The Psychic Adviser. Juan Moisés De La Serna
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After three cups, one could have waited a little longer, but he hadn’t, he had received orders and everything now had to be in a hurry.
So we went back to the police station, and they took me back to the glass room that they used as an interrogation room.
“Well, you’ll say,” I commented to the police chief when he entered the room where had remained in a corner that…, I don’t know how to say, guardian who had accompanied me and had not taken his eyes off me.
“How did you know?”
“What?” I asked without knowing what he meant.
“Don’t play dumb, how did you know?” he asked again.
“As long as it’s not more specific, I don’t think I can answer you.”
“We found the body,” he stated as he put some photos on the table.
“Ah, it’s her!” I said as I watched her. It was the first time I saw this kind of photos, it is true that on television they are showing them at all times, either in the news or in the police series, but it is different when you have it right in front of you.
At the moment it made me, I don’t know, a knot in my stomach, a bad body, something entered me that … I couldn’t help but vomit on one side.
“Easy, easy, that happens to everyone the first time,” said the commissioner as he handed me a box of tissues.
“Excuse me, it was the impression.”
“Yes, I still remember my first time, unfortunately for me it was not some photos, but a joke, so to speak, from my fellow colleagues. They thought it would be funny to go to the cemetery at night to show how brave we were, and… at a certain point they threw me into a hole, shallow, but where there was an uncovered coffin. For sure they had prepared everything for the occasion, but the impression of seeing a body from so close, in the cemetery, in the middle of the night, and illuminated with the flashlights that we brought, I assure you that it is quite an experience.”
“I guess,” I managed to say as I wiped my face and hands and threw the paper on the floor to cover up what I had stained.
“Don’t worry, they’ll clean it up shortly, and well, tell me how did you know?”
“What?” I asked again, understanding now that it was about the case that hours ago I had shared my dream of.
“How did you know about where he threw her?”
“I don’t know, I just told you what I saw.”
“It has taken us several hours and the help of various experts to narrow down the area, based on the speed, model and weight of the vehicle.”
“What?” I asked in amazement.
“Sure, how do you think we do things? We don’t leave anything to chance here. Locating the suspect was easy, you gave us his name and his profession, you practically led us to him. Then we searched his house and found nothing, while we looked for his car, and coincidentally he had it in the workshop, for I don’t know what problem with the shock absorbers.”
»We went to the repair shop, with the appropriate court order, and there we realized that the vehicle was not there because of what he had told us, but that he had requested the odometer to be rectified.
»I am not sure what he would mean by this, but that did not make our work more difficult, since the shop had recorded the number of kilometers before carrying out the requested handling.
“We looked carefully at the trunk, and we didn’t find any trace, not the slightest, not a single hair, but hey, we had to try.
“So we focused on where you told us, by speed, direction and distance, and we’ve been combing the area for the last few hours, until we’ve found the body.
“Wow, you are effective,” I commented in amazement.
“We just do our job, but now we have a problem.”
“A problem?” I asked surprised, as he had told me that they had already caught the culprit and that they had recovered the body.
“Yes, we have to prove that it was he and not someone else who threw her into the pond.”
“What about the DNA I’ve seen so many times on television?”
“No DNA, at least that we’ve found.” There is no trace in his house, neither in the vehicle and all we have is the body and the knife, which I already knew when I showed him the evidence in the case, he does not have any fingerprints or DNA of the aggressor.
“And what do you want me to do?” I asked, puzzled.
“We need something, no matter how little, something that helps us catch him, if not, in less than 24 hours we will have to let him loose and that despite having the body.”
“So you believe me? You do think it’s him.”
“Yes, I believe you, I don’t know how you did it, but I believe you. His testimony does not stand, he has been lying to us since we arrested him, and no one is able to determine the day and time of the crime, that is, he has no alibi, but we cannot place him there either.”
“Maybe yes,” I said after briefly remembering the dream.
“How?”
“Do you remember I told you that he had taken the body out of a park gate?”
“Yeah, what about that?”
“Well, the car was parked there, someone must have seen it, and with that they can place it in the vicinity.”
Without saying anything, the policeman left the room and began to shout, just as he would have done a few hours before.
After an hour or so he came back in and said with a big smile.
“We’ve got him!”
“Did anyone see the parked vehicle?”
“Better, there’s a jewelry store nearby, and they have a camera recording the display, since you don’t know what? You can see him removing the body, well the bag, and depositing it in his vehicle.”
“Wow, how lucky to have that camera.”
“Yes, this is enough to prosecute him, as there is evidence to judge him for the crime.”
That was my first contribution to solving a case, the first of so many that I no longer remember the number.
What I did not have time to explain on that occasion or in the successive ones in which I had that type of dream, is what I saw a posteriori. I don’t know why that part no longer interested them, it’s as if the police just wanted to know what had happened to the body, or where the kidnapped person was, but nothing of the rest that I saw.
But for me, that was the most enriching thing, if it can be called that, knowing that, whatever the circumstances of the last moment of life, then you continue living, or at least that is how I had experienced it.
A life outside the body, but not like when we dream, and we think we are flying, something that some call a splitting or a departure of a part of ourselves.
This was something else, it is as if the person were really alive, because they thought and felt, saw and listened, but without a body.
I don’t know why, but what I understood to be the most important thing, hardly anyone paid attention to me when I tried to tell it, arguing that my mission, if it can be called that, or my collaboration had ended from the moment I had given a response to the request, that is, to discover who had been, or where the person kidnaped or their body was.
To tell the truth, after a while collaborating with different authorities, there was not much that surprised me, the names and surnames of those involved did change, and perhaps also the methods, but the motivations, so to speak, did not change.