called the Five Oaks police department and I and Officer Sorrenti responded. Complainant proceeded to show myself and Officer Sorrenti the scattered rocks outside the main house.
There were several photos attached. There were indeed hundreds of rocks scattered on the narrow back stairs of the servants’ house.
Brendan flipped to the next photo. In that one they could see the servants’ house was actually attached to the main house by an enclosed corridor, three or four rooms long. It was an odd, awkward design, and Laurel realized that even though she hadn’t been able to see it from the initial photographs, the oddness of it still registered in front views of the house.
The report continued:
Complainant stated that there had been other disturbances at the house in the previous weeks which the family had attributed to an electrical problem: lights and household appliances had turned on and off at odd times of the day and night and/or had refused to work at all. An electrician had been called and could find no fault in the house’s electrical wiring.
Complainant further reported household items, including a sugar bowl, a serving platter and a skillet, had disappeared and subsequently reappeared in inappropriate places, such as the upstairs bathtub and in the complainant’s bed.
While I and Officer Sorrenti were in the complainant’s quarters, all the family was present with us in the living room when the complainant’s son ran in from the kitchen, reporting that rocks had fallen in the kitchen as well. When Officer Sorrenti and myself went into the kitchen with the complainant’s family, we found the kitchen table and floor covered with rocks of various sizes, and the sugar bowl, a ceramic fruit bowl, and a glass plate smashed, though no rocks were nearby.
There were photos of the kitchen, and the damage was minor, but still unnerving. Brendan and Laurel looked through close-ups of pieces of a smashed glass plate, and several close-ups of the broken sugar bowl, with small heaps of sugar around it.
I initially suspected the boy of placing the rocks in the kitchen and smashing the glass, but as I and Officer Sorrenti and the family stood in the kitchen, we heard pounding sounds all around us in the kitchen and the sound of glass smashing, though nothing was visibly occurring.
At the time of these occurrences the entire family was standing in full view of myself and Officer Sorrenti in the kitchen. There were no tremors in the house, no movement of any kind that could be noticed. None of the appliances was going at these times and the complainant has no high frequency equipment at all in the
That was as far as the page of the report that Brendan had found in the basement files had gone, and both Laurel and Brendan eagerly reached for the second page.
But there was nothing more to the report, only a handwritten note on the next page that read:
Returned 3/22 to follow up on incident and found house closed—complainant and family moved out.
They stared down at the page for a moment, then Brendan said under his breath, “Holy shit, Mickey. It really happened. There really was a poltergeist manifestation. This is what Leish was looking into.”
Laurel had a fluttery feeling in her stomach.
There was the sound of someone clearing his throat.
Laurel and Brendan looked up from the file. The freckled young officer was standing in the doorway of the stairs.
“Sorry, ma’am,” he said, rather formally. “There are no other files in regards to the house. At least, nothing labeled ‘Folger.’ ”
Brendan glanced down at the folder in front of them “This is all there is?” he asked, wistfully.
“Yessir.”
Brendan looked at the top sheet of the report again. “This Sergeant Cutler and Officer Sorrenti. I don’t suppose they’re still with the department.”
“No sir. Both passed on, now.”
“Do you know anything about the Folger House?” Laurel asked, on a hunch.
“Know where it is.”
“Does anyone live there now?” Laurel asked, trying not to sound too eager.
“Aww, no. Not for years. Supposed to be haunted.” The young officer chuckled, a hollow sound, like whistling in the dark.
Brendan and Laurel looked at each other. Laurel took a breath, then took her best shot at another charming smile. “So how might we find out more about the house?”
The officer blushed to his roots and said, “Real-estate agency? Four doors down from the train depot?”
Brendan looked at Laurel, raising his eyebrows.
“Yes, of course, you’re completely right,” she beamed at the kid, and he blushed crimson again. “Do you think we