May 22, 1954
12:01 a.m.

The shadows slowly shifted under the one flickering light in the center of the ceiling. They seemed almost alive as Detective Harry Grant surveyed the grisly scene. The man in the middle of the room stared blankly towards the lone light bulb. A sticky red-black mess framed his body. The five bullet holes in the dead man’s chest were still sticky where the blood leaked out.

Grant took a slow drag off his cigarette. He saw scenes like this every day, but that didn’t make it any easier to look at them. He leaned down to examine the man’s face more closely. “I thought you said you didn’t have an I.D. on the victim yet?”

The patrol officer shrugged.

Grant through his hands up in disgust. “Why’s everyone around me have to be just another blasted ignoramus. Look at him! That’s Amadeus Mayfair!”

“The World’s Fair guy?” the uniformed officer said.

“He’s a noted physicist first and foremost, but yeah, it’s the same guy.” Grant looked around the room for any sign of civilians. “Who found the stiff?”

“The landlady. She says the door was locked from the inside, as were all the windows. No way in.”

Grant turned towards the apartment’s entrance. He looked across the walls. “Now that ain’t possible. No way could Mayfair take five bullets from the hallway without anyone seeing a gunman. And where are the bullet holes?”

The uniform scratched the back of his head, obviously uncomfortable. “You’re the detective. We thought you’d know.”

“Well, it seems there are two possibilities here. Either we’re looking at a lying landlady, or something really fishy is going on here.”

From the dark corner of the room, a ghost watched and listened. Normally, Mister Haunt would agree with every one of Detective Grant’s words. This time he knew things were quite different. His network filled him in on the situation over the last few hours. He knew that Dr. Mayfair had been alone, afraid for his life. He knew that the physicist found out something he shouldn’t and feared retribution. He knew that in the last few weeks Mayfair became a shut-in whose only contact was his adult daughter. (more…)