A crime and... an unexpected change of places.

My father burst into my room, clearly having some urgent business. Was he trying to make me happy as part of the end-of-year celebration? Because he really did look like he'd discovered some treasure. I was already scared.

"Dagmara, we need to talk.

" "I don't have time right now. I'm just going to Kinga's. We need to celebrate the end of the school year," I told him, busy choosing the right outfit.

"You'll be right there, but first I want to tell you something." He persisted.

"Just hurry, we're meeting at seven. I have an hour.

" "Okay, have a seat. Remember how I told you there was a nice plot of land for sale? I bought it. There's a rather nice little house there, the neighborhood is very pleasant, and the garden is quite large. We'll move at the beginning of the summer." With each subsequent sentence, my face fell, and finally a look of utter shock appeared on my face.

"How could you!?" I exclaimed. "Why didn't you even ask me for my opinion?"

"I told you so. You told me to do what I thought was right.

" "Because I thought this deal would never happen. You always wanted to buy a cottage in the country, but you never did, so I thought it wouldn't work this time either. Did you even think about Mom?" I said, outraged. "We'll move to some place called Wypizdów Górny, and there won't even be anyone to light a candle on her grave. I thought... and anyway, I don't want to talk about it today," I said, resigned. "I'll be late. I'll be back at... I don't know what time, but don't wait for me.

" "Does being a good father mean agreeing to everything?" "

Dad, don't think about it, or you'll come to some conclusions later," I said, closing the door behind him, finally getting ready to leave.

Why did my father decide to realize his dream of a cottage in the country now? It would be a nightmare. I've always lived in the city, just a few steps from any store, and besides, what am I saying, I'm just a few steps from everywhere. Now I'm about to move to some backwater town where the nearest civilized place will probably be several kilometers away. It's a nightmare.

Here, I'm anonymous; hundreds of people walk past me, and most of them pay me no attention, except maybe my upstairs neighbor, who looks out the window all day and seems to keep a meticulous record of what's happening in the neighborhood. After all, I'm a private person, and I've heard more than once from friends who went to visit their grandmothers or aunts in the countryside that practically every house has an old woman sitting on a bench, and it's good if it's just one, and that they can slander the entire village. They won't leave anyone unpunished. Because knowing where someone is, what they wore in church, what renovations they're doing, and why Mr. and Mrs. X's cow died is the meaning of their lives. In the city, most people work and don't have time to gossip about their neighbors, at least not to the same extent as they do there. How could my father do something like that to me? Trading a four-room apartment on the eighth floor of a high-rise for some tiny little place in the countryside isn't for me...

- Dagmara! You'll get hit by a car if you keep admiring those cracked sidewalk tiles." Kinga, whom I hadn't noticed before, shouted.

"Hi. I'm on the verge of a serious depression," I greeted her with great optimism.

"Well, you do have reason to be. You finished your sophomore year of high school with honors, you'll probably go to the Caribbean again, but if it's going to waste because you're going to feel sorry for yourself for some unexplained reason, I'll gladly trade places with you." She acknowledged my moodiness with a smile.

"No Caribbean, just a desolate village.

" "What?" And then she asks... "I-won't-say-that-say-it-because-the-thought-of-it-makes-me-shiver..." "Where?" she asked again, as if she thought I hadn't heard.

"To the countryside, you didn't.

" "Isn't that what I mean, where exactly is this village?"

"And how am I supposed to know that?" I asked with a long-suffering expression. "My father made me happy with this news five minutes ago. He did mention something, but I didn't really listen to him then, and now I regret it. I could have talked him out of it then.

" "Don't get hysterical. Find out where it is, what it's like there, and everything. If it's nearby, we'll ride our bikes and check out the area and then we'll think about it. And you, consider the positive aspects of this move. Fresh air, food without preservatives, milk straight from the cow, eggs, vegetables, fruit...

" "Pure paradise," I said ironically.

"I can't stand this nagging any longer, let's go, everyone's probably waiting for us."

Luckily, I forgot about that nightmare for the rest of the evening and had a wonderful time, even until four in the morning. My father didn't wait for me; he knew from experience that I'd come back in one piece. He only ever told me to be able to get up for school the next day. Nothing else mattered to him.

My mother died of cancer when I was eleven.

Since then, I've only had my father, who tried to allow me everything within reason, and I used that freedom quite wisely. Over the past six years, he's gained complete trust in me because I'm a good student, even very good, I don't come home drunk at night, and if I do, it's in decent shape, and I always have at least two people to walk me home with, or I take a taxi, which my father, of course, reimburses me for later.

Before I fell asleep, I'd decided to talk to him calmly in the morning and find out everything I could. Unfortunately, morning came very late.

"I made breakfast. Will you get up?" He greeted me sleepily and opened the blinds, which completely blinded me.

"Wait. Maybe..." I groaned.

"I'm waiting with my coffee," he said with a smile and left.

He always knows what I need after a sleepless night. I think I realized I shouldn't have jumped him like that yesterday and that this move wouldn't be so bad after all. Kinga was right, fresh air...

Finally, after a long struggle with my shorts and T-shirt, I managed to reach the kitchen. The smell of coffee instantly brought me back to my feet, and the toast effectively put me on my feet. Wow, I didn't even know I was so hungry. What did I actually eat yesterday? I guess I didn't have time for that... If you forget about things like that, it ends badly...

Dad always knows what I need and what I like most. What would I do without him?

After I'd had my fill, I decided to talk to my father about his irrational idea of ​​moving to the country.

"Is this house far from here?" "

I see you've thought this through? I was starting to worry I'd have to sell it.

" "No exaggeration, but by the way, why was it for sale?"

"There used to be a crumbling nobleman's manor house there, an old ruin. Someone bought it, demolished it, and built a new house. I looked at it, and I'm pleased," he began, piqued by my interest. "It's small, with fairly modern interiors, single-story with an attic. It turned out, however, that it was built over the manor's basements and perhaps even dungeons, because no one had any intention of demolishing what was underground. And interestingly, apparently, the house is haunted now. The White Lady and the like. The owner is kicking himself for not checking the basements after all. He did find an entrance, but he couldn't open it because it was some kind of hatch in the floor. There should probably be a hidden lever somewhere, but now it's time to look for the wind in the wind." He was even willing to try dynamite to get in there, because he was sure that's where the secret lay, but a pyrotechnician friend he'd asked for advice advised him against it. My wife had a nervous breakdown and had to put the house up for sale.

"I thought the cows had gotten into their bedroom or something, but I see they had quite normal reasons," I said in such a bitter voice that my father winced.

"Stop it. You don't believe in ghosts, do you?

" "No, and I've got that from you.

" "I see we'll come to an agreement," he finally replied with relief. "I found a buyer for our apartment, and they've already made up their minds. I put a down payment on that house, and in about two weeks, we'll be living there.

" "What exactly does that mean, there?

" "Haven't I told you yet?" My father couldn't believe he'd forgotten such a crucial detail. "It's less than thirty kilometers from here. Traczyniec Mały.

" "How small?" I asked again, my face sour. "Okay, okay, can I go there with Kinga?

" "Of course, you'll ask anyone about the haunted house, and they'll show you the way. How are you planning to get there? By bus?"

My dad always comes up with the wrong ideas. I could even drive there, but wouldn't it be better to go for a bike ride? If I had to pay for a ride in a stuffy and crowded bus, I'd have to hit my head first. Sixty kilometers round trip didn't scare me. I decided to shower and go to Kinga's. Her mom would definitely provide us with provisions for the journey.

Hello adventure! Yesterday I received my certificate, and today I'm setting off into the unknown. Not bad pace. I think this trip will finally help me decide whether I want to live there or not, because I still have mixed feelings about it. I wonder what my mom would do if she were alive? She'd probably be happy, but as we all know, women are fickle...

