Psychic Investigations

Chapter One - The Victims

I was busy in the kitchen one Sunday afternoon, when I felt a blow to the back of my head. I quickly realized I wasn’t the one who’d been hit. I’d been working as a medium for a while and was used to spirits making their presence known to me, but this was different and totally unexpected.

Someone repeatedly hit this spirit over the head and I was about to find out whom. Just as I was wondering where this could be, my sister walked in with her husband,
" Has there been an accident down the road,? There’s red tape all around the house."

Straight away, I knew what I’d felt was connected to this house.

I didn’t feel anything else, or at least until the day after when I drove by the house all strung up with red tape. I felt sick to my stomach. This was no accident. The blows to my head were the cause of this murder. It felt strange, because, usually, spirits came through at the request of their loved ones, but no actual reading was taking place, so, I pondered what I could do about it?

Periodically throughout the morning this spirit contacted me. "Who are you and what can I do.? Immediately, I heard the name Susie. Within seconds I was given two or three more messages. Two murders. Two ladies. Then I heard the name Mark. I didn’t know what to make of this so I phoned Oldham Police.

"If you have any evidence that you think is helpful, then you should go to the incident room which is located near the victim’s home.

The heavens had opened and it was a blowing a gale but I had to get this information to someone. After pulling at the door instead of pushing it, I made rather an awkward entrance, so ,I’d already given them a reason to laugh. There in front of me sat four police officers.

"Yes, what can we do for you, madam? I should have turned and walked out but I didn’t. I had no idea, really, what I was going to say, so I began by telling them my story and that I was a medium, but this was not what they wanted to hear. I became their entertainment for the evening. I stood there very calmly and finally said, "Okay, so if you gentlemen are not willing to listen and take me seriously, then maybe you can put me in touch with someone who will."

I was thinking that if I could get to the officer in charge of the case, he would know all the facts and it would perhaps give me a closer link to this spirit. Or better still, he would have the means of getting me in touch with a relative of the deceased! I knew that there was already communication, but I figured either a member of the victims family or even a piece of their jewelry would give me a stronger connection.

That’s it, I thought. I felt sure it would work like it does during a reading. The way it works is when someone comes to me and there is a spirit who wants to communicate, the person knows all what has gone on in their life, but more importantly, so does the spirit. I, however, know nothing about this person so, therefore, any information I give them could have come from no other than the spirit. Hence ‘proof of recognition’ of the truth and of another form of existence is imparted to the person.

There was only one person living who knew the truth, and he was safe so far. However, the person who’d been murdered was now in spirit and thereby knew the whole picture. Past, present, future, and the motive as well. I, of course, had no knowledge of what had happened yet. This spirit, Susie, was telling me pieces of the story to help the police to solve the case; therefore, any clues I had would be such that they would provide ‘proof of recognition’ as well as concrete evidence. This would prompt the police to investigate and validate the information, and then they would piece it all together and have the man who’d done it.

Instead I was laughed out of the place and told to come back when I phone numbers.

I couldn’t pretend it never happened, but I was getting nowhere fast. I should have known, because anybody who Spirit want me to talk to, they present them to me and then it’s up to Spirit to convince them, not me.

I decided to allow Spirit to work in their own mysterious way.

I had been holding a developing circle at my house for a few weeks now so I decided to talk about it to those present.

Nothing was suggested until a couple of days later, when one of my clients had mentioned it to someone else who just so happen to have a relative in the police force.

Sure enough, by the end of the week I received a phone call from a policeman who was willing to come over and hear what I had to say. The moment I opened the door I knew this was the right man!

"Hello, Maria, I am Detective Inspector Ron Clarke." I shook his hand and it was as if the whole Spirit World were waiting to talk to him. No sooner had we sat down when a flood of visions came into my mind. Almost immediately I felt like I was lifting off the sofa. I began telling him word for word exactly what I was experiencing.

