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Michael Vance Michael Vance
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THE SECRET BEHIND THE FORBIDDEN TRUTH


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Under the Double Star - Chapter One

Chapter One
THE OLD COMPTON STREET MURDER
It was mid-autumn of October 1888. During a late afternoon, stroll in the Whitechapel District. I came upon an area that is commonly described as being one massive shantytown by a corrupt and illicit populace who is better recognized as monsters. As I made my way further down into the district, I noticed that the streets were filled with garbage as well as human wastes laying upon every inch of cobbled stone in the Whitechapel District. The potent smell would make one queasy to their stomach; a handkerchief is needed if passing by a district like this. As the sky drew darker, people started emerging from nearby buildings.
By this time, the streets were crawling with half-witted drunken blokes; who were trying to get with women of the night, but who were not at all interested in giving them any service. By the time, I was half way into the district it began to rain. Without hesitation, I made my way over to the Ten Bells Pub, as I entered; it was noisy with the chatter from prostitutes and common folk trying to keep dry from the rain. As I took my seat nearest to the door, a dainty looking prostitute with long red ragged hair walk up to my table and spoke.  
“Well, hello there handsome. What is a man of your importance doing in a place this?”
“I am here because of the rain.”
"Would you fancy me to show you a good time?”
“No thank you, but thanks for the offer. But I would fancy a drink though.”
"Sorry love, but I have a customer waiting for me."
After leaving the crowded pub, I came across an old building, stared at it for several moments. Something about that building was vaguely familiar; I could not put my finger on it.  An hour had gone by; I had found myself in front of my house covered in mud. Mud that I somehow got on my close. Confused as I were, I stumbled my way to the front door of the house let myself in and headed up stairs to bed forgetting all that happened.
Early next morning, I woke up feeling as if there was something that I had forgotten or simply never took to recall. Therefore, as the morning progressed, I decided take a morning stroll to the Botanical Garden, which was located two blocks from my house. The fresh air always did me wonders heading off for a long day’s work at the office. After completing a walk around of the Garden’s it was off to work. I had completely forgotten to mention that I worked as a private investigator for a high-end company of West end Whitechapel district.


As I made my way into the office, I was immediately bombarded with a new homicide case, which was handed to me by Chief Investigator Frederick Jennings; who was certain I was the right man for the job. When I finally reached my desk, it took me a moment to recollect my thoughts before reading over the homicide case. As I began reading over the case; I reached into my desk took out several pieces of paper along with a quill and ink to take down important key points from the case. Minutes had passed I picked up my notes read them over, that is when I realized that a serial murder was on the loose. Without hesitation I picked up a piece of parchment ad begun writing an inquiry letter to Scotland Yard explaining why Jennings and Son's Investigation Amenities has not been told about the serial murder who was loose English soil and who was looking to desecrate its citizens.


Also, requesting that something be done about the so-called problem that Scotland Yard cannot do themselves. Obviously why else would they be sending me a homicide case? The only apparent reason is they need my help to find whoever was responsible for murdering Cornelius McDaniel. Cornelius McDaniel was a well-respected man with gentle heart; who was adored by everyone in his neighborhood. One beautiful day while making my rounds of Old Compton Street that is when I came upon the old McDaniel residence. As I moved towards the charming house to discover Mrs. Eleanor McDaniel sitting upon the fragmented marble stairway with tears, gently sloping down her porcelain doll-like face. As soon as I approached, Mrs. McDaniel without hesitation had erected herself up from the marble stairs and began to speak.


“Why did this have to happen to Cornelius my dear husband, he was such a clean strong-minded man. He did no harm to anyone he was like by the whole neighborhood.”
Soon after speaking with Mrs. McDaniel, she politely said her goodbyes, retreated into the old house. Minutes had passed before realizing that after the death of Cornelius McDaniel there was nothing that family could have done to prevent it from happening. The only option was to take avenge their loved one by taking immediate action on the individual responsible. After reminiscing for minutes on end knowing that, the McDaniel family would, take immediate action to avenge the one they have truly lost. Soundless while I was lost in thought at my study, there came a hastening knock at my chamber door. For a moment, I was guessing whom it might me this hour of the night that is when my head servant spoke. “Master Chamberlain you have a letter of urgency that has arrived for you earlier today. What would you like me to do? Should I bring it up for you or leave it upon the mantle place until you are ready to collect it?


