If there was anything to like about Jerome Klein, it was that he was quick in divulging the generalities of his case, hitting upon the points most important to Ulrich within the first few minutes of their dialogue. In fact, despite his nervousness, Jerome's entire spiel seemed rehearsed somehow. This was probably not the first consultation he'd made with a private investigator regarding the matter.
Before Jerome could finish, Ulrich took a slurp from his mug and presented him with a question of his own. “Wait, why is it you're seeking my services in this case? Did someone refer you?”
Jerome nodded weakly.
“Who?”
Licking his lips, the reply came almost too softly to be heard. “Edgar Hudson, the private investigator.”
Ulrich's eyes narrowed in fondness and he peered up to the ceiling in smiling reverie. “Oh, Hudson sent you, did he? Why, I haven't seen him in ages. The two of us used to be close; I knew him as a student many years back. I'm surprised he couldn't handle this for you. Too heavy a case-load, perhaps?”
Jerome tittered nervously, before suddenly clamming up. “Not quite.”
“How do you mean?”
He blanched. “I couldn't afford his services. He said you were, uh… more in my price range.”
Ulrich took a long sip of coffee, draining his mug. “Huh.” Such referrals from his contemporaries were more common than he liked to admit. Though he got on well with his peers in the area, he also carried a reputation for laziness and lowbrow incompetence. If any job was too simple or demeaning for the likes of Hudson et al, they wouldn't hesitate to send inquirers Ulrich's way. They all charged more than Ulrich did, too; they had the reputations to command higher prices.
It didn't help, of course, that Ulrich often loathed his own clients and would go to great lengths not to accept new cases. Though he wouldn't have necessarily termed himself lazy, it would not have been a stretch to call him reticent where work was concerned. Ulrich preferred to pass his time reading, drinking coffee or taking in films. More often than not, his cases were mere interruptions to his life's passions– necessary evils he had to face in order to keep the money flowing.
He had to actively restrain himself from ordering Jerome out of his office that very instant, and was a few moments in calming down. Still, he needed the money. There was no way around it. Like it or not, he'd have to hear this paunchy clown out. It's always easier, he reminded himself, if the client doesn't know you hate him. He ran a hand through his graying hair, leaving it a tousled mess, and then cleared his throat. “So, you want me to find your… uncle, is that right?”
“That's right.”
The Sick House Description:
Some Places Should Stay Abandoned….
Dr. Siegfried Klein has vanished on a mysterious pilgrimage to an abandoned infirmary in the ghost-town of Moonville. The locals in the surrounding areas are tight-lipped, hostile to outsiders. Local legend has it that the old Sick House is packed with spirits, none of them friendly, and that to set foot in it is to enter Hell itself.
Enter Harlan Ulrich, private investigator and skeptic.
Traveling to the site, the detective begins the long process of separating truth from grisly local myth, and during his investigation stumbles upon certain frightful evidence that tries his nerve. He wants to find the doctor in one piece and weathers the hostilities of the locals even as their stories keep him up at night. But the longer he spends in the ghost town of Moonville, the more he feels the influence of something sinister in the shuttered infirmary.
When finally the truth is revealed and the infirmary’s sordid past comes to light, will Ulrich manage to escape with his life?