"I’m outside a house. It’s Susie’s house. I’m walking through the front door and down a long hallway. There’s a door on my right. It’s the front room. The window faces the street, but there’s no one in there. A little further along there’s a second room. I’m standing in the doorway now. It feels warm. Straight facing me is a fireplace. Directly above it is a mirror. I can see myself and the rest of the room around me. To my left is another room. I’m walking towards it. It’s the kitchen. There’s a window in front of me. On the left wall is the cooker, and facing it is the back door leading out into the back yard. It’s an ‘L-shaped’ yard, and there’s a man climbing over the gate. A young man. Looks to be around twenty years old. I don’t know him. He’s yelling at someone."

All at once I heard a bang. I felt as though someone was standing behind me. I was startled and for a second I lost my bearings. Then as I turned my head to the right I noticed I was back in the room with the fireplace. As I was walking, I knew that I wasn’t alone.

"I’m back in front of the fire now, looking into the mirror. There are two people standing behind me. One is an elderly woman and the other is a young man. There’s a tall cabinet on the back wall."

I stood there conscious of my physical self looking through the mirror, but something wasn’t quite right. I knew I was looking into the mirror, yet I couldn’t see myself. "Where the hell am I?"

I lifted my hands up to my temples trying to think, but this was not what I was seeing. I leaned in towards the glass realizing that the reflection was not mine at all! It was an old woman who stood there smiling at me.

"Hello, I am Susie." I almost left the planet let alone my body " Gee Wiz, don’t ever do that to me again!"
Before I had the chance to say anything else, I felt a sharp blow on the back of my head. I caught a glimpse of a man in the mirror. It was the same man who’d come over the gate. He was holding a piece of wood in his hands. It was about two feet long and around two inches wide. I was over come with emotional. One minute I was aware of myself sitting on the sofa and the next I felt as though I was this woman.

"He didn’t go to the house to murder them. He’ll confess. He will do something so stupid on his own doorstep. I don’t know who’s name this is but someone has been saying 'Mark'. Then the word ‘scar’. I have no idea what it all means."

I knew I’d been given some vital clues, but where did they all fit? Then it dawned on me. This poor policeman must have thought I’d gone crazy. Still I couldn’t help what came next. It was horrendous. I felt every blow they suffered. Someone was bashing me over the head repeatedly until I finally fell off the sofa and rolled over playing dead! I looked up for a moment, "He did it with a piece of broken furniture, you know!"

I was hunched over with my hands protecting my head. I looked over to my left and there she lay in a pool of blood. A shiver ran down my spine.

That was the last thing I remembered. Unknown to me, I was reconstructing the whole event that led to these two old ladies death.

The look on his face did not need a clairvoyant to see that he was not one bit impressed. Inspector Clarke’s demeanor reflected the high rank and respect he had earned serving in the force for many years, and solving many mysteries. Sitting there so proper, he took a deep breath and with a sigh said, "I have to tell you, this is quite interesting, but I must be honest and say I’m very skeptical, and I find it very difficult to believe in all this stuff. Why don’t you tell me a little bit about yourself and how you work?"

Only now did it dawn on me. Here I was, a total stranger, going off in another world without any explanation of who I was or how I worked. He must have thought I’d lost my mind! I know it must have taken all he had not to walk straight out of the house. The biggest thing of all was, unknown to him, it took all I had not to burst out laughing. I’d just been rolling around on the floor screaming and going through hell without even knowing it. In any other circumstances I would have been altogether embarrassed and prayed for the floor to swallow me up. On the contrary, I had all sorts of crazy things going on in my head. I felt sickened by the tragic way these two old ladies had suffered, and at the same time, overwhelmed by such an intense experience. I’d never been used by a spirit to guide me through their own death before so this was more surprising to me than he was, but I couldn’t tell him that then.
With a beaming smile and full of confidence I said, "I’m gonna tell you more about you than you know yourself."

