Moonlight von abgemeldet ================================================================================ Prolog: Prolog -------------- When my story began it was a warm, normal evening in August. I lived in a small village somewhere in Ireland in a big, old farmershouse which I got from my grand aunt. My story is really inconceivable and you must deceide on your own if you want to believe what I will tell you: 1. Kapitel ---------- I was sitting in my study, looking out of the window and thinking about a new book when the story began. It was a sunny und normal evening, the sun was shining warm on my arms when I opened the window. Inside the 350 years old farm-house it was dark and cool, because in front of the building stood a few big firs, so for the light it was hard to get into the house. Some people said that it had to be very inspiring for a writer to live in such an old building in such a small village with only 20 houses, a catholic church and a pub, where everyone knew everyone. Suddenly the door was opened and I heard quiet steps on the floor. "Miau", said Pancake, my cat-lady. She deserves her name, because she really looked like a pancake, she was so fat, if Garfield would have seen her he would have been very, very envious. "Hey Pancake, are you hungry again?" asked I when I carried her into the kitchen. Suddenly I heard loud voices outdoors and saw a ambulance coming. And when they stopped in front of my house I was really wondering what they were doing here. I could not imagine that something has happened in our small peaceful village. I went into the garden and saw a police car coming behind the ambulance and they stopped there, too. "What's happening?" I asked one of the police men. "Are you a neighbour?" he asked. "A neighbour of who?" "The old woman who lives here in 15 St. Patricks Road. Come on are you or not?" "I am. My name is Kelly O'Connor. And the old lady's name is Emily Jones." I told the police man. "What's wrong with Mrs. Jones? Did she had an accident?" "We don't know yet" he answered. "But her cleanig lady phoned us and told us Mrs. Jones were dead." "Dead?" I could not believe it. How could this nice old lady be dead? "Who's this?" A voice said behind me. It was a man, maybe 35 to 40 years old, wearing jeans and a black leather jacket who asked the police man this question. I knew at once that he was talking about me, but I was standing next to him, he could have asked myself. "Her name is Kelly something, she is the neighbour of the dead." The young police man said. "Kelly O'Connor, my name is Kelly O'Connor!" The man, obviously a police inspector, said sneering:" Very nice Mrs. Connor, maybe I will have some question for you later, but now go back into your house. We have to work." Now I got really angry. Who was he to tell me what I got to do? At this moment, I knew I defenitly wanted to stay. "What about the cat?" I asked. "Mrs. Jones got an old cat. Maybe it would be the best if I take him to me." "If you want to." Said the police inspector. "But stay here, I'll see if someone's gonna get this cat for you. But only now. I know nothing about the heirs of the dead, we've to ask the cleaning lady 'bout the family." "Mrs. Jones had no family." "Then we'll see if she made a testament. I don't know and I don't care 'bout this fucking cat." So this is how I got Romeo. He was an old skinny tomcat, who had lived nearly all his life at Mrs. Jones'. She had found him about 15 years ago and he had looked exactly the same. He had black, blunt skin and creepy, yellow eyes. He was one of those cats you do not want to meet in the darkness. But Mrs. Jones had loved him like a child, above all since her son had died 15 years ago. 2. Kapitel ---------- When I woke up the next day Romeo seemed to be very nervous. He had no problems with my old cats, Pancake and Hitchcock, even if they were wondering why he was here. It was 9.00 a.m., I was drinking a cup of coffee, thinking about my book, when Romeo ran to the front door, back into kitchen, than to the door again. "What's the matter?" I asked. "Do you want to go outside?" I opened the door, but he did not move. He just stood there and looked into my face. This moment I noticed that I never heard Romeo making any noise, although I knew him since he had lived at Mrs. Jones. Exactly one hour later the doorbell rang. It was the police inspector who had allowed me to keep Romeo for the next time. I tried to remember his name, but then I noticed that he has not told me. "Hey", he said. "My name is Steven Baker, CID (Anm. Der Autorin:"Criminal Investigation Department, zu deutsch Kripo"). I have some questions for you." "Please come in." I did not want to say this, I did not like him since the first moment I saw him. But now it was too late and he was a police man. "Thanks...", he came in, looked round and sat down, without asking me on the kitchen table. "Nice house, but isn't it too big for one person?" "It's okay", I anserwed and sat down, too without asking him if he wanted a cup of coffee. "I've got a nice cleaning lady who helps me with the house." "So you can be sure that someone will find you if you die." "I promise that I won't die in the next time. I am absolutly healthy, thank you." He grinned. "Here we have our problem. Mrs. Jones was absolutly healthy, too. We couldn't find anything that could hae killed her." "And now you're searching for anyone, aren't you?" "We don't know. We didn't find any sign that she was murdered, we found just nothing. It's as if she just fell over and was dead. And now it get's interesting. 15 years ago Marcus Jones died, he was just 14 and nobody could find any reason for his dead. 12 years ago Richard Jones died and three guesses how. ... Right, no idea." I could remember the deaths of Mrs. Jones' son and husband and I could remenber that the police and many famous doctors searched for a reason for two years. "But...", I said ... "Mrs. O'Connor, what did you do Saturday evenig between 18.00 and 22.00 p.m.?" "I was sitting in my study and thinking about a new book. Alone with my two cats. No witnesses at all." "No witnesses?" he grinned. "Okay, when did you see Mrs. Jones the last time?" "Saturday evenig, I was just feeding my cats. It was maybe 6.00 p.m.. And yes, I could be the murderer. But before you find the murderer you should find the cause of her death." He laughed. "You're right. But anyhow, did you see anyone? Saturday between 6.00 and 10.00 p.m.?" "I saw Mrs. Jones and my cats. And if you don't have more questions you may go, I have to work." "If you want me to leave I'll go but I have one more question: Am I right when I think you live here alone?" "I live with my cats." "Okay. And because of your neighbours ugly cat. You can keep it. She has no heirs at all and nobody could find a testament." 3. Kapitel ---------- The rest of the week Steven Baker, the police inspector, came a few times to ask me some more stupid questions, to eat my cookies and to laugh about Pancake. One day he send one of his colleagues, who knew better how to behave. He ate more cookies, but he asked if he could have some. One afternoon, I was just writing the most exciting part of my book, I heard loud voices on the street and when I looked out of the window I saw on older man who tried to get into Mrs. Jones house. A young woman tried to detain him, but the man seemed to be very angry, although she really tried to calm him down. Next to them Romeo was sitting on a wall and seemed to wach them very interested. The next moment the man broke down. He had tried to thrust aside the woman and the next moment he fell on the earth. The woman kneeled down next to him, then she phoned someone, the ambulance, I guessed and Romeo jumped down the wall and ran away. I ran to the woman who was phoning someone again. "What happened?" asked I. " I don't know, he just fell down, maybe an heart-attack, but they don't just fell down. I think he's not breathing." "Who is this?" "I don't know, he just said he was be Mrs. Jones' friend. He said he'd read in the newspapers what happened. My name is Laura Rieser from the CID. My Chef Mr. Baker told me to come to you. You're Mrs. O'Connor, aren't you?" "Yes, I am. This man, what did he want in Mrs. Jones house?" Laura Rieser sat down on a bench, shaking her head. "I don't know. But it is forbidden. I couldn't allow it..." I just sat down next to her and so we waited for the ambulance. When they arrived Laura Rieser, the young policewoman had cooled down so much that she could explain what had happened. I still sat on the bench when I saw a car coming. It was Mrs. Riesers Chef, Steven Baker and he wasn't as calm as normal. That a man had died, fighting with one of his assistants seems to be one of the rare things which let his grin disappear. He looked around and said the only word a man like him would say in such a situation: "Fuck!" 4. Kapitel ---------- The next day Steven Baker and Laura Rieser came to me again and told me that this man probably died on the same way as Mrs. Jones, her son and her husband. "It's strange!", Mr. Baker