The Psychic Adviser. Juan Moisés De La Serna

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      The commissioner, without saying a word and still with the coffee spilled on the table, left the room with great shouts.

      I stood there motionless without knowing what to do, I understood that I had done the right thing by telling him what I had seen, but I did not understand his reaction.

      From the chair I saw how he began to give orders left and right, and how the police from the police station began to move from one side to the other, some literally ran out of the police station, others picked up the phone and all of this I was a immobile spectator.

      I could not understand what all the fuss had come to be and if I had to withdraw or wait to continue the interview in that room.

      I made the move to get up and go, but the commissioner saw me at this and, returning to the doorway, said in an authoritative voice:

      “Don’t move from there.”

      I did so, and well, several hours passed, and despite the fact that I looked everywhere as the policemen came and went, all very nervous, surely, due to the shouts of the boss, until at a certain moment I saw entering the police station two of the policemen who had run away, and they were coming with a third man.

      “It’s him, it’s him,” I screamed, I don’t really know why.

      “Get him out of here,” said the commissioner to one of his subordinates, pointing at me.

      So in an instant I found that they had expelled me from the police station, if you can call it that, and without ceasing to guard me, they had kindly invited me to the cafeteria across the street where they had made me sit and wait.

      Although I asked several times, the policeman did not want to tell me what he was doing there, or how long he would remain, only that he must be sit and silent.

      I don’t even know how long I was there, but I took the opportunity to eat, since I hadn’t had anything to eat when I left so early for the police station to tell the police chief about my dream, so I ate and waited.

      It was all so strange, but hey, I had nothing better to do than wait there, I don’t really know what, but the police chief had ordered it that way, and that’s why I had, I don’t know whether to tell him an escort, but on two occasions I asked him to take me out of that place and he didn’t let me go anywhere.

      And it was all so strange that even the policeman who was guarding me offered to pay for my food, that was really weird! But I understood that it was a good sign, if I had been a, I don’t know what to tell it, a common prisoner, He would have never made that offer.

      Despite this, I thanked him, but I understood that I had to pay for my meal, so I did.

      Hours passed, and despite my continual questions to the policeman, he didn’t seem to care about time, he was just there, in front of me, sit, and quiet.

      Personally, I think he would have more interesting things to do, but that is what he had been told to do and he did so.

      At one point the walkie talkie that he had in his pocket sounded, which I had barely noticed, and the order was clear:

      “Bring him.”

      “Come on” he said, getting up from the place and not giving me time to finish my coffee.

      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 СКАЧАТЬ