Kinga's mom made us sandwiches and gave us juice and some fruit. At least we won't starve on the way, and it will be a very long one.

The word was spoken, and we left the scorching city walls. Using a road map and my own experience, we somehow reached our destination. When I saw this village, I began to wonder whether to kill myself or my father first. True, many new houses were being built here, and judging by the scale of the construction, it was easy to tell that these weren't ordinary mortals who intended to live here. Lately, the trend of living in harmony with nature has been everywhere, and everyone is moving from the city to the countryside. It's no wonder, then, that such a village at the end of the world is so popular among the upper classes. The more isolated they are from the rest of the world, the better for them. Unfortunately, not for me. There are only a few shops here, and that's it. The city in the opposite direction from where we came is about fifteen kilometers, and even that's supposedly just a small town. The overall impression was awful; now it's time to see what my future cozy little home looks like. Unfortunately, finding the right one among the many houses under construction was difficult, so we had to enlist the help of the locals. Just as Dad said, the first person who came along showed us the way without a problem.

At least he wasn't wrong in his assessment of the house. It was small, very neat, and meticulously finished. A huge garden, carefully tended by the previous owners, added to the charm. There weren't any vegetables or anything like that growing there. There was grass and small conifers everywhere, and beautiful flowers bloomed along the sidewalks. We decided to see what it all looked like from the inside. Luckily, someone was there, so we didn't have to break in.

"Good morning," we said. "Can we see the house? My father bought it from you. Almost.

" "Of course, you're welcome." The man looked a little flustered, clearly trying to act normal. "Would you like something to drink? It's terribly hot today. Maybe some cold juice?

" "Thank you, I'd love to. Your wife's not here?

" "Unfortunately, she was feeling unwell and went to her mother's," he barely managed to get the words out. "

Was she scared by a ghost?" I asked without preamble.

"You already know?" He visibly relaxed. "I don't know what to think. Everything above ground was demolished and this house was built on it, and although there's an entrance to the basement, there's no way to open it. I hope this ghost doesn't drive you out of here so quickly. My wife is very sensitive, and because of this ghost, she has to see a psychotherapist again. Do you know how much such visits cost?

" "I imagine. It's very nice here. Did your wife arrange everything?"

"Yes. I'm just waiting for the carrier to pick up the rest of the furniture, and I'm leaving too," he said with obvious relief in his voice. "For now, we'll be staying with my in-laws, but I've already bought a new plot of land, and construction starts there next week.

" "Did you see this ghost?"

"No, of course not.

" "Interesting, really interesting... Well, we have to go now, we'll look around the neighborhood some more. Thank you for your hospitality. It's a truly beautiful house. Goodbye."

Kinga left the house completely convinced that this guy had seen a ghost and was also terrified of it. She also advised me to hire a good exorcist or start saving up for a psychotherapist. What am I supposed to do with all this? Besides me and my father, everyone believes this ghost nonsense. Maybe there's something to it?

It was from my father that I inherited my unwavering belief in the possibility of scientific explanations for all irrational events. Sometimes it was downright morbid, because high school teachers, for example, sometimes act under the influence of supernatural forces. Kinga tried to explain it to me many times, until she finally gave up and said I'd see for myself. Well, I did see it just last week. One of them really bothered me so much that I won't forget it for a long time. He must have really been on the dark side.

Kinga didn't give up this time either. Surely all these people couldn't be having visual hallucinations. However, I remained steadfast in my principles throughout, and of course, I was terribly irritated. Could I even say that black is white and white is black if it could be logically explained?

Fortunately, I didn't take such an extreme stance, but I knew that deep down I didn't and wouldn't believe it. Not for anything! Kinga said she would visit me in my new country house only after I got rid of the ghost and its surroundings. She wouldn't risk her nerves. I didn't want to argue with her, so we decided to get something to eat. We saw an orchard on the way, so it would be nice to stop and eat there.

It was all a bit strange, and everything told me there was some hidden agenda, and it definitely wasn't meant to be about the basement floor. Suddenly, I wanted to get inside that house as quickly as possible and come face to face with the ghost. It would be an incredible experience. My skepticism from yesterday and this morning has vanished. Unfortunately, for now, I have to endure at least another week, which will require me to pack everything in the house. The day after tomorrow, the housekeeper is coming and will help me a little, but I'll still have to do most of it myself. By the way, I wonder if we'll have a housekeeper here? Maybe Father has already arranged it, or maybe not; he never has the time for the most important things. He's probably taking care of some buying and selling paperwork right now, and besides, he's probably applying for a vacation, which, as I know his company, they won't grant him.

This kind of weather can make you sleepy. We spread a blanket under an apple tree, ate sandwiches, drank juice, and almost fell asleep. Finally, four o'clock was inevitably approaching, so we started to get ready. We were exactly twenty-six kilometers from home. It was so much easier now that we knew the route. We decided to pick a few more apples, but unfortunately, it wasn't easy, because a guy with a shotgun appeared in our field of vision.

"Get out of here! Go to the store if you want apples! I'll call the police right away! What an audacity! Get out!" yelled some old man with a double-barreled shotgun.

When he started aiming his shotgun at us, we took to our heels. However, I managed to collect a whole bag of plump apples, and if I wasn't mistaken, Kinga did the same. We'd already packed everything, so now all we had to do was get on our bikes and flee the furious orchard owner. We rode at what seemed like the speed of light until we finally got so tired we had to rest. It turned out we'd already covered seventeen kilometers, so we had very little time left to get home, a mere half-hour ride at a snail's pace. We decided to savor our catch, which turned out to be truly delicious.

"It was worth it, wasn't it?" Kinga said, laughing.

"Sure, everyone needs a boost of adrenaline every now and then. At least it forced us to put in some serious effort, otherwise we'd probably be home in about two hours.

" "And we also got some healthy food. No preservatives or anything like that. "

"What if this guy is, like, my neighbor?

" "Stop complicating things. Let's go.

" "And what if... well, nothing happens for good." I preferred not to make any more absurd assumptions, because Kinga would have killed me on the spot.

What a relief it was to sink into a bathtub full of water and forest-scented bath fluid after such a long, hot day. I had to get used to nature, in all its guises.

Packing all my belongings took me three days. The kitchen was the hardest part, because due to my hasty actions, we couldn't even boil water for tea for a day, and we had to eat and drink out, as there weren't even any glasses left in the house. They were probably somewhere among the dishtowels or leftover sugar, pasta, and flour. Considering the sparse number of shops near our new home, I dragged my father shopping and bought everything I could, even things I didn't usually use in the kitchen, like ammonia, raisins (which I hated), dried mushrooms, and the like, not forgetting a ten-year supply of oil, vinegar, flour, and more. In short, my father left the store broke, only to say that I wasn't going to Siberia.

Fortunately, these minor setbacks were overcome, and the next day, all our belongings arrived at their destination. Considering that the previous owners had only taken the furniture with them, leaving us with laminate floors in the bedrooms and tiles in the kitchen, bathroom, and hallway, and painted walls, the movers had a real hard time with me. I immediately told them to rearrange all the furniture, changing their minds several times. The worst was my room, which I had envisioned in the attic. Carrying the furniture up the stairs and then rearranging it dozens of times could have caused even the most balanced person to go into a mild panic. My father didn't interfere, simply assuring me he'd pay for everything.

