Pacing slowly back and forth in front of the rose bushes, Michaels bowed his head in thought, reaching out with his mind, his spirit, looking for anything to touch. Slowly he began to see flashes of activity, as if he were watching a film in reverse with large breaks in the editing. He could see the scene investigators securing the area, the arrival of the detective team, the woman lying on the ground on the edge of death. There was more there but it was unclear. Detective Morgan stood off to his side, watching him with a sense of speculation and morbid curiosity. The career officer, on the force for more than twenty years, wasn’t sure what to make of Ian Michaels. According to his captain, the department had used him on several other cases in the past but this was the first time that Morgan was involved. He thought of himself as a pretty liberal guy but this was pushing up against his limits. He had watched some of the late-night television shows with psychic detectives, even had some cases come across his desk that seemed to have had real contributions from them, but he had always been skeptical, as probably ninety-nine percent of the population was. Now, here he was, front and center with the man himself, trying to keep an open mind and hoping he was succeeding.
After circling the scene for about ten minutes, Michaels approached the detective. “As I understand it,” he said, “you and your partner were the first officers on the scene, is that correct?”
Morgan nodded. “The call came in around four in the morning. A neighbor was out walking her dog when she saw the broken window and the rose bushes. Once she saw the blood that pretty much did her in; she ran screaming into the building and then called 9-1-1. It took the operator five minutes to get the whole story from her. By then we were almost here.”
Michaels chuckled slightly at that. “Yeah, it doesn’t matter how many movies or how much television someone watches; when they see it for real it puts them over the edge.” He looked back at the crime scene and then said, “I’ve read your report and I’ve read the report of the other investigators, but I’d like to get a breakdown directly from you if you don’t mind. It makes my work a little easier to hear it from the source.”
“Sure, no problem, “ replied Morgan. “We showed up a few minutes after the old lady got off the phone. About ten minutes later two other patrol cars arrived; the two officers went inside to calm her down and take a statement. Being the ranking officer and only detective on the scene, it was my responsibility to secure the area until the science geeks could get in here and check it out.” Michaels could tell he wasn’t terribly impressed with their crime scene investigators. “While I waited,” Morgan continued, “I walked around the perimeter of the building, checking to see if there was anyone around that maybe shouldn’t have been. Nothing was moving so I made my way back up front. After about half an hour they showed up and started picking through the pieces outside. I took one of them inside to Ms. Ross’ apartment to start working from the inside out.”
Morgan pulled a pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket, shaking one out of the pack before putting it away. Cupping his hand around it to hold off the cold breeze, he lit up before continuing his story. “It took about three hours for the techs to finish their business; by then the sun was up, the old woman was off to play bingo or whatever she does and I was left alone to start working the case.”
At this point, Michaels held up his hand to stop the detective where he was. “Would you mind taking me inside and walking me through what you did next? I’d like to get a better feel on things.”
Detective Morgan squirmed a little bit, still unsure of what to think of this guy. But, since he was the lead on the case, and he knew the case was stuck, he tried to be open-minded. “Sure thing. We’ve got the apartment locked up as well as taped off but I’ve got the keys. I kind of figured you’d want to go in and, well, do whatever it is you do.”
Michaels smiled at the detective, noting his discomfort. “Believe me,” he said. “You’re not the first one who’s thought ‘Who the hell is this quack and why am I stuck with him?’ I’ve worked cases all over the state and with probably half the detectives in your department and I got the same look from them all. I wouldn’t be here, though, if their minds hadn’t changed by the time the cases were over.”
Morgan stared sheepishly into the distance, purposely not making eye contact with him. “Don’t get me wrong, sir, you’ve got a solid reputation with the department. I’m just, well, not spiritual or anything.”
“That’s ok, “ Michaels replied. “It’s not a prerequisite. Just answer my questions and tell me what happened, and I’ll put the pieces together from there.”
Morgan nodded his head and said, “No problem, Mr. Michaels. That’s my job. To be honest with you, this case gives me the creeps, and not just because you’re here.” He paused, trying to organize the thoughts churning in his head into words. “The really strange part, other than the fact that there was no body, of course, is that there was a perfect imprint of her body in the dewy grass but no footprints leading away. She was twenty feet away from the sidewalk so it’s not like she jumped to it. Plus, there was no blood trail, just the blood under the window. It’s like somebody wished her away or something.”
Smiling, Ian said, “Let’s go take a look inside and see if we can track down the genie, then.”