Without any further adieu, I asked him for an item which belonged to him. He handed me his wallet and, before I had the chance to think about anything else, I came out with a full chain of events that had been happening in his life over the last few years. All at once I felt the presence of a spirit. It was an older man. "There’s a gentleman in Spirit who tells me he’s your father." I could hear someone singing happy birthday, but when I asked Inspector Clark he didn’t comment.

I told him certain things relating to the family’s origin that only he and the family would have known. I went on to described many things about his father and his exact symptoms before he passed away which, again, only he and his father would know. I stood up excusing myself while I went to get some water.

I came back and leaned over the handrail on the steps sipping my water when I began impersonating his father. As I brought the glass up to my lips, I could smell rum really strong. For a moment it seemed I was holding a silver flask instead of a glass. "Your father drank rum and he’d always have a silver flask which he carried in his inside left breast pocket." By the look on his face it was apparent that Inspector Clarke must have sensed his father’s presence and recognized the familiar mannerisms I was demonstrating. He nodded his head and said, "Yes, that is correct."

I sat down and continued,

"Your father wants you to know he’s very close by you, and the things he has to tell you, unfortunately, you will not relate to at this present time, but you can rest assured that they will all come to pass in the future."

I mentioned that he had worked on the drug squad some time ago and that he would go back into it again. I also told him the exact location where he would be working. Then I said,

"You’ve worked so hard to achieve your goals, and its going to be around this particular time when you will be given the promotion you always believed was your’s."

Through the course of telling him all these things, it became apparent that Inspector Clarke was able to look beyond the stereo-type image of the so called ‘fortune teller’ and recognize my work as being sincere. He looked at me and took a deep breath, and with a huge grin he said,

"Well, Maria, let’s just say I hope you’re right. You’ve certainly surprised me."

Then as he stood up to leave, he raised his arms stretching, and clasped his hands behind his head saying,

"Well, you’ve definitely convinced me."

I smiled thanked him for his time and said,

" I have no idea at this time why or where, but there is another reason why you were sent to me. There is a time not too far away when I will be able to help you directly."

As I walked him to the door I said, "So where do we go from here then, Mr. Clarke?"

"Okay, Maria, I’m going to be perfectly honest with you. Your name came up at the station, and I said I would be willing to come and see you because I lived the closest to you. I have to tell you, though, I’m not actually working on this case and I don’t know a great deal about it; however, there’s one thing I can tell you. The weapon used was indeed a broken chair leg. In all fairness I’ve got no reason to doubt you, but I can’t go into the station and approach the officer in charge with the events that you’ve given me today. They’ll laugh me right out of the precinct. I know I won’t be able to convince them with what you’ve told me. You see, they need more proof. Because you’ve convinced me, I’ll certainly try my best and do whatever I can, but if there’s anything else you can tell me so I can go back to them with something concrete ...some vital clue like a name or a description of this guy, then maybe they’ll buy it."

Before he had a chance to say anything else I said,

"Oh my God, I have got some names. While I was at work the other day I was given the name Susie. I heard the name Mark, then the word scar. It confused me because I wasn’t sure if the man who’d done it had a visible scar, like a distinguishing mark on him, or that his name was in actual fact Mark. Or maybe the woman had a scar, I don’t know."

The Inspector took out his notebook and started scribbling things down as I spoke. "Then over the course of the day I got two other names. Steven and Paul." I took a deep breath and I said, "These names may be for your benefit too, ha! Bring me a piece of the women’s jewelry and I know I’ll get the whole thing."
He shook my hand and said, "Well, I can’t promise you what the outcome of this will be, but I will go and speak to the officer in charge of the murders and see what I can do."

He did, indeed, do just that, and later two officers came to my house with one of the women’s diary, but they obviously showed up just to be entertained and wouldn't you know, I didn’t get anything.

I even asked them if they could get me into the women’s home, but they said they didn’t have the authority to do that and they’d get back to me. Needless to say, I didn’t hear from them again.