Unfortunately, that wasn't the end of it, as we still had to eat dinner. Finding groceries wasn't difficult, as they'd been occupying the trunk and backseat of our car since yesterday. As soon as the refrigerator and electric stove were plugged in, I started fighting with the wind, searching for dishes and pots, not to mention an electric kettle. The microwave was found relatively quickly, but the rest left much to be desired, because when I was packing everything into boxes, I hadn't really considered what I was putting into each box. I found the pots and pans, though the frying pan, along with its lids, was missing, resting between the plates. I found the glasses and spoons along with the coffee, flour, tea, and breadcrumbs. Unfortunately, the rest of the cutlery was missing and found among the various medications, which was probably not very wise. On the other hand, it was quite clever, because when I wanted to drink tea, I'd find glasses, and when I wanted to fry something, I'd find plates. However, in the long run, such an order would probably have led to a nervous breakdown. The only sensible thing I did was to write on each box the compartment it contained, so that all the boxes would be placed in the right places.

That day turned out to be way too long for me, and I fell asleep immediately after going to bed. Fortunately, no ghosts came to me that night, and even if they did, I was so sleepy that if someone had woken me, I probably would have kicked them out the door, no matter who it was.

The next day was even worse, but when it ended, everything was in its place, and we could resume living normally. In all the chaos, I lost my cell phone, and as soon as I found it, I called Kinga to tell her that there were no ghosts yet and that she could come over.

My father had the brilliant idea of ​​building a garage because the previous owners hadn't had time to do it, and he immediately hired three men, probably our neighbors, to do it.

"Dagmara, come and meet someone," my father called me.

"Now. What's the matter?" I left the house and froze. "Good morning," I stammered.

"This is Mr. Władysław, our neighbor." "My dad announced cheerfully, but I wasn't in the mood for laughter at all.

"Good morning. I have an orchard, so I brought you some fruit.

" "Thank you, they'll definitely come in handy."

I managed to get the words out, but it was with great difficulty, because it was the same guy who'd chased me and Kinga with a shotgun. Great, if I'm not mistaken, I was talking about living next door to him.

"I think I've seen you before. Wasn't that in my orchard?" Mr. Władysław asked politely, looking at me strangely.

"Where should I put that bike?!" one of the workers yelled. "

Damn it, the guy who's getting in the way of my bike digging the foundations. What a loser! How I hate having to worry about everything.

" "I'll take it right away," I said through my teeth.

"Is that your bike?" Mr. Władysław asked.

"Yes.

" "Now I'm sure it was you I saw in my orchard, on my apple tree." Despite all this recognition, Mr. Władysław didn't seem upset.

First, I'll murder the guy who was clinging to my bike, and then I'll buy myself a new one, because this one has become my trademark. Why did I have to pull something like that off!? That's just bad luck. Besides, I guess you could call it a paranormal phenomenon, or more simply, an extraordinary coincidence.

"I'm sorry, but my friend and I went to see the house, and then we didn't want to go back in the heat, so we stopped at your orchard," I tried to explain.

Fortunately, Mr. Władysław didn't decide to break off neighborly relations because of my antics. He was simply trying to protect his orchard from all the elements that not only pick fruit but also break branches and young trees. I could understand that perfectly well. Fortunately, I wasn't one of the vandals, and Mr. Władysław didn't begrudge me the apples I'd brought with me that day. It turned out he was quite a nice guy; I wonder if he has a son...?

After unpacking all the ridiculously packed things, it was time to start cooking. I'd always enjoyed it, and above all, I was good at it. Today, staying home was more of a pleasure, unless someone wanted to sunbathe. I wasn't in the mood for that right now, so I immersed myself in the art of cooking, occasionally bringing drinks to the workers. The supply of mineral water should last about two days, but I also made a compote from the fruit Mr. Władysław had brought.

Dinner was almost ready when something happened that momentarily put me off eating.

"Mr. Foreman, look here!" one of the workers yelled.

"What's going on? Can't you see I'm setting up formwork?!

" "But there's... a skeleton!"

"What?!

That was all I needed. I ran out into the yard and looked into the foundation pit. There was indeed a skeleton lying there, something glinting between its ribs. I'd already lost my cell phone in the mess once, so now I kept it close at hand and didn't have to look far to call the police. As usual, my father wasn't there when I needed him, having gone to pick up some cement. Once again, I had to fend for myself.

The authorities arrived five minutes later, as it turned out the station was about a hundred meters away. Their deputies looked rather shabby. One of the officers was about fifty, short, broad-shouldered, with dark, curly hair and a roll of fat on the back of his neck. His expression was more sour than mine when I'd heard about the move. He clearly didn't like fieldwork, if you could call it that.

The other one was a young, energetic brunette. He had dark gray eyes and a swarthy complexion. He didn't look particularly experienced in police work.

"Did you call the police?" the older of the two asked.

"Yes."

"I'm Captain Rzepa, and this is Constable Pieczarka. What happened?" He asked questions out of necessity, and seemed happiest when he didn't have to hear the answer.

"There's a skeleton there. I think it's very old, but definitely not a dinosaur, definitely human," I said in a similar tone. "

We'll take care of it. If you'll allow it, ma'am."

They examined the skeleton, dug up as much earth as possible, but didn't move it. Captain Radish, not Turnip, pulled out his phone and contacted someone. He didn't seem happy with such a laborious and time-consuming task. I wonder if anything could have satisfied him. I sincerely doubt it. He's the type of person who gets upset about everything and can't be satisfied with anything. Those are the worst. The other guy didn't even try to say anything. It was obvious he didn't want to displease his boss.

Wow, what a terrible day. There are corpses swarming around my yard, I've been hearing nothing but ghost stories for ages, and on top of that, I'm haunted by police officers who wouldn't be able to detect a thief even if he stole right in front of them.

Some professional help was supposed to arrive in half an hour, and for now, everyone was off work. Fortunately, the workers were familiar with the ghost story; it had probably been passed down through generations, so they didn't refuse to continue working. For now, I've invited everyone to dinner.

The captain didn't care whether he stood in the scorching heat or entered the cool house. It was a great grace on his part to step over the threshold. The younger man tried to maintain some form of courtesy, but in the face of his boss's stony face, he had no chance.

After half an hour, the well-fed captain greeted the medical examiner, who, wearing gloves and a mask, began a thorough examination. A rather large crowd had already gathered outside the gate, and everyone was waiting to see what would come of it. The most common suggestion for the skeleton's owner was a certain Mrs. Justyna, but I had no idea who she was. The medical examiner took the skeleton, and the police took the dagger stuck between the ribs. Everything pointed to some ancient murder.

Eventually, everyone left, the people dispersed, the workers returned to work, and of course, my father returned, who had no idea what had happened. I made him dinner and explained what had happened, and he said the ghost was over.

Despite everything, I decided to expand my knowledge about the supposedly deceased woman and went to Mr. Władysław, hoping he would explain what all this fuss was about.

"Hello, did you find Mr. Władysław here?" I asked, feeling a little uneasy.

"No, what's the matter? I'm his wife.

" "Then maybe you could help me. Today, while digging the foundations for the garage, we found a skeleton. I heard people say it was some Mrs. Justyna. I'd also heard about a ghost and wanted to know if all this had anything to do with it?

" "A child is a long story, even a legend," she began with obvious excitement. "I'd love to tell you, but you see, I've got dumpling dough ready. I can't make them and talk about ghosts at the same time. For that, I need to sit down and relax."

"I'll help you. I know how to make pierogi. It'll go faster together," I suggested.

We finished the job pretty quickly, so much so that we still had to cook and eat the pierogi. Mr. Władysław and three others arrived. I learned they were Mr. Władysław and Mrs. Halina's children, a son and a daughter with her husband. It wasn't appropriate for me to go home now, and besides, I'd helped with the cooking myself, so I stayed for dinner and then went out to the porch with Mrs. Halina.

"Wonderful pierogi. Is the filling some kind of secret?" he asked, delighted with the product.

"I won't tell you everything, but it depends on what you want first, the filling or the ghosts?" Well, yes, a difficult choice.

"Filling first, because then I might lose my appetite."

Mrs. Halina went somewhere and then brought back a piece of paper with the recipe for the filling. Now all I had to do was listen.

