths. Symbols of fright for Halloween children.

"Uh- uh . . . sir? I think you'd better come inside."

"What is it, Constable?"

"You have to see for yourself, sir"

"Wait there, Dryden."

***

"Pardon me, officer do you know where the detective on this case is? I've been waiting here quite a while now since he went inside."

"There's nobody in the house, sir."

"What? Of course, there is. He and another officer went in to look at the painting in the living room."

"I locked it all up myself, sir. The place is empty."

***

"Dryden! Dryden, are you alright?"

"Huh . . . what happened? Royston! You're here!"

"Of course. You passed out, man."

"But- but I saw you go - go into that painting!"

"Well yes, I walked over to admire it because the owner of this place painted it. Have to make points where you can."

"No- you went- where are the police?"

"Shhhhh, I know it's a god awful picture but I don't think we need the police. Let's go, I think this whole day has been too much for you."

"Where are you taking me? Wait! Royston!"

"It's okay, Dryden. You'll be fine in there."

***

"Mr. Royston Hughes, he was campaigning on your street. You never saw him?"

"Sorry son, been busy paintin'."

"Hmm, I see . . . is that a bunch of men in a field of broccoli?"

"Yes, it is. Would you like a closer look?"

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