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Long time readers of this blog may remember the murder house across the street from me. Well, the house is no more, or mostly no more, as it caught on fire this evening. Possibly not by accident, from discussion with my neighbors, who saw it go from a single flicker at a window to wholly engulfed in fire in something like a minute.  Plus one of the firemen was walking up and down, videoing the crowd, which made me think they also had arson in mind.

On the other hand, it's been the realm of squatters for years, so I would not be surprised if it was just a firetrap.  Fortunately, I don't think anyone was living there currently.

ETA: Ah, yes, this might explain the whole "from flicker to fireball" thing. Twitter tells me "SJFD IC calling for shut down of ladder pipes on S 7th fire near SJSU to evaluate report of Meth lab."

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The landlords of the murder house finally kicked everyone out a few months ago, and it's now apparently being renovated. Slowly. However, someone in the neighborhood is keeping up the proud tradition of exciting Saturday nights, because there are eight police cars and a van in front of my house, and they are hunting someone with dogs.

Police dogs are very... vocal... when they've found something interesting. One has flashbacks to chain gang movies.
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This one featured arguing, much smashing of glass, but no shooting. Though I think someone was stabbed; at least, when the cops arrived their spotlight fell on a gentleman making his way down the sidewalk, not entirely steadily and with one hand clutched tightly to his chest just above his heart.

Interestingly, the cops didn't get out to talk to him. They made a brief survey of the area, but finding no dead bodies, departed again.

I need a bloodshed icon.

Oh, and since I failed to give the followup to what happened last time:

police report under the cut )
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There are still cop cars and evidence vans outside, 8 hours later. "A single, possible double homicide", according to the cop that is stationed closest, and the street is a network of orange yellow tape crisscrossing as it blocks of paths of evidence. One of them apparently died about 30 feet from my front door; I couldn't see it last night, because cop cars were in the way, but there's a rather pathetic pair of sunglasses sitting in front of the neighbor's driveway, marked with a little yellow evidence marker, and spiraling out from it a dark trail of blood that wanders thickly from gutter to sidewalk and back, and ends in a dribbling narrowing blankness that is creepily suggestive.

I'm stuck here for the moment, as no one can leave.
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Well, this is certainly exciting. A party across the street was disintegrating into argument, whch I was listening to with one ear, when I heard a firecracker pop. Then two more, sounding so much like gunshots that I ducked down on my couch to get my head below window level. Nothing more, and I thought I must be wrong because the shouting voices stayed at argument level instead of breaking up into screams. I called 911 anyway, just to report the argument, and said diffidently that I had heard pops but I didn't think they were bullets. There are now eight cop cars on my street, people lying face down cuffed on the asphalt, and I heard two cops discussing the blood trail down the sidewalk they were cordoning off.