It turned out that the whole story took place a hundred, maybe two hundred years ago. No one knew exactly when or what, but the legend persists, and so does the ghost. A manor house once stood here, and it was only recently demolished. Besides, it was a terrible ruin; it was unoccupied, and only vandals had any use for it. But the fact is, the ghost of Mrs. Justyna was often seen in the windows. She was very wealthy and married while still very young. She was probably the same age as you are now. Her husband wasn't a magnate, just an ordinary nobleman, twice her age, but somehow he served her father, and they married her off. It wasn't a happy marriage, because Mrs. Justyna was in love with her brother. He even lived here for a while, but Mrs. Justyna supposedly left, so he left too. The rest is just conjecture. Apparently, her husband was in terrible debt, and only her share of the estate would have saved him, so he killed her and told everyone she'd left. He also murdered her brother so there would be no other claimants to the inheritance, and just as with his wife, he told anyone who asked that the young master had left. Now Mrs. Justyna's ghost wanders this earthly realm, seeking justice.

"Is it all just a legend?" I asked, interested.

"We don't know. In any case, the ghost exists, and this story has been passed down from generation to generation, and surely everyone changed something, added something of their own to it; after all, even those who were alive at the time might not have known the whole truth. After all, the bodies were never found.

" "I wonder. Perhaps the ghost will explain it to us someday. I won't take up any more of your time. Goodnight." I said goodbye and went home, determined to think it over.

"Thank you for your help. Goodnight."

It all just blew my mind; I'd never believed in ghosts, and then suddenly something like this happened. I'd only been living here a week, and they'd already dug up a skeleton in front of my window. I don't think I'll be able to sleep. Truth be told, I'm even starting to get a little scared. A human skeleton in the garden isn't the same as ghost stories.

In the evenings, my father usually cultivated positive relationships with the neighbors, and I stayed home alone because I didn't feel like it. One such evening I'll never forget. I was sitting in my room reading a book; it was well after midnight when I suddenly felt terribly cold. The windows were open, but it was twenty-something degrees out in the field; it was impossible for Zebu to cool down so suddenly. I had a bad feeling, turned to see if anyone was in the room, and then I saw her. A bright glow emanated from her, and a tremendous chill emanated from her. She was wearing a white dress that trailed behind her on the ground. I started screaming, which wasn't exactly a logical solution, but let someone try to think logically in such a situation.

"Shut up, you stupid girl!"

It wasn't a scream, or even just speech; she simply hissed the words with immense anger and covered my mouth with her icy, snow-white hand. It was too much, and I didn't perform any heroic act at that moment; I simply fainted.

The next day, I woke up in an armchair with a book on my lap. At first, I couldn't figure out why I wasn't in bed, but after a moment, I shivered at the memory of yesterday's event. I decided to solve the mystery of this ghost at all costs, and the first step was a visit to the local police station.

It was a small building, with a grocery store on the other side. I thought such a small room should at least be well-kept, but I was wrong. There were three desks and cells visible, which seemed to mostly be occupied by drunken bums. In short, it wasn't very pleasant.

"Good morning," I greeted the captain, and he returned the greeting with an ironic smile. "A few days ago, you took a skeleton from my garden. I'd like to know something about it. For example, what the results of the captain's investigation are.

" "You must be mocking us. This skeleton is one hundred and fifty years old, and we have thousands of more important things to worry about than searching for an ancient murderer.

I had no doubt that doing nothing was the most important thing, but I preferred not to say that. I won't risk offending the local authorities. There's no telling when this will backfire on me.

" "Nevertheless, I insist on an explanation. Captain, I think I have the right to know whose corpse beautified my garden." I remained adamant about the information.

"Officer, familiarize this lady with the skeleton's files."

He directed me towards Mr. Pieczarka's desk, whom I'd already met. I have a feeling the police won't love me.

"Constable Pie..." I was about to launch into some rather unpleasant lecture, but he interrupted me.

"Please, not the mushroom. My name is Konrad." His look and tone of voice made me give up on venting my moods on him.

"Dagmara. Maybe you'll be a little nicer than Captain Kohlrabi.

" "Rzepy," he corrected me, smiling to himself.

"What difference does it make, you have a whole grocery store here?

" "No, it's just a coincidence.

" "Every customer calls you by your first name?" I asked bluntly. All I needed was a constable hitting on me.

"No, but we've already met and everything..." He seemed a little embarrassed. "What did you want to know?

" "Something about my skeleton.

" "Yours?

" "You know what I mean."

"First, I just want you to know that this crime was committed one hundred and fifty years ago, and the eventual murderer is in a similar state of decomposition to his victim. As for the victim, she was a woman, about twenty or twenty-five years old, and she died from a stab wound, probably through the heart, but from behind. So much for the expert and reliable information. Do you want to know anything else?

" "If I can tell you anything," I replied sweetly.

"Meaning?

" "No one knows who it was. Could it be the skeleton of that ghost?

" "No one knows that either. Do you know the legend?

" "Yes, but it doesn't explain anything."

"I think you want to investigate," he said revealingly.

"Just please don't think I'm crazy, but I saw that ghost and I want to get rid of it. Solving this mystery might be the only way.

" "Well, I think you'll need help." "He's really into me... Come on, is there really a shortage of women here?

" "Are you interested?"

"It's always more interesting than rounding up drunks outside a store. In other words, it's a way to spice up your work.

" "So we're partners. First, I'd like to learn everything I can about everyone who might have been involved in all this, namely Mrs. Justyna.

" "I don't like impossible things.

" "I know you'll handle it, I believe in you. I'm inviting you over, let's say on Sunday, we'll have a barbecue." "What harm could it do to get to know him better?"

"Okay, I'll try." "I have no doubt he'll dig up this information, even from the ground.

" "Then we have a deal."

I didn't think gathering information could be so easy, and besides, this Konrad guy isn't so bad after all. Maybe it would be worth taking a little interest in him… He's probably not much older than me, maybe twenty-three at most. Unfortunately, I have to get down to earth and do some shopping. It's good that the police station and the store are so close together. In some circumstances, it's even convenient. It's lucky it's in these circumstances and not others. Now all that's left is to wait until Sunday and hope that at least part of the mystery will be solved. However, I suspect that the required conclusion will be burying Mrs. Justyna's body, and as far as I'm concerned, that's impossible. I'm not going to play dynamite!

"Where have you been?" Yes, Daddy's stomach reminded him he has a daughter.

"What, are you hungry already?

" "No, but I don't want you to get lost.

" "That's not funny! I was there to learn about that skeleton.

" "Will I get dinner?" He always ignored the words about spirits and belonging.

"Yes, I'll make pierogi from Mrs. Halina's recipe, but you'll have to wait a while for them. Anyway, I thought you knew how to cook." "I really don't have any mercy, besides, I've seen that ghost before, and no one can convince me it doesn't exist.

" "I'm exhausted. I'd like to be alone in my own house for a while, but I can't, because it's either the garage workers or the new neighbors who are always there. In the city, I had to answer every call at work because I was available and close by, and now I'm on vacation and I don't have a moment's peace either." "Poor thing..."

"Unfortunately, I can't comfort you, because on Sunday I invited Constable Pieczarka to a barbecue. I hope you two can find common ground.

" "Are you hitting on policemen now?

" "Dad! Firstly, he's our neighbor, and secondly, it's a business meeting." I didn't add that thirdly, he's hitting on me.

"Well, well, well. I'm getting more and more curious what this is all about."

"About the ghost! Is that enough?"

"Don't tell me you believe this nonsense." "No, I can't stand him.

" "No, Daddy, I don't believe it, I saw it with my own eyes and felt it firsthand.

" "Well..."

