The Mystery of the Courthouse Calamity (Eden Patterson: Ghost Whisperer Book 1)
Page 5
“It’s in there! It’s in there!”
Syd walked past him nonchalantly and entered the judge’s chamber with me, Luke and Matt close behind with his video camera.
When I entered the room Syd looked up from the EMT meter she was carrying. “High energy levels in here.”
I looked around the room. Papers were flung everywhere and large, heavy law books were laying on the floor. Those must have caused the thud noises we heard. Goog was back in the room standing as close to Matt as he could.
“Goog, what happened?” I asked.
Goog gestured towards the small sofa next to the wall. “Oh well I was just minding my business, sitting on the sofa there when all hell broke loose. At first I felt a small breeze, but then papers started tossing about like in a mini tornado, then the books started flying off the shelves. That’s when I skedaddled.”
I motioned for him to sit down. “It’s alright Goog, just calm down. Did you see any apparition?”
Goog sat down on the sofa and run his hand through his hair and shook his head. “Nope, wasn’t sticking around for an introduction.”
Luke walked around the judge’s desk and looked at the papers strewn across it. “So now it’s the judge’s chambers. There’s got to be something about this judge. It keeps coming back to him…don’t you think?”
“Seems that way,” I answered. “We need to talk to him.”
Luke shook his head. “Sorry hon, but Judge Rockingham has gone on vacation. At least that’s what Jeffrey told me. Not sure when he’s getting back.”
I stood looking around at the chaos in the room. What were the ghosts getting at? Was it the judge or this entire place?
We placed a few more cameras inside the judge’s chambers and waited for another hour. Nothing happened.
“I say we wrap it up,” I said. “I’m hungry and a burger sounds good about now.”
“There’s a bar with a kitchen up a few blocks. They’ve got great greasy burgers,” Syd replied.
“Sounds like a plan,” Luke said. “Let’s go. I’ll call the mayor on the way and fill him in on what happened after he left.”
Chapter Nine
“I’m telling you, the judge has to be involved in this haunting.” Syd took the wrapper off her straw and stuck into her glass filled with Diet Coke.
“But what would these ghosts have against the judge?” Matt asked as he squeezed the slice of lemon into his sweet tea. “It’s not like he was around when they were killed.”
“Maybe he wasn’t,” Luke said. “But perhaps his ancestors were.”
A light went off in my head.
“That’s possible,“ Goog said. “However, I’m sure there are many people still living here with ancestors from that period.”
“Yeah but these ghosts might be tethered to the courthouse grounds,” I answered. “There’s been no other disturbances in town, so I’m pretty sure they are.”
“Okay, we’re right back to the judge again.” Syd wasn’t letting go.
“Is there any way you could get his number from Jeffrey or the Mayor and call him?” I asked.
“I can try,” Luke answered. By then our hamburgers and fries had arrived and we dove into them like we hadn’t eaten for weeks. Something about ghost hunting makes one ravenous.
“I still say we need to find out more about Judge Rockingham,” Syd said between bites of her burger. “Maybe the judge’s ancestors were part of the vigilante posse.”
Luke held a French fry in the air. “That’s a good idea, however, Judge Rockingham has been a sitting judge here for years. Why are the spirits all of a sudden mad at him now?”
“Yeah, that’s what’s not adding up.” I replied. “We still need to find out the issue surrounding the switch from playful haunting to violent poltergeist disturbances.”
After finishing our late dinners and saying our goodnights, I turned to Luke. “I want to go back to the courthouse, but I want you to stay outside. Let me go in alone.”
Luke shook his head. “That’s not going to happen.”
“And why not?”
“You’ve seen what these ghosts can do. I don’t want you to be alone with them.”
“They’ve never hurt anyone though…I mean not really.”
“Normally spirits we’ve dealt with are gentle…we’ve never had to deal with this before.”
“Just trust me,” I said grabbing his hand. “I think these ghosts may be intimidated. You have to remember they’re from back in the early 1800’s. I’m sure our equipment is strange to them.”
“They’ve been haunting the courthouse for over a hundred years. I would think they’d be used to computers and fax machines by now.”
“Luke…just let me try. You can wait at the courthouse door listening if you want.”
Luke knew it was no use arguing. “Alright…but if things start flying, you start running.”
By the time we got back to the courthouse it was almost midnight. The wind whispered through the leaves in the large oak trees. I could see the full moon’s rays as they filtered brightly through the hefty branches. Branches that were strong enough to hold the rope and the weight of three men as they were hung by a gang of vigilantes.
I stopped and sat on one of the benches. Luke sat beside me but he knew not to say a word. This was my time to meditate, to get in touch, if you will, with the spirit or spirits inhabiting the courthouse and grounds. I knew that sitting near the trees where the young men were killed might tune me into their energy. I wasn’t like the psychics you see on television shows that act possessed by a spirit or keep guessing at answers to a loved one’s questions. I was simply a vessel for an earthbound spirit to tell their story. Now I had to open my mind and soul to listen.