The following Monday evening Inspector Clarke called to tell me that the information I’d given him was 100% accurate, and the police had a man in for questioning. "His name is Steven and his middle name is Paul," and the amazing thing is, he lives on Mark lane, but it is known only to the locals as Scar Lane!" Straight away I said,

"He’s not the one, the man who’s done it will commit another crime practically on his own doorstep, and it will be during the questioning of that when he’ll confess to these murders."

I put the phone down and thought, Why would Spirit give me the name of an innocent man? I’m sure Inspector Clarke must’ve been wondering the same thing. But one thing was for sure, innocent or not, all the names and facts I had provided were now concrete evidence proving that the information was coming from no other than victim. .

Shortly after, I learned through one of my clients who had known the innocent man that he used to run errands for Susie and her sister. Apparently during the house to house investigation this man’s name came up, only because he frequented their home. Now I understood why Susie had made a point, while taking me through the murder, that she did not know the man who had come over the back gate and into the house. She was giving the evidence of what would come to pass, and she also provided evidence clearly distinguishing the innocent one from the guilty one.

It was a few months later when the police arrested another man. He had taken a taxi home one night and raped the woman driver right there on his own street. During questioning he confessed that he was also responsible for the murder of the two old ladies - exactly as I had foreseen it! In spite of any confusion in the police investigation itself, there was not a flaw in any of my information. This had to be the pièce de résistance for Inspector Clarke, although, interestingly enough, this was not yet to be the last I would hear of this case.


Approximately six months had gone by when I woke up one morning with a dreadful, sick feeling in my stomach. The nerves throughout my body felt shot completely beyond repair. "What the heck is wrong with me?"

I began to panic inside. Instinctively I knew these were not my symptoms. "Is there something wrong with one of my family?" I questioned. Who is it that could be feeling so horrible?"

I sat down hoping to relax but to no avail, the symptoms just got worse. Suddenly an awful depression came over me causing my heart to palpitate. I remembered a phone call I’d had with a client a few days previously. After hanging up, I had sensed this woman’s depression. The moment I acknowledged who’s these symptoms were, they disappeared, and then I realized that I’d scheduled her appointment for noon this day.

The doorbell rang and I opened the door to this woman who was clearly putting on her public face, instinctively I felt her sadness deep in my belly.

I invited her in my heart began pounding. No sooner had we sat down when I clearly heard the name Susie!

I was completely taken by surprise. "why would you turn up, I thought. Suddenly from nowhere an almighty crash, I heard the slamming of a door, but this was no ordinary door. The sound echoed so loudly inside my head it almost deafened me and then another blow to my head.

Images of the two old ladies came back to me. Their house the mirror in the front room. The image of a young man’s face appeared in it. Yes, it was the exact same face I’d seen while describing the facts to Inspector Clarke. I felt sick to my stomach. How could I possibly start this reading? Sensing, she was involved in some big way, it was as if, the whole thing had been orchestrated, like I’d been bottling it all up. "You have a son who’s name is Simon haven't you? He trapped in some room and he’s not well, he’s suffering from major depression."

She looked at me in total despair. Again I heard the door slam. This time I saw iron bars that divided his room from the rest of the world. "He’s in prison for...!" Sat before me was this boys mother, what a position I was in.

"Maria, please, I have heard so much about you. You have such a wonderful reputation. You have helped so many people. Is my son really guilty?"

A thousand thoughts crashed into my mind. "You did all you could for him as long as you could. As difficult as this is going to be, try to understand that you must not put your own life on hold trying to save him. He’s got a life sentence and you’re choosing to do it with him by withdrawing from the rest of your family, your other children need you too.

Don’t push them out because of one son’s mistake. I must also add that your son suffers from a certain form of schizophrenia, but this does not alter the facts. For there is nothing you, I or anyone else can do to put it right."

NEXT - CHAPTER 2