There was a small red house on the outskirts of Wilstone. Its blue-gray roof had already darkened with time, and the porch had long since collapsed. It was in this house that Edward Pierreau, once a former private detective, lived. At the request of the police, he helped to investigate cases, but times passed, and his services soon lost their relevance, now he worked as a bookmaker in a private company on Walsh Street. He took bets on all horse races held in the summer and spring.
There were many spectators, which pleased Edward, because his salary depended on how many spectators came. And one evening, sitting at the table and making up the next list of participants in the race, he started from a phone call. The phone ring in the house echoed loudly.
– Damn, who else! He grumbled, headed for the mahogany table on which the telephone stood. He bought this table at a sale in Siouxstone, he got it almost for nothing. He picked up the phone and said:
– Hello!
«Hi, this is Vince,» came a voice from the other end of the phone.
– Ah, Vince hi, how are you?
«Well, I have something to do with you,» Vince said, from these words, Edward sucked under his stomach.
– What else is the matter? He asked in a trembling voice.
– This applies to your previous work as a detective. – Vince said and added:
– I will come in a couple of hours with papers on one case. – With these words, he hung up.
«But…» Edward wanted to say, but there were already beeps on the other end of the tube.
******
Even to the eight to the house Edward came a police car. From the street came the creak of the gravel, he looked out the window and heart loudly beating in his chest. Though he was with Vince good friends, but again work as a detective he didn’t want. The car door slowly began to open and there seemed red-head with Vince, and then he. Edward moved away from the window slowly and sighed. He looked around and trudged to open the door, unable to cross the threshold separating the living room and hallway, the doorbell rang.
– Go! – shouted at full lung power, the master of the house. He turned dog castle and opened the door. In the face the wind blew, which brought the fresh smell of baking, most likely baking Mrs. riddle.
Hey Ed! – Hello Vince.
Hey Vince, drowsily he said, and his eyes fell on a dark gray folder in the hands of Vince.
– I see you already noticed that I’m not empty handed, he said. – I do have one request, I need to find one person, I don’t know who he is, and how…
– Come in, come in. You’re not how much has not changed – commented Eduard. They went into the house, and Edward invited Vince into the living room.
– Tea? Coffee?
– No, thank you.
– Get to the point then.
– So, we recently arrested a serial sectarian murderer of bill hole, but during his detention, our staff came across another ritual murder, according to the expert, bill couldn’t kill those people, because we caught him in the ritual, someone at the same time performed a similar ritual, only in a different place. The body was still warm. Bill denies that he has an accomplice, and Sheriff Greenwood says that there is a copycat. Killed were Sarah Collins and Martha Wilson.
Martha… have heard from Edward opened his mouth, then he swallowed, nervously.
– Did you know her?
«Yes,» he said quietly. – She approached me to spy on her husband. She suspected that he loses money in poker, but as it turned out it is not, the money from the wages he was sent for treatment to his own brother, who was ill. After that she calmed down.
– And where is her husband?
– Died of cancer, he was twenty-five. Still so young.
– According to Linda of Marbo, about the Atelier, where there were killed, saw the guy who stood and waited, face naturally no one saw, and cameras too, no where no, ' said Vince.
And prints on the bodies not found?
– No, it seems he worked in gloves, ' said Vince.
Yes, it takes a serious turn, – summed up Edward. – I you want to find?
– I don’t know, where are the Satanists of the city, to ask them if any of them are fans of bill hole, said Vince.
– You want me to bring them to the sacrifice? – with a smile asked Edward.
– How much years you know, and you remained a good sense of humor, and they remain to this day, summed up Vince and said, – Well, agree?
– Well, – hard Edward breathed and reached for the TV remote. Vince noticed what was the TV remote, grey with a large crack and a faded logo of the brand, the numbers on the buttons were sometimes blurred.
«I wonder how old is that remote?» Vince came up with a stupid question.
There was a click and the screen of the same old TV «Sony» appeared news channel. Vince didn’t recognize, a house that they showed. This was the home of the owner of a textile factory al Masterson. After he went bankrupt, his life was not sweet, and a year later he committed suicide. He was found hanging people from the tax, when not received in time the payment for the house.
Is the house al, – said Edward. – He did not know.
– And what became of him?
– With whom? Al?
– No, Dom asked Vince.
Many times sold, but no one there did not stay long, as soon as people learned about what happened, they have not been able to be there, and in almost every issue of the newspaper, was to sell the house. Later he just left alone.
– And who put the house up for sale? asked Vince.
– A kind of Bureau «Salchows», the office the day after they are unable to sell the house, they were closed and the house was not anybody’s, back then when it was sold, ' replied Edward.
– And so, went home this company?
