He stepped carefully into the room. He didn't like what he saw. It wasn't the velvet drapes. Or the velvet couch. Or all the astrology charts on the wall that bothered him. No. It was the smashed crystal ball, the tarot cards strewn about the table and floor, and the red hand print on the wall. Blood? Maybe, maybe not. Fresh? Couldn't tell. He'd know soon enough from the forensics report.
There was a commotion, the neighbors told the officers. And screams. His bet was this. Someone freaked at the spoken fortune, and now this seer would see no more.
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