Undoubtedly, I was not in my right mind to answer, so my head servant quickly went back down the side stairs and I left alone in complete silence once again. Later that evening as I am lying upon my chaise longue smoking hashish to calm my nerves and make me feel in control of my body that is when my mind. That is when my mind went completely blurry; minutes later hallucinations started exploding in my mind. They were detailed hallucinations of Cornelius McDaniel death. The murder took place in the old McDaniel residence. In a room similar to my own, but there was something different about the room it had been altered to look as if nothing had occurred in the room between Cornelius McDaniel and the criminal.
Perceptibly, something about the case file which did not add up. It was quarter past eleven when there was a swift knock coming from the side window of my study. For several minutes, the knocking stopped and continued for minutes on end. Until finally the knocking stopped altogether. I was quite skeptical to who it might be at this godforsaken hour. So, without hesitation I creped to the bay window to see who it could be. There standing down upon the dismal street stood man of low stature with a piece of mark parchment clutched in hand. The minute the man spotted me standing nearest to the bay window, he gave me a gentle wave, than indicated that I should open the window so that we can discuss important matters, which needed to be taken into account.
I rejected the marked parcel and told the gentleman it needed to be sent to Jennings and Sons Investigation Amenities due to high levels of urgent matters that must be well documented as well as accounted so that it shall be recorded until further use. Meanwhile, as I stood at the open window of my study that is when it began to rain. The cold air upon my naked flesh of my face, which felt comforting and tranquil; placing under a spellbinding enchanted allure. While under this enchanted allure the feeling of having no control takes over my mortal body making me feel as if I am floating above the clouds and the sensation as if I am the divine god Jesus Christ of heaven and hell.
As I the hour skulked by sluggishly, I began to reminisce about the homicide case, which intrigues me to know more about all that occurred the night before the murder took place. Moreover, if there is any possible witnesses that might have seen anything suspicious in and around the surrounding area of the old McDaniel's residence. That is when it became clear that whoever killed Mr. McDaniel was somebody that was very close to the family, perhaps a family member or even a family friend. Would not know without any possible eyewitnesses to testify what they had seen the night before Cornelius McDaniel departed from this earth on the morning of July 25 1888.
Scrambling through the case file to see whether there was a news clipping detailing important facts about the case and those involved. The deeper I read into the case the more important facts started and the more I understood what I was dealing with. It seems merely impossible understand the aspect of life through an hourglass. Could it be the same when solving a murder? To fully understand the killer it would be like walking in their shoes and knowing what they think and feel.


Weeks have turned into months that is when I began receiving letters from the McDaniel family saying that they want to avenge the loss of their beloved Cornelius McDaniel Senior, who was also a husband, father, a friend, and even a grandfather who will be missed by those who cherished him. The minute the grandfather clock struck twelve that is when uncanny things started to occur in and around the manor house. Strange sounds began echoing all through the manor house leaving me feeling uneasy and startled. Than the floorboards began creaking with the only logical explanation that there might be ghosts lingering in and around the manor house; which explains cold chills in certain areas on the manor house. The spirit was trying to make itself known by communicating with servants working all hours of the night in and around the manor house. However, there are times when I feel like as if I am alone in world, but I know that it is almost certainly impossible. For weeks now, employees have reported strange sittings of paranormal activity around the edge of the manor during all hours of the night.  
Oddly enough, I began looking back over the case file to see whether there was information that I have neglected to recognize. Several days have passed and I was on my way to meet Mrs. McDaniel to discuss her deceased husband's busine


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