said. "Everytime a normal, healthy person drops down dead I meet you there." "What do you mean? I have nothing to do with these deaths, I'm just living here. I didn't know this man. But I'd like to know what he wanted to do in Mrs. Jones' house." Mr. Baker shook his head. "Nothing, he was just shocked about her death. Maybe it was her lover or a good friend or something. It's not important." "But I've never seen him before. If he had been a friend or something I'd know it." "Why? You're just a neighbour. You're very nosy, but you can't know everything." I wanted to protest, but at this moment my doorbell rang and I stood up to open the door. It was Mr. O'Brien, an old man who lives in this village, too. "Mrs. O'Conner", he said. "There's something you should see." I followed him to the street and I saw Steven Baker and Laura Rieser coming, too. Mr. O'Brien indicated me two dark points on the meadow at the other side of the street. It were my cats, Hitchcock and Pancake. Both dead. I couldn't believe this. They weren't old cats, just five years old. "I'm so sorry", Laura Rieser said, but I didn't listen. We carried the cats into my garden, covered them with a blanket and went back into the house. "I'll make a cup of tea" the young policewoman said. I just sat down and starred on the tble. I couldn't believe this. This were everything I had. They were my cats since they were babies. "Maybe it's not the right moment", Steven Baker said. "But these cats...were they ill? I mean...can you imagine how they died?" "I don't know", I answered. "But young, healthy cats don't just drop down dead. This is not normal. Maybe they were hit by a car?" "Both? And if they were hit by a car, we had seen blood or something. This is not possible." "Not possible?" I jumped of the chair and it fell down on the floor. "Why are my cats dead? What happened to them?" He sighed. "This is our old problem, isn't it? These strange disease or murderer is dangerous for animals, too. This is not much what we know." "I don't care what you know! I don't care what happened to these people! I want my cats back!" This moment Laura Rieser brought a cup of hot tea, picked up my chair und pushed me down. "I'm so sorry", she said. "But you've got the cat of Mrs. Jones, haven't you?" Romeo, I had Romeo. 5. Kapitel ---------- This evening I went to the Pub. I didn't like Pubs, but this evening I needed it. I couldn't imagine to be alone in this big, dark house. Something I never felt before. I loved this house. It was the place where I wanted to stay all my life, but this evenig I needed some people around me. In the Pub they were of course talking about the dead. Mr. O'Brien had told everyone what had happened to Hitchcock and Pancake, so they all told me how sorry they were. But then the conversation came back to the man who had died in front of Mrs. Jones' house. "Maybe", Mr. O'Brien said. "Maybe he was looking for her diary." "A diary?" the barkeeper asked. "What diary?" "Don't you know?" Mr. O'Brien looked around. "Emily Jones wrote diary since she was11. She wrote just everything. I knew her all my life, we went to school together. This guy, the dead, he lived here, too. His name Andrew. Andrew Clarke. They were in love with each other, everyone knew this and she wrote many things about him in her diary. I know this because me and my friends stole it one day. She was 14 and we were maybe 17. They wanted to marry, but then she met Richard. You all know what happened, they had this son, Marcus, who died when he was 14. And Andrew went to Dublin. He became a manager or something, I don't know. But a few weeks ago he came back and wanted to take old Emily with him to Dublin. She told me the day before she died. She wanted to go and asked me to take this cat to animal shelter. But then she died." The old Mr. O'Brien became silent and nobody else said a word. I could only think about this diary. I was sure that I could find all answers in this diary, but how could I get it. I had no key anymore, but in one point I was sure. The diary had to be in the house. Everything was still in the house, because nobodys knew what to do with the things and the building. 