Popular.com

As they had done almost daily for three weeks on the afternoon round of North Denver.

City detectives William Jackson and Roy Bloxham swung their police cruiser onto West

Moncrief Place and drove slowly past three similar appearing unpretentious homes.

Their eyes were directed toward the center of one of the three a two-story

structure of red brick with a white painted frame upper story and a steep pitch

shingle roof its blinds were tightly drawn otherwise it looked like most of the

other modest homes in the district all built built a score or more years ago.

It was the home in which, on the night of October 17, 1941, 73-year-old Philip Peters, retired

railroad auditor, had been bludgeoned to death in a fiendish manner by a killer whose identity had remained as obscure as his motive.

It was the house which, since the bloody slaying, has been known as a place of mystery.

Women who had come to stay with the slain accountant's widow had left the house with nerves grated thin.

Neighbors had come to police with stories of ghostly shadows in the night,

of strange noises, weird lights, and unholy odors.

Detectives Jackson and Bloxham had been in the house before,

in parties of officers who had searched it in vain for the

source of the mysteries, and they, like the others, had not been satisfied that the reports had all been

superstition. Let's go in and take another look around, Bloxham at the wheel, said to Jackson.

He pulled the car up to the curb in front of the house.

They went to the home to the west of and adjacent to the Peters Place where the key

to the haunted house was kept.

Going to the murder house, they stepped quietly into the porch, noiselessly turned the key in the door,

...