Just as I thought, he was speechless. Now he'll wait calmly for dinner and won't say a word. Unfortunately, at this point, I don't have a shred of mercy in me. So I decided that if he wanted to get his dinner faster in the future, he should hire a housekeeper. After all, I'd be going to school and wouldn't always be home. The commute alone would take me a while; it's thirty kilometers.

It would be nice; every morning I'd have to take the bus, or, out of pity, walk with my father for about half an hour, just to get to school, which I used to walk ten minutes to. Horrible!

Daddy, of course, had the brilliant idea of ​​me going to school in a closer town, but I effectively talked him out of it. He changed my address, but he wouldn't change my school.

In the end, he agreed to anything just to get dinner.

"And the housekeeper?" he asked, adamant.

"I'll ask Władek, maybe he knows someone suitable. Will you let me starve?

" "Not now. I've arranged everything I wanted," I said with a smile.

"Sadist," he groaned.

"I must have inherited it from someone. I wonder who?

" "Don't look at me. I'm eating.

A hungry man will do anything, but right now I need Konrad, and to make sure there are no misunderstandings, I've prepared a whole buffet. Grilled sausages are just a modest addition. I have to congratulate the previous owners on the idea of ​​a terrace. It's simply made for such events, because unfortunately, it didn't end with Konrad; my father decided to seize the opportunity and invited a few neighbors. I didn't even have time to talk about the topic I was interested in, and I was simply convulsing with anger. I had to find some ridiculous excuse to just leave us alone. Without any subtext, of course.

"Konrad, grab some empty glasses, maybe someone's coffee or tea? I'll cut some bread too. Come on.

" "Being a kitchen porter wasn't part of the contract, was it?" His tone didn't suggest he minded.

"Don't grumble, there's beer in that cupboard. Here's a tray, grab some bread and coffee. Take it to them, they won't even notice we're gone for an hour. Just come back.

" "If I don't fall into a black hole on the way," he said over his shoulder, laughing. "Okay, I'm going."

I threw a dishtowel at him, but it missed and landed somewhere in the room. The last thing I wanted to do was look for it. Father will take care of it tomorrow.

Luckily, Konrad wasn't swallowed by the black hole, and he returned in less than five minutes.

It turned out that Gustaw Lędźwiński, at the age of thirty-four, as a nobleman of modest means, married seventeen-year-old Justyna Długowojska from a prominent aristocratic family. It wasn't a dream marriage, and besides, one could nitpick about the money, but Mr. Gustaw had somehow served Justyna's father, who promised him her in marriage. Filip Długowojski, however, was not Justyna's brother, as they had different mothers, so incest was not a threat. Contrary to appearances, Gustaw loved his wife more than anything else and for a time even ignored their affair, but apparently something changed and he killed them.

But who was the skeleton's owner in all this? Besides, if Gustaw murdered Justyna, why is her spirit wandering here now? Suicides and murderers usually don't find eternal peace, not their victims... Unless... I don't know, maybe she's seeking justice or something.

Konrad assured me that his information was completely reliable, but he wouldn't reveal where or how he obtained it.

The entire time he spoke to me, I saw a strange twinkle in his eyes, even though he was businesslike and professional the entire time. I don't know what to think of him anymore. I won't deny that he's handsome and generally likeable, but I just don't know what to make of all this.

We finally decided to head back so no one would get any ideas. I didn't want everyone telling tall tales about a scandalous affair tomorrow.

The whole group didn't disperse until well after midnight. Konrad left a bit early, and I could have, too, but I had to act as housewife, especially in front of the female guests.

My father would kill me eventually. I don't want any more bonding meetings with the neighbors; at most, he can go out with guests. What's gotten into him so sociable? Since when? It used to be all work and work, and now?

Unfortunately, I didn't get a chance to sleep, because right after I lay down, I felt a familiar chill, and that same pale hand covered my mouth.

"You're not going to scream?" the ghost asked in that same blood-curdling voice.

No, I'm not going to faint or scream this time, so I shook my head. I can't handle the ghost on my own. Unfortunately, I'm not in the habit of taking advantage of and toying with people, so I have to give Konrad some peace. I like him, and I appreciate that he's probably digging up all this information from underground, but I can't blame him for everything. He doesn't know me at all. Maybe I'm a nasty viper? He doesn't know that, so maybe he shouldn't sacrifice himself so much…

In a situation like this, you need to have a heart-to-heart with the ghost. He's clearly communicative, so maybe he'll let something important out, even if only by accident. I need to learn some interesting information, and this is a golden opportunity. I can't waste it.

"What do you want?" I began, a little indignant.

"How dare you address me like that?! Where is the respect I deserve?!

"Don't you realize that one hundred and fifty years have passed since your death?" I said, a little nervously, and settled comfortably on the bed.

"I'm a ghost; time doesn't exist for me."

"Then we have a long history lesson ahead of us. There are no more nobles, magnates, and the like now..."

This wasn't how it was supposed to go. Raising awareness of medieval ghosts isn't my dream job. Unfortunately, my duties demand sacrifice. I decided that a summary of the events of the last one hundred and fifty years and a brief discussion of the socio-economic changes should be enough for now. It's going to be a very long night.

I live partly against my will in the countryside, ghosts wander around my house, and I have to educate them. I definitely prefer Konrad's company. Whether he's attracted to me or not, it doesn't matter, but at least he's flesh and blood.

I like history and have always been interested in courtly life, but I've never had the gift of teaching. Besides, I'd rather be solving a hypothetical mystery that must be here somewhere. My father never understood why I spent so much time reading books about various mysterious events. To him, it was a waste of time. Anything unscientific was worthless. Even the scientific methods used by detectives didn't appeal to him. He always thought the police were idiots, and a Hercule Poirot who could catch any criminal was synonymous with science fiction.

Now I finally have the opportunity to solve the mystery myself. It's not blood-curdling, because any blood connected to it has long since congealed and turned to dust, but it's certainly worth spending some time unraveling. I learned

from the Honourable Justyna that no one has yet tried to find out why she haunts the place. Nor can she reveal any crucial information that would help me understand it all. She simply hoped that if I took up the case, I would see it through to the end.

Thanks to Konrad, I already knew who was who, but nothing more. I had no idea how to determine the location of each person in this situation that occurred two hundred years ago.

"I had a diary too," she said finally, after much consideration. "One of my servants buried it in the garden. Find it, and you'll learn the rest of the truth.

" "How?" The garden is enormous, and it was certainly even larger when you were alive! I can't dig through all that! My father will think I'm crazy!

"I can't help you there, but if you grant my soul eternal rest, you will be handsomely rewarded.

Yes, I'll be rewarded with a pile of old papers that fall apart when I pick them up, and eventually some rotten wood. A tempting proposition. I was feeling internally motivated, so to speak, so I didn't bother to consider what the spirit could do to make me happy. I decided to sleep on the problem; every four in the morning was the most advisable thing to do.

"One more thing: the diary holds the key to the underground," she added as she left.

"You're really generous with these tips," I said ironically.

After that tiring night, I didn't wake up until midday. My father had kept his promise about the housekeeper, so I didn't have much to do. I made myself some sandwiches and coffee and went to my room to come up with a plan. I only figured I'd have to ask for help again, or at least Konrad's advice. Therefore, I had to go to the police station. I also decided to do some shopping.

The prospect of seeing the captain didn't excite me, but on the other hand, I didn't want to call Konrad and invite him over. It was best to handle this professionally.

"Good morning, Captain Kohlrabi. How's the investigation into the skeleton coming along?" I said casually, a broad smile on my face.

"Rzepa!" he said through his teeth, emphasizing each letter. I guess he didn't like me.

"Constable, she's your client! Get her out of here and out of my earshot."

"You don't want to look at me, Mr. Captain, either?" I asked, playing the sweet idiot.

"Mushroom!" the captain yelled, clearly at the end of his tether.