6. Kapitel ---------- This night I went to house and tried to open the door. It was looked. Of course it was locked, but somewhere had to be a key. I looked under the doormat and finally found between the flowers. I opened the door and first smelled that nobody had opened a window in the last weeks. Anyhow I closed the door, put my flashlight on and looked around. I really felt like a thief, but I thought I had to do it. In the livingroom I saw a small box on the bookshelf. A found a key in it, and after a little bit of searching I found out that it was the of the drawer in her desk. There were all diarys since 1954. And here in the study of my dead neighbour, sitting on her desk I started to read. The first interesting part was in 1991 when Marcus, her son died. Only 14 years old. She wrote: The policemen and the doctors try to find out what happened. He died on the way to school. Nobody saw it. Just Romeo, the cat I found a few weeks ago. But Romeo can't tell what happened. Although he seems to be sad, too. Even if he didn't like Marcus. And Marcus didn't like Romeo... 1996 died Richard her husband. Mrs. Jones wrote: Now there's only Romeo left. If I had done what Richard wanted I wouldn't even have him. Richard didn't want to keep him, he said Romeo is a bad cat. That's wrong. He is a good cat. I know it. A few days before she died wrote Mrs. Jones that she wanted to go to Dublin with Andrew Clarke. Andrew is such a nice man. Maybe I should have married him and not Richard. Maybe my life had been better. I don't know. I will sell this house and ask Donald (O'Brien) to take Romeo to the animal shelter. I can't take him to Dublin. It's too big for a small cat. This is the best for both of us. This was strange. Everyone who didn't like Romeo had died and nobody knew how. Marcus didn't like the cat. Everyone here could tell that Emily Jones' son was everything, but not a good child. His school-visits were so rare that the teacher didn't even knew his face. I could remember watching him and his friends throwing stones on animals or smaller children. Romeo was his favourite victim. And he died with only 14 years. Richard Jones didn't like any animal. He always said it was to much work. He wanted to take Romeo to the animal shelfer. And he died. Emily Jones wanted to leave the village, she couldn't take Romeo with her and wanted to take him to the animal shelfer. And she died. Andrew Clarke wanted these diarys. If he had read them he could have noticed the same like me. And he died. My cats...They were not happy to share their home with Romeo. Hitchcock didn't let Romeo sleep on the couch and Pancake always ate Romeo's meals. And they died. Suddenly I heard a noise. I felt something on my leg, screamed and jumped off the chair. It was Romeo, he spat at me and seemed to be very angry. This moment I got really scared of this cat. I remembered the day Andrew Clarke died. Romeo had sat on this wall watching him. And when the man had died, Romeo had jumped down and ran away. Now I knew that it was this cat who had killed all the persons and I knew he would do it to me, too. I got panickly and threw the diarys at him. I could only think: Don't let him look at you, Don't let him look at you! I ran out of the house, and was alert to fall down dead every moment. But it didn't happen. But the next shock came at once. When I looked at m house I saw only red flames and smelled burning wood. My house, my garden and all my firs were burning. I couldn't think. I was scared of Romeo, shocked and completely in panic. I screamed and then everything went black. The next thing I can remember is that I woke up in a white, comfortable bed in hospital and heard a man's voice saying:"What do you mean nervous breakdown? I am a policeman, I'm from CID, I have to talk to her." A nurse opened the door and I saw Steven Baker standing there in his jeans and black leather jacket and this was the first time I was happy to see him. I told him all about Romeo and showed him the diarys when I was allowed to leave the hospital. I don't think that he believed me, but he showed me something, that made me really happy. Romeo was dead. He was lying in my garden. Nobody knew how he died, but he was dead. My house was totally damaged. The few things the fire hasn't destroyed were destroyed by the water of the fire department. Epilog: Epilog -------------- Now I am sitting in a nice hotel room, drinking my cup of coffee and writing the last lines of this story. In a few moments I am going to visit some flats in Killarny. I think I will buy one, but only in house were cats are forbidden. Steven will come with me, he should have arrived 10 minutes ago, so I think it will take 10 more minutes until we can go. He said I should buy a big flat with enough space for the children. He didn't answer my question what for children he was talking about. THE END!!! Hosted by Animexx e.V. (http://www.animexx.de)