We sat for around 30 minutes in silence until I felt at peace. Releasing all my anxiety, worry, or cares prepared me for my meeting. Not all encounters are like this. Some spirits can’t wait to talk to me, delighted to find a human who can finally see and hear them. But many need coaxing. This spirit or spirits needed cajoled and I hoped I was in the frame of mind that they felt comfortable enough to speak to me.
I stood up without a word to Luke and started for the courthouse door. I could hear Luke’s footsteps as they followed a few feet behind me. Again we didn’t speak…he didn’t want to interrupt my meditation.
I opened the door and walked into the courthouse, then took out the small flashlight in my purse. I walked to the entrance door to the courtroom and opened it. I allowed the light from my flashlight to wash over the room, onto the judge’s bench and the lawyer’s tables. I walked towards the bench. I heard Luke, with his own flashlight, as he sat down on one of the gallery’s benches. I wasn’t surprised. I knew he wouldn’t let me come in here alone, but he knew to remain in the background if I was to have any luck in coaxing the ghost out.
I started to open my mouth when a cold breeze hit me square in the face. I looked to my right and just then a glow began to appear. I resisted the urge to shine my flashlight onto the glow, afraid it might send this earthly spirit back into hiding. I continued to watch and say nothing as the glow became bigger and more pronounced. The image was blurry but it was of a young man. He wore brown pants, suspenders and a white shirt. His dark brown hair was parted on the side. I recognized him as one of the Cowling brothers from a photograph that Anita had shown us.
He stared at me. I wanted to speak to him, but something inside me told me to wait. I followed my intuition…it had never led me astray and it didn’t this time. We stood and looked at one another for what felt like five minutes. I wondered what Luke was thinking. If he could see the apparition that was slowly forming into a clear vision right in front of me. When the apparition was fully developed, the spirit finally spoke.
“I’ve been wishing to speak to you,” he said.
I finally felt that it would be fine for me to speak. “I’ve been hoping to hear what you have to say. You’re one of the Cowling brothers I presume?”
> He nodded. “My name is Peter, the youngest brother.”
“Are your other brothers here too?”
Peter shook his head. “No, only me.”
“Have you been here since your death?”
He looked at the floor. “Yes I have.”
I noticed then that he seemed very young, like only about 15 or 16. I envisioned the brothers to be much older.
“Are you the one that’s been causing the disruptions inside the courthouse?”
“Yes,” he said simply. He wasn’t going to make it easy for me. I hoped my questions wouldn’t scare him off, but we had to know what was bothering him.
“So you used to just be playful with your antics, or shenanigans. Playing with the lights, opening doors, moving furniture. And that was okay with the people who worked here.”
Suddenly he smiled. “Yes, that was me. It’s fun to see how people react, especially newcomers. The people who work here are used to it.”
“But what happened? Why did the events become violent? Why were you so angry with the judge in particular?” I tried to keep my voice calm. I didn’t want to sound accusatory, but more inquisitive.
The smile left his face. “I don’t care for that lady, she hollars at me.”
I had to think for a second, then realized he was talking about Syd. “Oh don’t worry about her…she’s not here right now.”
Peter seemed to be a little agitated while speaking about Syd so I decided to sit down at the lawyer’s table, hoping that would make me seem less intimidating. He appeared to relax a bit.
“How about the judge? You seem to have it in for him.”
“Have it in for him?” Peter looked confused. I had to remember I was speaking with someone from over hundred years ago. Language had changed over that time and today’s lingo wouldn’t make sense to him.
“I mean, your actions seem to show that you’re mad at him. Like when you raised his chair off the floor with him in it. And trashing his chambers. It seems that you’re targeting him, or am I wrong in that assumption?”
“The judge is a jerk…I think that’s what you call a person who isn’t very nice to others.” So he had caught on to some of our lingo.
I nodded. “That’s what I’ve heard around town, that he isn‘t well liked. So, you were after the judge because he was a jerk?”
“Well, he is a jerk, but he isn't the issue at hand.”
“What is the issue?”
Peter again looked at the floor so I persuaded him to talk.
“I’m here to help Peter, in whatever way I can. If there’s something you want this town to know, I can be your mouthpiece.”
Peter looked at me. “You know how I died?”
I nodded. “Yes, I’ve read the history of what happened to you and your brothers.”
“You probably know why those men did what they did to us?”
“Yes, I read about how you and your brothers terrorized the community. Unfortunately the locals got to a place where they didn’t feel justice would ever be served so they decided to parcel out their own.”
“But they made a mistake.”
“Well, I know they shouldn’t have taken matters into their own hands, but the way I understand it, your father continually bought off the judge for your crimes.”
“Not me.”
Now I was confused. “What do you mean Peter?”
“I was never in on any of my brother’s doings. I didn’t like what they did to people. Even told them so, but they just laughed at me.”
“Then who was with them when they committed their crimes.”
“A friend. But they always wore halters or masks across their faces so everyone always thought it was me.”
This was becoming even more intriguing. “So this friend…he just let you take the rap…I mean the blame?”
“Well, since Daddy would always pay off the judge, my brothers told me to keep quiet. Let them think I was in on it so their friend wouldn’t get into trouble.”
“I see. What was your brother’s friends’ name?”