"Already, Mr. Captain. What are you doing here? Did you find another skeleton, or do you need help in the kitchen?" he sneered, a smile on his face. His mood had clearly improved after seeing how I'd handled Mr. Kohlrabi.

"Stop it. I have another case. How can I find something like a book without digging up the entire garden?

" "You can count on luck and only dig up half the garden." He was in an exceptionally good mood today. By the way, he had a nice smile.

"I'm serious. I have to find Mrs. Justyna's diary. It's buried somewhere in the garden.

" "Then you'll have to dig up a few more neighboring gardens.

" "Stop it, you're no helper. I see I have to manage on my own." "The shock treatment should help."

"Easy, I was joking, but you have to consider that this book could have decomposed long ago, but let's ignore that. Find out if this diary had, for example, a metal binding. Okay? Because if so, I have an idea." He finally started talking to the point.

"And if not?" Not that I doubted him...

"Then we'll dig together. Wait, I want something in return. I have a recipe for hare stew that's over two hundred years old. If we find it, I want it for dinner as a reward.

" "You keep surprising me, but I agree, on one condition: you bring me a hare along with the recipe.

" This was starting to amuse me. "Okay. It's a deal. I'll call you around ten, I hope you'll know what you need by then."

The priority now was to talk to Justyna. After all, I wasn't about to sacrifice that much, and besides, I didn't want to waste the lawn. I probably would have to dig up a few nice trees, which probably wouldn't benefit their health.

In any case, both the conversation with Justyna and Konrad's idea had to have a positive outcome. Otherwise, my father would have been so worried about me that he would have called the men in the caftans, who certainly wouldn't believe in the existence of ghosts and the like. A conversation with Captain Kohlrabi would only have convinced them that all was not well with me.

Of course, not everything is as simple as it might seem. Underground vaults don't open themselves, books don't dig themselves up, ghosts don't appear when they please, and rabbit stew doesn't cook itself. What a life...

I never thought life in the countryside could be so entertaining. That ghost and Konrad are a truly explosive combination. Both can spice up your existence quite a bit. It's a shame Kinga's gone for two weeks; I have so much to tell her. She simply won't believe it all, and I don't believe it myself.

Of course, I had to wait until late evening for Justyna. Do ghosts only appear after sunset?

Of course, Justyna, as a noblewoman, had no idea how to make hare stew. That's what happens when you live with servants who clean and cook... What good is it to me that it was tasty? I'm not a cook. If it weren't for all that, I wouldn't have to deal with the hare. Surely, you can't cook it in a fur coat!?

Fortunately, I did get one useful piece of information, and I hope it will please Konrad. The diary had a rather impressive binding, even gilded and encrusted with precious stones.

Now all that's left is to wait for Konrad's call. I hope his idea works out, because if not, I think I'll give up.

He finally called, and right on time, to the minute. I gave him the good news, and he promised he'd come tomorrow with the equipment and we'd start searching. I was thrilled, but my joy quickly faded as I thought of the hare. It's a good thing I didn't tell my father about the dinner, or he'd have thrown another little party. He's become incredibly sociable now. When I used to throw parties at home or party until dawn, that suited me, but when he starts doing the same, it's starting to get on my nerves. Besides Konrad, I have no one to talk to, and frankly, I'm not happy about it. Of course, I have nothing against him, but sometimes my own father could use a chat, especially since we've always understood each other perfectly. Oh well, tomorrow's a tough day ahead of me, and I need to get some sleep.

"Daga! Wake up!" someone yelled outside my window at an impossibly early hour.

"Konrad! What are you doing here at seven in the morning?"

"Hi! I brought you a hare!"

"Okay, stop yelling and come inside.

This guy just floored me. He's yelling at me at dawn, holding a rabbit in one hand and something strange in the other, but never mind identifying him. He's amazing, it would be hard to find another one like him. He helps me with my idiotic plans with a smile, he doesn't nag, he doesn't think I'm some half-witted idiot, and he's probably having a good time too. I won't deny that Tom isn't fun for me, but he really surprises me, and either there's something wrong with him or he's just as crazy as I am. All logical reasons point to the latter.

I have to admit, the wake-up call was very original. I didn't even have time to get dressed properly, so I just threw on the first clothes I found and went to open the door for him. Upon greeting him, I decided I'd hire him as an alarm clock.

He really got into this rabbit, and to please me, he even stripped off its fur and guts. And that's another thing?" Hmm… Up close, it resembled a pre-war vacuum cleaner, if they had vacuum cleaners back then. In reality, it was a metal detector, or so Konrad claimed.

Of course, the esteemed officer first herded me into the kitchen and ordered me to season the hare. If only I had any idea about such dishes! I'll get my revenge, really. He didn't seem to believe my threats, but the look on my face spoke for itself. I wonder what the neighbors thought when that lunatic started shouting outside my window at seven in the morning. They probably haven't had such entertainment here in a long time, and as for the hare, it might even be tasty...

Finally, however, we started work, and it was, let's put it another way, fruitful.

"Have you found anything yet?" he asked, interested in the buzzing of the machine.

"Patience, maybe you should get a shovel right away; we'll have to do some digging around here after all.

" "It's already done, boss," I said, unaware of what was going to happen next.

"I've been doing all the physical work and paperwork all this time, but now the tables are turning. There's something! Dig here," he commanded.

"Me?!" I exclaimed

, almost indignant. "I told you the tables were turning. Don't nag." He can be so sweet.

"Revenge will be sweet," I said through my teeth.

Well, I don't know if the various cutlery, scissors, and weapons from the First World War met our requirements, but so far, we hadn't found anything else, and inevitably, noon began to approach. The pile of various metal junk was growing, but the necessary items were still missing, even though we'd searched almost the entire garden. The sun was starting to warm up when the thing beeped again. Resignedly, I cut a patch of grass and began digging, expecting another spoonful, but the shovel stopped on something much larger. I pushed the dirt aside with my hands and tried to pull it out, but unfortunately, I couldn't. The find was simply too heavy for me. Only Konrad managed to handle it, and we were met with a tightly wrapped package. Whoever had buried it here knew how to do it. After removing all the protective layers, we saw a huge book with a brass binding set with emeralds. Only now did I remember that Justyna had the same eye color. That had to be what we were looking for.

"Satisfied?" Because, truth be told, I was losing my patience and thought it was just some fantasy. Besides, your father kept looking at us like we were a couple of lunatics.

"My father!" I remembered him just in time. "He can't see this. Take it to my room, just don't make fun of it.

" "Easy. Your father gave up watching us even before that arsenal and went somewhere. I think the sun got a little too hot for you," he said solicitously, smiling strangely. "Let's go home."

"You deserved that rabbit, but take it to my room; then I won't have to lug it around myself. Will you help me in the kitchen?

" "I'll think about it on the way."

Konrad's wondering had paid off, and she could at least partially repay him for that digging. However, I must admit that a few centuries ago, they ate better food than we do now. This stew was truly delicious, a true feast for the palate.

Father arrived just in time to catch dinner and said Konrad had to come over more often, because thanks to him he had a restaurant at home. I pretended I hadn't understood the allusion and just wanted to get rid of it as quickly as possible, because I had some very enjoyable reading waiting for me upstairs. Unfortunately, Father wouldn't let up.

"May I ask why you were digging up the garden?" he asked with a strange expression.

"No." The answer was short and concise.

"But I want to know what that pile of scrap metal in my driveway is doing.

" "It's lying there.

" "Can you answer in more elaborate sentences?

" "No."

"I can't stand it. Could you tell me something about it?

" "Well, I...

" "No."

"You want to hold up a bank or rob the local store, because I think you have enough weapons for both." Daddy didn't know whether to be nervous or laugh.

"Don't give us any brilliant ideas," I said, a sweet smile plastered on my face.

"Look, ladies and gentlemen, my daughter is starting to speak in full sentences.

