Occult Investigator. Bob Psy.D. Johnson

of my friend Vincent’s detective agency, to this point was mainly friendly discussion and a semi-fact finding mission on his part to determine if there really was anything to my idea. We kicked around the possibilities, often returning to the problem of whether people would think they (Vincent and his business) were a bit loony, but there was no solid commitment or even an invitation on Vincent’s part to provide some proof that this kind of business could succeed.

      But all that changed after my Salem excursion. I was now confident that when I returned to New York from my ghost hunting adventure with bonafide digital evidence of a real ghost sighting, Vincent would be a lot more receptive and hopefully lot less of a skeptic. What I didn’t bargain for was that when I got back to my Manhattan apartment I would find a message on my telephone answering machine from a woman at Vincent’s office who identified herself only as Silvana, saying that she was working with Vincent on a “special” case that involved things she described as “out of the ordinary.” Of course I was pleasantly surprised and intrigued first with the nature of the message, and also Silvana’s interesting Eastern European accent that I couldn’t directly place, but knew must have been Russian or Polish. I’m usually pretty adept at picking peoples’ origins from their accents, but because the message contained a sense of urgency tinged with some kind of underlying concern or worry, Silvana’s place of origin was a tough call.

      The message was coincidentally delivered on the same day of my haunted library excursion in Salem, and mentioned that Vincent thought this case was especially suited for Silvana and I. Even though we had never worked together, Silvana’s message said that I shouldn’t be concerned about how she knew Vincent, or me for that matter, or what the case entailed, but that I should simply call and meet with her as soon as possible. She added that she wasn’t concerned about the lack of any formal organized framework within Vincent’s organization for paranormal investigations. She said, “This is the kind of investigation most people would think is bizarre and possibly crazy. But…you now know, as do I, that there are many things that cannot be explained, and there are but a few of us who are more than just curious…we are destined to uncover the unexplained.”

      At first I thought Vincent was playing one of his infamous practical jokes, goading me into thinking that he came around to forming the special unit, so I’d rush into his office, arms flailing and spouting a hundred ideas. He’d then burst out with the bogus “Silvana” laughing hysterically next to him. But the next message on my machine confirmed what Silvana had said. It was Vincent’s secretary, Barbara, who was always as serious as death and never known to goof around. Barbara said Vincent was out of town but that I should call Silvana immediately. “It was very important.”

      Not really knowing who Silvana was, or if she even existed, and not convinced that this wasn’t a trick of some kind, I instead waited until Vincent returned to town in the next few days. I didn’t want some nutty joke overshadowing the real proof I just uncovered and ruin the possibility of convincing Vincent about the viability of X-Investigations.

      I visited the offices of Intercontinental Investigations one rainy Tuesday morning with Betsy’s borrowed digital camera in hand. I was adamant about convincing Vincent about my paranormal experience, so I knew I had to put the evidence right on his desk so he could see it with his own eyes. He greeted me as cordially as usual but before I could say a word he asked if I contacted Silvana. I told him I didn’t because of obvious reasons, and he became curiously agitated and said that Silvana had just the case I was looking for to start X-Investigations. Before he could pick up the phone to call her I stuck the camera under his nose with the glowing photo and said, “Vincent, I’m glad you said that. Now look at these photos. Tell me what you see.”

      “I see you holding some gadget in an old house with a blob of light reflecting on the picture.” I told him that this was no blob of light but an actual ghostly orb captured digitally. “C’mon, this is a picture of a ghost? It’s dust on the lens,” Vincent said. It took me the better part of an hour of raised eyebrows and Vincent snickering to convince him that orbs are one of the most common paranormal phenomena captured and I described in detail the coldness, the malevolent feelings and the lurking presence in the dark that both Betsy and I felt. It took some doing, but Vincent knew that if I was this passionate about something he’d better listen. After an intense accounting of what took place at the Salem library story, Vincent became mesmerized and by the end of my tale he was hanging on every word. When I showed him the remainder of the orb photos he simply said, “I’ve got chills running up and down my spine. But I need more proof.”

      The detective agency often used forensic specialists to investigate and analyze the most obscure evidence and clues imaginable, and although I suspected that most of Vincent’s experts never did much ghost hunting I suggested to him that he have the camera analyzed by one of his associates to validate the legitimacy of the photo and whether there as any “normal” interference that may have cause the appearance of the orb. If there were dust or reflections on the lens it would be detected by these modern day super sleuths. If there wasn’t, I was sure that I could convince Vincent that other worlds existed beyond our own, and more importantly persuade him to back my fledgling idea to help discover why these worlds exist and why they often intrude on this plane of existence we call “reality.”

      It didn’t take long for Felix, Vincent’s forensic photography expert to give us the results in the detective’s office a few days later. His report stated that from all of the data supplied to him, the camera, its digital disc and optics were working just fine. He also reported that the digital images taken by Betsy that night were not tampered with in any way. There were no scratches on the camera lens, and there was no discernable dirt or dust. Felix added that any reflection that would have appeared on the photo would not have cause such a porous image, but would rather have appeared solid. He told us that a light reflection would have “blurred” deeply and the orb on the photo was nearly transparent. The bottom line was that Felix delivered the detective work we wanted to hear…the photos were legitimate and the orb appearance could not be explained. For all intents and purposes, we had caught a ghost on camera!

      Feeling vindicated and confident that I could make a go of X-Investigations, I asked Vincent straight out if we could use his office as headquarters. He still wasn’t convinced about the viability of a ghost busting occult investigations division of his company, but he remembered Silvana and her almost frantic plea to him about a woman in dire need of help…not normal private detective assistance, but something that would require specialized expertise. He told me that I should first speak with Silvana to see what her situation involved. If we could fit it all together, Vincent said he’d back our endeavor.

      Silvana gave Vincent only a sketchy idea of our would-be maiden case. The most he knew was that it involved a woman on the East Side who had a recurring problem with “unknown forces,” and that she was at her wits’ end. “There was something about her freaking out at a café and the owners were threatening to sue her if she didn’t stop harassing them about a curse or some nonsense,” Vincent told me. I knew that there was something Vincent was reluctant to tell me…that was his style, tease a case so the investigator got interested enough to flesh out the details and become so absorbed in the investigation that it becomes an obsession. But he didn’t have to play games to get me involved with this case. I figured that any case that would launch X-Investigations was worth pursuing. I wasted no time and called Silvana that evening at her home. What she told me not only piqued my curiOccult Investigatorty, but it allowed me a peak at a world only a few dare to visit.

      She answered the phone with a distinct Czech accent, “Ahhlow.” She said. I began to introduce myself by saying “I am…” but she cut me off in mid-sentence and said, “I know who you are, Mr. Johnson. You have waited too long to contact me…we must act quickly for there is a woman’s life at stake.” Before I could ask her how she knew it was me, she said that she was a clairvoyant and medium with psychic abilities, and if I needed proof she said I was to meet with her that very evening. “If you’re psychic,” I said, “Then you should know where I’m thinking about meeting right now.” I waited for an answer but the phone line was dead. “Weird,” I thought. But then my apartment buzzer rang and the doorman said I had a message left