The Three (31 page)

Before I begin to answer your questions, I would like to make something clear. Exorcism is not a word I like to use. It has too many connotations. No, I exact ‘inner healing and spirit deliverance’. That is the service I offer. I also want to make it clear that I do not charge a fee for this service, but merely ask for a donation, of whatever amount the subject or client chooses to provide. I am also not affiliated with any particular church or religious institution. I just go about my practice in a slightly different manner. And business is very good at the moment. Let us just say that it is rare that I do not fly first class. At around the time I was contacted by Mr Craddock, I would say that I was doing up to three spirit deliverances and cleanses a day, all around Europe and the UK.

I ask Gerhard how Paul Craddock contacted him.

I have a number of ways in which prospective clients can get in touch with me. Mr Craddock contacted me through one of my Facebook accounts. I have several. I am also on Twitter, of course, and have a website. As his circumstances did not allow me to come to his residence, we agreed to meet at a location that I sometimes use for spirit deliverance.

(
He refuses to reveal this location
)

I ask him if he was aware who Paul Craddock was before they met.

Yes. Mr Craddock was very candid about this, but I assured him that our relationship would be confidential–akin to that of a doctor/patient agreement. I was aware of the theories about Jessica Craddock and the other children, but did not let these influence my diagnosis. I am only talking to you now because the news that
Mr Craddock contracted my services was leaked by his defence team.

I tell him that I have been on his website where he states that there is a spirit that manifests itself as homosexuality. I ask if he was aware that Paul Craddock was gay.

Yes, I knew of this. But I knew that in his case this wasn’t the root of the problem.

He was concerned that he or his niece was infested with bad energy, possessed, if you like. When we met, he was agitated, but not overly so. He kept saying, over and over again, that he had contacted me in order to ‘rule out this option’, and asked me to investigate this possibility. Mr Craddock told me that he was having extremely disturbing dreams, in which his dead brother would come to him, and that he was having difficulty relating to his niece. These are both symptoms of spirit possession and/or sickness induced by overexposure to negative energy.

I ask him if he was aware of Paul Craddock’s mental health issues.

Yes. He was very upfront about this. I am always careful not to confuse, for example, a schizophrenic episode with possession, but I knew immediately that this was not what I was dealing with. I am extremely intuitive when it comes to this.

I ask him how he usually goes about his spirit deliverance.

The first thing I do is settle the subject, make sure they’re comfortable. Then I anoint their forehead with oil. Any oil will do, but I prefer to use extra-virgin olive oil, as this seems to get the best results.

Next, I must decipher if I am dealing with bad energy poisoning or entity possession. If it is possession, the next step is to discover what kind of entity has attached itself to the client and call it out by name. Entities are disturbing and powerful phenomena that have made their way to earth from a different plane. They attach themselves to someone who is already
weakened, perhaps because of abuse or because they have been poisoned by someone else’s bad energy, which has allowed their defences to be compromised. There are many many types of entities; the ones that I specialise in are those that have found doorways into this realm through sites where much negativity has taken place.

I also do object cleansing, as objects can also harbour negative energy. This is why I always encourage people to be careful when handling antiques and artefacts from museums.

I ask him why, if Paul Craddock believed Jessica was also possessed, he didn’t request that she also be cleansed.

That was not possible because of his current situation. He said he was under surveillance from the press, who followed him and Jess everywhere.

But when he went into more detail about his symptoms, which included being plagued by the sense that Jess wasn’t the real Jess but a facsimile, I was certain that if it was an entity that was causing the problem, then it had attached itself to him, and not to his niece. The grief and anguish he would have suffered after his family was killed in the plane crash would have weakened his defences enough for him to be a prime candidate for possession. He also expressed concern that Jess could be an alien being, but I assured him that aliens don’t exist and he was more than likely dealing with a bad energy influx.

And, as soon as I tuned into him, I did indeed find that he was suffering from severe malaise caused by an over-toxification of bad energy. I assured him that once we had gone through the cleansing ritual–which involves anointing with oil and transference of bad energy via touch–he would no longer be plagued by the dreams he was experiencing or the belief that his niece was a changeling.

Afterwards, I warned him that although he had been cleansed, he was still compromised, and there would still be traces of bad energy inside him that could eventually attract an entity. I encouraged him to avoid stressful situations at all costs.

He thanked me, and as he left, he said, ‘There can only be one explanation now.’

I ask him if he knew what Paul Craddock meant by this.

Not at the time.

I operate in three states, selling just about anything that you can care to think of in the hardware line; there are still people out there who prefer to deal with a human being rather than a computer. I keep off the turnpike when I can. I prefer the back roads. Like my grandson Piper would say, that’s just how I roll. Over the years I’ve carved out several routes for myself, got my favourite places to stop off for coffee and pie, some of which I’ve been visiting for years, though more and more mom and pop outlets have been hit by the recession. I’m not a fan of those chain motels either, prefer the family-run joints. You may not get cable and Taco Bell on tap, but the company and the coffee’s always better and the rates are competitive.

I was running behind schedule that day. Wholesaler I’d seen in Baltimore liked to talk, and I’d lost track of time. Almost decided to take the interstate, but there’s this little roadhouse just before Mile Creek Road–one of my favourite routes which takes you near Green Ridge Forest–where the coffee’s good and the pancakes even better, so I decided to take the long way instead. My wife Tammy is always nagging me to watch my cholesterol, but I figured that what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her.