" "Very funny."

Of course, Konrad had to give some learned speech about the found weapon, which probably belonged to a German unit and was buried to prevent it from falling into enemy hands. World War I had already been established as the time of the event.

"But that doesn't explain why you were digging up my lawn," Daddy was adamant.

"We were playing treasure hunters because the police got a new device and Mr. Pieczarka decided to test it. Satisfied?" I emphasized Konrad's name as much as possible.

"Partly.

" "Good, because Mr. Pieczarka has to go home now."

"I don't...

If my gaze could turn people to stone, Konrad would already be one. I won't deny that I enjoy being with him, but not today. My father also summoned

me for a conversation at an inopportune moment. Why the hell did I feel like using Konrad's surname, and in that way, with that tone... I knew he didn't like it, so I never did, I always called him by his first name. True, I wanted to be alone and get rid of both him and my father, but it didn't work out quite right.

Once we were alone, it was easy to see that he was quite angry with me. Sure, he had a great sense of humor, which he'd shown more than once, but this time I'd overdone it, and even a rabbit couldn't neutralize my irony.

Eventually, it got to the point where being alone with myself was getting to be a bit of a chore, because as I was leaving, Konrad blurted out that he was going away for two weeks for training and that he wouldn't bother me anymore.

He wouldn't listen to me; he simply left without even turning around or saying goodbye. I felt truly sad because it was my fault. I didn't want our relationship to end here, now, like this. Only now did I realize I cared about him. Not for his information, his help, but for him personally. I'm an idiot, just an idiot. I have to apologize to him...

The only positive aspect of his absence—plenty of time to read at least the part of his diary that interests me—hasn't resonated with me yet. My father immediately sensed the gloomy atmosphere and understood that something was wrong, so he didn't even try to talk to me. Kudos to him for not wanting to know what happened to his lawn.

I knew I had to start reading the diary immediately, but I couldn't bring myself to do it. For two days, I walked around like a fiend, doing nothing but feeling sorry for myself. One evening, Daddy brought me a huge hazelnut ice cream drizzled with chocolate liqueur and told me that if that didn't help, there was something seriously wrong with me. Fortunately, it helped enough that I could start doing something.

Except I didn't really know where to start. The book was almost three-quarters full, and I didn't have time to read the whole thing yet. I had to isolate the relevant section, and I decided to simply start a few pages from the end. The old Polish language and the handwriting, which was already somewhat faded, made the task a bit difficult, but as we all know, such work requires sacrifice. The description of a passionate night with Filip only confirmed my suspicions that Gustaw had truly been watching this affair. Did that mean he loved her that much?

To protect at least this part from fading completely, I decided to copy it by hand, in modern language.

October 22, 1847.

I had another argument with Gustaw. He demanded that I tell Filip to leave immediately. What he was thinking? I couldn't possibly expel my own brother from here, it was beyond comprehension. He even asked me how I could receive Holy Communion and rub a priest's eyes. He even doubted I'd even gone to confession and received absolution, and he dared to say it was all out of true love. He probably never was in love. It was Filip who truly felt for me, and it was him I truly loved. Admittedly, the maids had told me more than once that they'd found him with someone in the barn or in the forest. Take Emilia Osnowiecka, for example—what does she represent? Filip is still young and needs to let loose, but I know he truly loves me, and the others are just satisfying momentary whims.

October 27th.

I knew there were underground passages here, because every self-respecting manor has cellars or dungeons, but it's beyond belief that a noblewoman's daughter would be locked away there! There are standard pantries and wine rooms, but as it turns out, there are also dungeons. The entrance to them is a hatch in the floor, opened by a special lever hidden under one of the boards. I didn't know that this supposedly true love of his could commit such atrocities.

I have a comfortable bed here, my dresses, jewels, and two maids, but I miss Filip. Unfortunately, I can't get out of here because two guards are guarding the entrance. For now, all I can do is not arouse any suspicions; the rest will take care of itself.

October 30th

My esteemed husband even demands access to my bed, but what's the point? No. I won't talk to the man who's imprisoning me in the dungeons. If only my father knew about it. He'd surely help me, and shoot that scoundrel.

How fortunate I am that I haven't borne Gustaw a child yet. At least I can be happy about that. He comes here every day and brings me food, telling me that Filip will soon leave, because I've supposedly left too, and I'll be able to live a normal life. He assures me he's doing it all out of love, because he wants to protect me from the sins of adultery and incest. When he married me four years ago, he must have considered that. It's too late for anything now anyway. I've sinned, and may God forgive me on Judgment Day.

November 4th.

I sent one of my trusted servants to inform Filip that I haven't gone anywhere. That's my only hope.

November 7th.

Filip already knows everything, but he promised not to reveal himself to my husband. He'll leave, then return unnoticed and free me from the clutches of this monster. I pray every day that he succeeds.

I constantly wonder why it's believed that a woman shouldn't strain her head with thought. We're no more stupid creatures than our men, and we deserve the same status as them. It's just a shame that for many centuries to come, a woman will likely be just a backdrop for her husband, and the more beautiful, the more valuable. And if she becomes truly valuable, she should be locked away in a dungeon, lest someone else take an interest in her.

November 12th.

A terrible misfortune! God have mercy on the soul of my husband. My husband—a murderer! Filip is dead! One of my servants reported this to me. It's a terrible crime! He doesn't even realize the suffering he's condemned me to. I'll never be able to look at him again. I loathe him. I'll never forgive him for this as long as I live. I'm lonely! I'm unhappy!

November 13th.

I ordered one of my servants to bury my notes in the garden, so that no one, especially my husband, could read them. When I'm safe, I'll condemn myself to eternal damnation, because life without Filip is worthless to me, and I couldn't share a bed with that tyrant. The rope is already waiting. Just a little courage and it will all be over. Time to say goodbye to this cruel world and let our souls join on the journey to eternity. Time to tie the noose...

What a terrible end... I wonder if her husband has realized his mistake. Love is stronger than the need to live, but sometimes good solutions fail...

"...right?" I finished my thought aloud, noticing Justyna's presence.

"Yes. My soul was condemned to eternal wandering, but there is salvation for me. You are it. A pure virgin, without a stain on her soul and with love in her heart. I loved the same way, but I wasn't allowed to live in that love.

How does she know what's going on in my heart if even I don't know it well? I care about him; after we parted and throughout the time he was gone, I realized he was important to me, but…

It took me almost two weeks to transcribe such a short fragment. What if I wanted to do the same with the rest? I feel a bit bad about it, because there are wonderful stories of feasts and balls, descriptions of costumes and jewels. It would be a shame to waste it all, and it's truly a treasure trove of knowledge about that period.

I was so absorbed in this reading that I didn't even notice how quickly the time flew by. The weather had completely deteriorated; it was fifteen degrees Celsius, blowing, and drizzling. Something awful." Staying at home is pure pleasure in this case, but I'm already tempted to explore the basement, but firstly, there's no sign of any boards in this house, and secondly, I'll wait for Konrad. It's our shared business, after all. I'm glad he's coming back tomorrow. It felt so empty here without him.

Never before, no one has serenaded me through the window. How sweet. I think I'm really going to fall in love. I ran outside the house, and he was standing there with a guitar in one hand and a huge bouquet of roses in the other.

"You crazy," he said, almost with tears in his eyes as he embraced me.

"Don't you like it?

" "I really like it." "I won't be mean to him anymore, I promise.

I wonder what I can expect from him later... It's probably better not to even think about it, but at twenty-three, he should have balanced ideas. I think...

" "Flowers are beautiful." I wanted to apologize for…

He didn't let me finish, just gave me a big hug, and once our mutual joy had subsided, we turned to business. I gave him a copy of my diary to read and warned him I was looking for a new manual job. I'd already found out from the previous owner where that unfortunate entrance was, so there was no need to demolish the entire house; all I had to do was scrape the floor in the pantry.