“Joseph…Joseph Rockingham.”
Bazinga! There it was, plain as day. “Is Judge Rockingham related to Joseph?”
“Yes’m. He’s like a great great great grandson.”
“Is that why you don’t like the Judge, because he's related to your brother's friend? The one who actually did the crimes?”
“No. I don’t like the Judge because he’s a jerk.”
I snickered. “So is he like Joseph?”
“Yeah…he could be a jerk too. Guess the apple didn’t fall too far from the tree.”
“I guess it didn’t.”
Suddenly I realized something. “Peter, if you never helped your brothers commit these crimes, then you were innocent.”
Peter looked at the large window towards the giant oak trees on the courthouse lawn. “Yes I was. My brothers tried to tell the men that night that I was innocent. That it was their friend not me who had been with them all those times they robbed and stole, but they didn’t want to listen.”
I felt a catch in my throat. This poor young boy had paid the ultimate price for someone else’s sins.
“I’m so sorry Peter.”
“It’s alright. I’ve made my peace with it a long time ago.”
“So why have you stuck around? And more importantly, what has gotten you so upset the last month or so?”
“When my spirit swooshed out of my body my brothers were already gone. I tried to find them, but they took off…just like they did in life. I tried to speak to the men who hung us, but they couldn’t hear me. My Daddy came into the courthouse a few times and I tried to talk to him too, but he didn’t notice me either. I stuck around waiting for my brothers to come back, but they never have.”
I felt so sorry for this poor boy. First he’d been killed for crimes he never committed, then he was lost in a courthouse where no one could see or hear him. But I still hadn’t discovered why he became violent.
“Peter, what happened in the last few weeks? Something must have occurred for you to cause the gavel to fly around, toilets to explode, and well, tossing the judge from here to there.
“I was mad and still am.” His face became angry. I wasn’t sure if I could appease him.
“What happened Peter? You can tell me.”
“I’m not sure you’ll understand.”
“I’m not sure I will either, but I want to try.”
Peter sighed. “Someone desecrated our tombstone out in the old city cemetery. I heard people talking about it and saw it in the newspaper that someone brought in.”
He looked at the floor. “I know my brothers were bad men and they don’t deserve any respect from the town…I understand that. But we do have family that comes to visit this town. I saw and heard them inside the courthouse. My Aunt Beatrice and Aunt Irene…they were my Daddy’s sisters… well, their offspring have come to town through the years. I’ve heard them say they went to the old cemetery and visited our graves. They’re very nice people, not like my brothers. We don’t deserve any respect, but they do. They’re good folk and should be able to revisit their family’s history without someone disturbing the graves of their ancestors. It’s not for me and my brothers that I’m upset, it’s for our family that has come after us that just want to understand their heritage.”
So this is what had him upset. It would be easy to corroborate if their grave marker had been damaged around six weeks ago since Peter said he’d seen it in a newspaper that a visitor had brought in. Then an idea popped into my head.
“Peter, if I talk to the Mayor and have the city pay for the restitution of your monument…ummm tombstone, would that make you happy?”
His face brightened. “Yes’m it would.”
“And would you stop tossing the judge and his gavel around…and leave the women’s restroom alone as well?”
“I never went in there when a lady was present.” Okay, that’s a relief.
“Alright t
hen, I think we have a deal.”
Peter looked more at ease. “I’m glad to finally have someone to talk to. It gets lonely not being able to have a conversation with anyone.”
“Peter, why don’t you move on then? Surely you’ve seen a path to another place.”
Peter looked out the window towards the full moon. “I have seen a glow. It beckons me, but I always resist. Maybe I should explore it.”
I smiled. “I think you should. It might just be what you’re searching for.”
“Thank you.” He began to fade from view and I suddenly didn’t want him to leave. I started to say something, but then stopped. I knew my need for him to stick around, even though I suggested he pass on, was a selfish one. I wanted him to look for Grandpa Winky or help me locate him. Peter and other spirits I’ve encountered live on a different plane of existence. I wanted to know how to get there…where the door was so I could find my grandfather once again and have those special conversations we had so long ago. But it was too late, Peter was gone.
I sat for the longest time collecting my thoughts. Then I heard Luke as the bench he was sitting on creaked as he stood.
“Eden, are you alright?” He asked quietly.
I stood and shown my flashlight towards where he stood. “Yes I’m fine. So did you get all of that?”
“I got your end of the conversation. I didn’t see or hear anyone else.”
I explained to Luke what Peter told me…about his innocence and the desecration of their grave marker. Although no cameras were rolling and there was no evidence to present to the Mayor or the counsel men, they would just have to take my word on it. And they were reluctant at first to pay for the damage to the gravestone, but through a fund-raising effort enough money was collected to pay for the restitution. I don’t think many people believed that Peter was innocent, and that’s up to them. Myself, I believed him.
A part of me understood the frustration of a town that was controlled by a wealthy man and the whims of his sons. And I’m sure they felt justified in dealing out their own form of justice. However, in doing so, they may have murdered an innocent person. Justice served in such a manner isn’t justice at all, especially if you don’t know all the facts.