Cumin: Book 1

You Always Start by Feeling Useless

"My research tells me that nothing out of the ordinary ever occurred in this house, besides the father of the previous owner having a borderline obsession with Thailand. The owner before him built the house in the late 1940's during the economic boom, but soon after had to sell due to the recession. But our Thai fan made quite a living off of collecting and selling Thai antiques. He lived here till he died in 1996, afterwards which the house was empty until his son could sell it in 2003 to our client. Apparently the disturbances didn't start until he had been here for a week or so. For a while he passed it off as some malfunction of the house and slept with earplugs until the contractors he had hired could find the flaw. Since they found none, and also with the development of the crying getting past said earplugs, our client grew desperate to be able to sleep in his own home and that is where we come into the picture." Naru snapped the narrow black folder closed. "And before you ask, no, a baby hasn't died here in the past, nor has any children at all."

We had all gathered back to base, in front of the lone lit fire in the seemingly abandoned house, to eat our pasta and breadstick lunch and get the info from our boss. Takigawa, Ayako, and I enjoyed the deliciously comfy huge couch while Naru and Lin sat in their metal folding chairs. Naru could have not moved once from his spot since I'd woken up that morning, just staring at his laptop and listening to the screeching baby recordings over and over.

"Was there anything here before the house was built?" I asked, twirling noodles about my fork. "We did have that one case where the spirit didn't inhabit the house itself, but a well that it had built over."

"I'm currently looking into that possibility, but so far I haven't found any records of the previous owners even having the same issue as our Mr. Hinogashi. Like I stated before: nothing extraordinary has ever happened in this house."

"Until now," said Ayako, daintily sipping at her tea. "Are you sure the owner isn't running some secret baby killing clinic in the basement or something?"

"Who the hell would run a baby killing clinic?" I cried.

"The house doesn't even have a basement," said Naru dryly. "I've double verified this during my standard exam of the ground beneath. There isn't even a hole, and I highly doubt our client is the type of man to have anything to do with children. He likes his quiet, which is partially the reason why we will have the house to our selves until the end of the case. With that in mind I would appreciate it if none of you did anything that might stain the carpets, like slurping your spaghetti like a five year old."

Just as he said that, the noodle I'd been sucking up smacked me between the eyes. I gave him my best big eyed, innocent look and prayed there wasn't red sauce around my mouth as well. He just gave me the usual 'you're an idiot' look.

Ugh, how did I ever fall in love with this man?

"Since you've gotten a feel for the house and the situation, I'd like to hear your thoughts. Takigawa-san?"

"Since you've ruled off a site-bound spirit, I think we might be dealing with a possessed vessel of sorts. Maybe the problem isn't the house, but something the client owns. Do you think it would be okay if we looked through his stuff for anything that might hold the spirit of a baby?"

Naru nodded. "I've already called to ask just that. My thoughts were much the same. Ayako?"

"I think you best get on with that info on what might have been here before the house was built. It could be a spirit attached to the earth itself."

"But that's where it get's strange," Takigawa put his plate down and set his chin upon his folded hands, thoughtfully. "I've never heard of an infant ghost, because infants don't know enough to be held back from passing on. They're completely innocent—pure. No hatred, no jealousy, no anger or anguish."