for Murder This story is told by a man that works in a bank. He is not married and lives in an apartment in Piccadilly in London. The year is 1865 and he called to sit on a jury28 at the old Bailey, London's Central Court. read this story in my morning newspaper. And then a very strange thing happened to me. I saw that bedroom from the newspaper story in front of my eyes. I saw the room clearly. I saw the bed, but happily there was no dead body in it. It was like a scene from a moving picture. It lasted less than a second and then it was gone I was in the living room of my apartment in piccadilly in London. I went to the window for some fresh air. llooked down at the street below There were two men there. One was walking about ten meters in front of the other. The hrst man often looked back over his shoulder The second man was holding his right arm in the air. Did he want to hit the first man? There were other people in the street, but nobody seemed to see these two men. Then they both looked up at me. I saw their faces very clearly. The first man had an evil look on his face. The second man had a white and bloodless face. He looked like a ghost. The story of the murder was in all the newspapers. Everyone talked about it for weeks. I did not read any more about it. I was not feeling well and I was very busy with work Then the police caught a man and sent him for trial I was standing in my bedroom one night. Then I saw my bathroom door open and a man looked in. It was the second man from the street in Piccadilly the man with the ghostly face. He looked at me and then he disappeared. I ran across the bedroom and opened the door. The bathroom was empty. a letter from the Old Bailey The next morning I received to sit on a The letter called me to court in November. I had jury in a murder trial. A thick fog sat over The trial started on a cold morning. big London. I waited with the other eleven jurors in the on courtroom. Two police officers brought in the prisoner trial for murder. And, yes, it was the first man from the street in Piccadilly. very unhappy. He When the prisoner saw me, he became give no reason did not want me on the jury. But he could He did not even know my name. The trial lasted ten days. Hotel. We all slept The jury stayed at the London Tavern through the in one large room. Moonlight and fog came in night. On the windows. A police officer watched by the door all The second second night I could not sleep And then I saw him. the fog from the street. He moved in a ghostly way, like He went up to each bed and looked at each sleeping juror. Then he seemed to leave the room through a high window. The next morning at breakfast, we talked about our dreams. Every juror had dreamed of the murdered man On the fifth day, a drawing of the dead man was shown in court. The police had found it in the prisoner's pocket. A police officer brought it to me. Suddenly someone got up from the public seats. He came and spoke to me. "I was younger then, he said"and I still had blood in my Nobody else in the room heard or saw the man. But he was not a man. He was the dead man's ghost. Sometimes the fog came into the courtroom through the windows. It moved around thinly in the courtroom. Was I seeing the fog or a ghost? I was not sure After that the ghost was always in court. The court questioned many people. When a woman said the prisoner was a kind man, the ghost came close to her. He looked into her face and pointed at the prisoner's evil face. The woman did not see the ghost, but she became nervous and changed her story. When a doctor said the man had killed himself, the ghost ran up to him. The ghost showed with his hands that he could not cut his own throat. The doctor did not see the ghost but he started to shake. He also changed his story. On the last day of the trial the jury left the courtroom. We had to decide if the prisoner was guilty. We did not disagree. We all agreed that the prisoner had clearly murdered the man in his bed. Two hours later we returned to the courtroom. The ghost of the murdered man stood across from the jury. He looked closely at my face. He looked pleased. was rrying a thin, gray blanket. He put the blanket over his head and body. I stood up."Guilty," I said. As I spoke, the gray blanket fell to the floor. It was empty The ghost of the murdered man had gone. The murderer was allowed to say a few words. "When I saw that man," he said, and he pointed at me, "I knew my life was over. Before I was caught, that man came to my bedside in the night. He woke me up and put a rope 29 around my neck.