The Psychic Society: Chapter 4

Mathew Easton: The Phantom

Detective Mathew Easton, a man in league with the enemy, stood in room 1013 24 hours after Burr and the two senators were found dead. Mathew was born with a strange knack of figuring things out. He detected, what most would say, the undetectable. Top of his class of those destined for the title Detective, Easton had solved over 100 cases before the enemy acquired him. It was this uncanny ability that also attracted my late master.

The time was 20:00, and Detective Easton stood at the now open window of that 10th floor room, contemplating the photos taken by his people. He turned from the photos to the window glass. The holes from the rounds, spidering cracks, led him to believe that someone must have been perched somewhere with a high velocity rifle, but that was impossible, unless the man were superman.

His eyes wandered back to the pictures. The window was originally closed, blinds down, and a sheet draped over it, meaning zero visibility for anyone shooting a rifle… unless they were superman.

No casings were retrieved. Video footage was no help. The maid, they had questioned, saw Edward Burr walk out of the room at 13:40, but all the cameras captured was static at that time. Curious, however, that it was only when whoever it was passed by that the cameras went nuts. They were all working perfectly afterwards.

And though she had seen Burr walk out, it could not have been him, because forensics put him to be dead about that time, in the room, with that dreadful mark on his face…

This case was certainly the most perplexing case he had ever had, and not one bit of it made any sense. The assailant would have to be flying… or some sort of crane? helicopter?  Something had to hold him or her in place while he or she made those killing shots. At some point there was an entry, which led to Burr’s death, that was certain, but once again, the assailant had to be flying… or something…

And nobody saw anything?

Detective Easton’s mind tinkered and spun as it tried to conceive what had happened, but nothing meshed together. Discouraged, he looked to the bottom of that 10th story view and thought of what his bosses would say if he couldn’t solve this case.

“Hello, Detective,” came a voice from the front door, “How goes the investigation?”

speak of the devil…

“Not too good, Mr. Crouse,” said Easton, turning around. Mr. Crouse was an elderly gentleman, no more than 65, white beard and short hair and dressed like he had some fancy place to be.

“I hope you’re not so troubled by these events to check up on me while you are engaged in something else?” said Easton.

“Oh,” said Mr Crouse, shaking his head, “It’s no where that I’ll be missed, but I am very concerned about this investigation. Our superiors are very concerned about finding whoever is responsible, considering the election is a couple of months away, now to be postponed.”

“Well, as it stands, sir,” said Easton, “None of it adds up. I don’t suppose you have a list of people who would be interested in killing Mr. Burr?”

“You’re the detective, are you not?”

Detective Easton smiled. “Yeah, I suppose I am. Any super-human individuals that might want to kill Mr. Burr?”

“Super-human?”

“Yes. The initial shots were fired from outside this 10th floor window, from approximately 100 or 150 yards, meaning the killer was suspended in air, somehow. Two shots, sir, passing through blinds and a sheet to meet the two senators in the head, so not only can our assailant fly, he has x-ray vision.”

“At some point he broke through the window and entered the room to kill off Mr. Burr and retrieved his casings, including the ones outside, or rather we still haven’t found them.”

Mr. Crouse looked uncomfortable, as if he were hiding something.

“And if you know anything or anyone capable of this, I would love to know, because, though I am the best in my field, this answer I’ve come up with, though utterly preposterous, is the only one that makes sense to me right now.”

“I… may have to get back with you on that,” said Mr. Crouse.

“Mr. Crouse,” said Detective Easton, “By all means, get back to me. But if there is a shred of truth in my synopsis, if you can confirm any of it, there’s a lot more that you and your employers are going to have to tell me when this whole case is solved.”

Psychic Society 1
Psychic Society 2
Psychic Society 3
Psychic Society 5

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