They bought out the relatives of ELA cheaper, and exhibited a more expensive, ' he replied and glanced at the TV screen. – Into that house. On the screen, the camera showed a closeup of time-blackened house with a sagging roof. The glass Windows were broken, and even had a broken window. But the walls were covered with paintings.
– Oh, Yes, there seem to be going Satanists, exclaimed Vince seeing pentagrams on the walls of the house.
And you want me to go? asked Edward.
– TC-s-p – shushed him and Vince turned louder the sound. On ekrene the reporter showed up.
The house that once belonged to al Marsten, was chosen by Satanists, he said. – As we can see on the walls the proper symbolism, and even the traces of blood, and the blood probably belongs to animals, for that matter, will the police, namely Sheriff Shefford.
Well, aren’t we? – asked with surprise Vince.
– No, the house is located on the territory of Shefford, and office, which it was sold, too, on its territory, – said Edward.
Is good, said Vince and stared at the screen. Meanwhile, the camera showed the hallway and the entryway of the house. Once blue Wallpaper now look light blue and sometimes even gray. The camera showed the corner of a ragged Wallpaper, where as it seemed? everybody noticed? some small door.
Is that the stash? asked Vince.
– I don’t know, ' replied Edward. – It’s possible, but why is it not opened, or the old coot Masterson, made the snag, and in fact there is just a wall.
– What a lot of stash?
– Enough, al was greedy, everywhere he looked, what his money can find and steal, it seemed to him that he is not hiding them, so the whole house was full of these fake caches in order to confuse a burglar, ' he replied and remembered how, one day email him after chess told about this one secret, as the false-caches.
Now the camera showed the floor. Floorboards were swollen from moisture. In some places there were even holes, fragments of plaster littered the floor. Somewhere, I could see the bottles from alcoholic beverages and soda.
And you’re sending me there? – once again asked Edward. – You’re crazy, but if I fail the cellar?
– Damn It, Ed!
– You’ll cover me?
– No!
– I will work for you – cut ed.
– Damn! Well!
– Then let’s go today, and Vince?
– Ed.
Or I’m not working, Sheriff banned the use of my services, reminded ed. (Ed knew that the police do not like to use the services of private detectives).
«All right,» agreed Vince.
On the screen appeared the kitchen table with the seal of Baphomet, drawn or blood, or paint. On the table were some black feathers, most likely a crow. On the wall someone wrote, "BILL HOLE, let it BE YOUR SOUL is IMMORTAL.»
– Saw? asked ed. – Just Vince for you.
– Saw! I hope it’s us that will, ' replied Vince and stared at the TV screen. There was some newspaper clippings of how they figured out with bill Hole.
– It seems, among those Satanists have a fan or fans hole, ' replied Vince.
– Looks that way.
Suddenly, interrupted by the urgent news of the war in Syria.
– Oh, shit! Again this war, exclaimed ed and turned off the TV.
– Go to midnight? – suggested Vince.
Ed looked skeptically at Vince.
«Ed, they can see us during the day, but not at night,» Vince began to make excuses.
– Heck! Vince, what you got me into, «Ed sighed heavily and nodded reluctantly.
«Okay, I’ll drive up by midnight,» Vince said, and was already there, about to get up from the couch, but suddenly Ed’s hand fell on his shoulder.
«Vince, take the barrel with you, we don’t know what we can stumble upon or whom,» Ed said excitedly and looked at Vince with a worried look.
«Okay, I’ll take it,» with these words he got up and went to the exit, and Ed all sat with a sullen look, staring at the black TV screen.
After Vince left, ed some time pondering over today’s conversation with Vince. Ran over her back, a chill, why the thought of him was not good. He walked over to the cupboard where he lay newspaper clippings from different Newspapers about bill hole. Ed carefully took the folder of clippings and opened it. The first cutting was about how he was detained at the scene. He carefully read it, but it’s him that does not give. Suddenly he came up with the idea to call Dr. Chulsu, a psychiatrist, and find out whether there was something similar in his practice. Putting aside the folder, he went to the phone book, and began to look for Iskander Sulla.
– Well, well, well, – he muttered and once again turned the page. – Yeah, that and Iskander.
Looking at numbers and remembering them, he picked up the telephone and began to dial the number. He heard the beeps. One, two, three… four…
– Damn – cursed Edward again began to listen to the beeps. After the tenth beep he hung up, but then again she was grabbed and began to call in the emergency room of a psychiatric hospital. Picked up the duty nurse Wilson.
– Er, sister Willson is listening.
– Good day! Call Iskander Sulla, ' replied Edward.
He’s not, he left work at twelve o’clock, but have not yet returned, ' replied the nurse.
– Well, goodbye.
– Goodbye, – answered the phone and hung up.
– I wonder where did Iskander muttered Edward and went into the living room to carefully study the newspaper clippings.
******
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