I made it there round about five, half-an-hour before closing time. Pulled up next to a new Chevy SUV with tinted windows. Soon as I walked in, I figured it had to belong to the small group sitting drinking coffee in one of the booths by the window. At first glance I thought they were just an ordinary family: a couple with their child, on a road-trip with grandma and grandpa. But when I looked closer, I could see they didn’t seem to fit together. There wasn’t that companionable ease you see with most families or holidaymakers; the younger couple especially looked on edge.
Could practically see the creases on the younger fellow’s shirt where he’d just pulled it out of its packaging.

I knew Suze, the short-order cook, would be wanting to head home, so I ordered my pancakes real quick and put extra cream in my coffee so that I could chug it down faster.

‘Po Po wants to go to the bathroom,’ the little kid said, pointing to grandpa. But the old fella hadn’t said a word. I could see there was something not right with him. Had a vacant look in his eyes, like my pa got right at the end.

The older woman helped the old fella shuffle his way to the bathroom. I greeted her as she passed my table, and she gave me a weary smile. Red hair you could see was dyed, an inch of grey roots. Tammy would have said that there goes a woman who hadn’t found the time to take care of herself in quite a while. I could feel eyes on me; the younger fella was checking me out. I nodded at him, said something about how we could do with some rain, but he didn’t respond.

They left a few minutes before I did, but they were still helping that old-timer into the SUV when I made my way outside.

‘Where you headed?’ I asked, trying to be friendly.

The younger fella gave me a look. ‘Pennsylvania,’ he said. I could tell he’d just pulled that answer out of his ass.

‘Uh-huh. Well, drive safe.’

The older, red-haired woman gave me a tentative smile.

‘Come on, Mom,’ the younger woman said to her, and the redhead jumped as if she’d just been pinched.

The little kid waved at me and I winked back at him. Cute little guy.

They took off at a clip, heading in the wrong direction for Pennsylvania. That SUV would’ve been equipped with GPS, and I could see the young fella knew what he was doing. Guess I thought, none of my business.

I didn’t see it happen. I came around the bend; saw the broken glass. The Chevy was on its roof on the wrong side of the road.

I pulled over, dug in the back for my first-aid kit. Driving as much as I do, you’re apt to encounter a lot of accidents, and I’d
been keeping a kit in the car for years. Even did a course a couple a years ago.

They’d hit a deer. I figure the young fella musta yanked too hard on the wheel and flipped the car. Could see straight off that the two at the front–the driver, that young fella, and the young woman with the hard eyes–were gone, and it would have been quick. You couldn’t tell which parts was deer, which parts was human.

The old fella in the back was gone, too. No blood, but his eyes were open. Looked like he was at peace.

The woman with the red hair was a different story. There wasn’t much blood on her, but I could see her legs were trapped. Her eyes were open, and they were dazed.

‘Bobby,’ she whispered.

I knew she must mean the boy. ‘I’ll look for him, ma’am,’ I said.

Couldn’t find him anywhere at first. Figured he must have been flung out of the back window. Found his body two hundred yards from the vehicle. He was in the culvert, lying face up, as if he was watching the sky. You can tell when the soul is gone. There’s an emptiness. Looked like there wasn’t a scratch on him.

There was no way I could get the woman out of there–needed the Jaws of Life to do that–and I was worried she might have spinal injuries. She’d stopped crying by then and I held her hand as she drifted away. I listened to the sound of the engine ticking and waited for the cops.

I only found out who they were the next day. Tammy couldn’t believe I hadn’t figured it out sooner; that boy’s face was always plastered over the magazines she gets.

Didn’t seem right. What are the chances of that poor kid being in two fatal accidents? I’d been planning to keep on going right till Tammy forced me to retire, but maybe this whole thing is a sign that it’s time to quit. A sign that enough is enough.

OFFICE OF THE CHIEF MEDICAL EXAMINER STATE OF MARYLAND

Examination and summary analysis performed by:
Alison Blackburn, MD, Chief Medical Examiner

Initial examination:
Gary Lee Swartz, MD, Deputy Chief Medical Examiner

Osteological examination:
Pauline May Swanson, Ph.D., ABFA

Toxicology examination:
Michael Greenberg, Ph.D., DABFT

Young, male boy with superficial abrasions of forehead, nose and chin. Complete dislocation between C6, C7 and C7, T1. Severing of inter-vertebral disc and anterior ligament C6, C7. Fractured spinal process C6. Partial tearing of posterior root filaments and multiple bleeding points observed.

Traumatic disruption of cervical cord.

Accidental death consistent with ejection from a motor vehicle.

Bobby Small, a 6-year-old male, was the sole survivor of a plane crash 6 months ago, in which his mother was killed. He suffered minor injuries in the crash from which he made a full recovery. He was being targeted by a religious group and a decision was made to move him to a place of safety with his grandparents. All three were being transported in a Chevrolet Suburban SUV by two FBI agents. Bobby was seated between his grandparents in the rear of the vehicle where he was secured by a lap seat belt. At approximately 5 p.m. they stopped at Duke’s Roadside Diner in Maryland. The group were observed there by Mr Joseph DeLesseps, a travelling salesman. They stirred his interest as he thought them a strange group. The adults had coffee and Bobby had a strawberry milkshake and a plate of fries. The group left around 5.30 p.m. followed soon after by Mr DeLesseps, who saw the Suburban drive off at speed. At approximately 5.50 p.m. Mr DeLesseps rounded a bend in a wooded section of the road and spotted the Suburban crashed at the side of the road. He found the vehicle against a large tree with a dead deer partially on the hood of the car and partially through the shattered windshield. In the vehicle were two dead people in the front seats and a dead elderly man in a rear seat. There was a severely injured elderly woman in the other rear seat. There was no sign of the little boy he had seen in the diner, so Mr DeLesseps searched around the vehicle. He found the body of the boy in a small culvert two hundred metres from the SUV. There was no sign of life. He called 911 immediately.