Of course, Konrad immediately started teasing me about dinner. Fortunately, he didn't have any age-old recipes for wild boar or deer up his sleeve.

I had hoped that my father, as an engineer, would be able to help us, but I was very wrong. All he managed was to give us a crowbar and tell us we could dig, as long as someone cleaned everything up and, ideally, poured a new floor. It wasn't a particularly pleasant prospect, but we both realized that if those boards existed, they were probably a few inches underground, and the floor was probably just covering them now. Our

foolish belief in the validity of our beliefs gave us wings, but after about two hours, it blatantly took them away. It was Sisyphean work, and it only took us three days. Konrad, with increasing conviction, declared that he deserved something special in return; no duck or hare would suffice.

Eventually, however, we managed to reach the wooden floor. Incidentally, I don't understand why, when they were building this house, they simply poured concrete over it all. Some kind of thrifty, or perhaps even a long-term solution.

Then it was time to tear off the boards, and finally, before our eyes, we saw the lever everyone had been searching for for centuries.

"Do you think it'll work?" he asked doubtfully.

"I don't know. Try pulling.

" "Shouldn't you?

" "No," I said firmly.

"Okay. Open sesame.

" "It worked!" I couldn't believe it myself; it was impossible.

"Go in first. Here's a flashlight."

And so we entered. The stairs ended, and various rooms appeared before our eyes. Most were inhabited by rats, but in one, a strange sight met our eyes.

"Here, here. Wines from 1840, and here even older. You must be very rich," he said, seemingly not fully believing what he was seeing.

"You think so?

" "I know. Imagine the taste. Served with some delicious dinner..." He was getting a bit carried away.

And finally, a truly royal chamber appeared before our eyes. A four-poster bed, gold leaf on the walls, magnificent carpets on the floor, and only one flaw. In the center hung a skeleton, probably Justine's, and at its feet another. Probably Philip's. In the wardrobes were magnificent scabbards, and in the chest of drawers were jewels that the British Queen herself would be proud of. Well, nothing to rave about, because you're not mine anyway. Some museum would probably be very happy.

"Come here," Konrad called me over. "I can't believe my eyes. Read, you're already proficient." He handed me a piece of paper.

"I, Justyna Lędźwińska, née Długowojska. Daughter of Boniface and Klementyna. I bequeath all my fortune, including the family jewels, to the person who will solve the mystery of my death and provide me with a Christian burial..."

How is that possible?!

"This will was just made, but no one will question its credibility. Everyone will recognize it as an authentic document from one hundred and fifty years ago," Justyna said, smiling.

It turned out it even bore the signature of some Konrad's successor. I couldn't believe it all; it wasn't real, it was just a dream. We decided to call Kohlrabi, but first we had to get out of those basements, because no phone had reception there.

Well, you'd think it was over, but unfortunately, not so quickly. No one could take this inheritance away from me, and I only agreed to make it available to a museum for a relatively short time. I only kept the large four-poster bed; sleeping on something like that is pure pleasure; I've always dreamed of it. Besides, I'm practically living in a chamber now, because my room was doubled in size by tearing down the wall separating it from the one next door.

Not to mention the furniture benefits—I've become a famous ghost slayer throughout Poland. My father secured the necessary publicity, and all the newspapers wrote about the story of the magnate's daughter, Justyna Lędźwińska, and, of course, about her discoverer. Even at Sunday Mass, the priest spoke about how I had ensured a Christian burial and fulfilled the deceased's wishes.

Everything would have been great, except that Justyna hadn't disappeared, but had been wandering around the house at night, saying nothing. There must be a catch to all this, because the mystery was essentially solved, the funeral took place, and she was still here.

"Konrad, there's some hidden agenda to all this," I said one evening.

"Should we dig even deeper?" he began jokingly, but seeing my pensive face, his tone changed.

"Imagine being her husband, killing her lover, then finding out she committed suicide, so you place the body of your beloved at her feet and run away, leaving behind all her possessions? Besides, we also have the body of some maid."

Something definitely didn't add up. Konrad strained his brain and remembered that Filip had played some low-class roles in the Tatras, but they kicked him out, so he began seeking happiness with his sister. Only then did it dawn on me. How could we have been so blind? It all makes sense now. Filip pretended to leave, but Gustaw stood in his way of freeing Justyna, so he returned and murdered him. To avoid arousing suspicion, he disguised himself as Gustaw. For now, he was safe. Filip was probably trying to gather his thoughts; he thought he still had time before telling Justyna everything, because in truth, he was probably a little afraid of her reaction. However, he was wrong again, because Justyna committed suicide in the meantime. He was probably a coward, because he took Gustaw's body, carried it to Justyna's room, locked the dungeons, and decided to escape. He wasn't stupid, though; he realized that someone must have witnessed the crime, otherwise how would Justyna have known about it? It was the servant whose corpse so irritated Kohlrabi. He couldn't leave any traces behind, so he murdered her. There were no more witnesses to his crime. He probably resumed playing some subordinate role, and his descendants were born in the villages.

"That's exactly what this horrific crime looked like. I was guilty of two murders, and I disgraced myself by committing suicide," said Justyna, appearing so suddenly that we both jumped at the sound of her voice.

"But it was Filip who killed those people.

" "He did it for me, and I paid for those crimes. Until now, the world will know the truth, and I will sleep forever. I regret what happened, because it was Gustaw who truly loved me. For Filip, it was just another role. I understood this a hundred and fifty years too late. Perhaps he will forgive me...

" "Certainly." Konrad, don't you know anyone in the area with the last name Osnowiecki? I'm sure Mrs. Emilia gave birth to his son and gave him her own surname.

Konrad promised to check it out and said goodbye. Will I finally find out what secret sources are so rich in historical knowledge!?

Justyna finally disappeared for good, and her beautiful white dress fell onto the bed. It was probably not a typical dress of the time. The sleeves were very wide at the hem, falling freely to the floor, and there were no elastic bands or cuffs. It was beautiful in its simplicity. From the first moment I saw it, I wanted it.

When I stood in front of the mirror to see what I looked like in it, it didn't reflect me, only Justyna.

"You'll be a beautiful bride," she whispered.

The next day, Konrad came to dinner with his revelations. It turned out he was Konstancja Osnowiecka's great-grandson. But I didn't want to tell him about its origins; he didn't like me anyway. It'll be safer if I keep my mouth shut. Although it would be nice to see the look on his face...

Once the culinary and family formalities were completed, I took Konrad for a walk and decided to find out where he got such archaic information.

"Will you finally tell me where you know all this?

" "Every woman in my family writes, or has kept a diary or journal," he began reluctantly and with great difficulty. "They also never throw anything away, so my entire attic is stuffed to the brim with it. I even tried reading it once, but I gave up after a few sentences. There are also the papers of my great-uncle, who was something like a notary in Mrs. Justyna's time. You can really learn a lot from all this. Three-quarters of it is probably gossip, but you have to remember that every gossip has a grain of truth in it.

" "And you've been hiding it all this time?" I asked, surprised. Such a treasure trove is something to be proud of.

"No. I live with my great-grandmother, who is ninety-seven years old, my grandmother, and my mother." I didn't want you to think I was the wrong guy, that, you know...

"That you're a scoundrel, an idiot, a failure, and a mama's boy?

" "Let's just say so," he stammered.

"Now listen, because I won't repeat myself. Firstly, living with your mom, grandma, and great-grandmother doesn't mean you're a mama's boy, secondly, you're a police officer, so you can't be a scoundrel or an idiot. I'm not sorry, you can be an idiot, but thirdly, everything you've done rules out your being one, and fourthly, you don't look like a failure...

" "Thanks."

He hugged me and kissed me...

I think that's what I call a happy ending... for two.