‘OK, so he spouts all this gibberish,’ Walter prompted her. ‘Then what?’
‘He opens the door and disappears inside the trailer, and I’m left out there all on my ownsome, and it’s still rainin’ cats’n’dogs and the music’s still playin’. I’m about to turn around and go back the way I come but then I hear a woman sobbin’ her heart out. I follow the sound of her sobbin’ and it’s comin’ from inside of this little black tent.
‘I push my way into the tent but there’s no woman inside it, only a man in a black suit and he’s standin’ with his back to me. I say excuse me, sir, but at first he don’t answer. I say excuse me again and then he turns around and he has this clown face and he’s grinnin’ this greasepaint smile at me even though his real mouth ain’t grinnin’ at all.
‘He says somethin’ to me but I don’t understand what it is and I’m so darn scared that I fight my way back out of that tent and I run and I run in between the tents and the trailers and down the hill and that’s when I usually wake up.’
Charlie said, ‘That’s some nightmare, Netta.’
‘Every night, too. Every night the same. For weeks and weeks and I don’t know how to stop havin’ it. And I don’t know why I’m havin’ it, or what it’s supposed to mean. Like, dreams are supposed to have meanin’s, aren’t they? Like you dream about a pigeon poopin’ on your head and that means you’re goin’ to win the lotto.’
‘This clown you see, what color is his make-up?’
‘His face is like gray but his lips are shiny green.’
‘And he has long gray hair?’
Netta fixed him with her good left eye. ‘How do you know that?’
‘Because I know a whole lot about clowns and I think that this particular clown is called Mago Verde, the Green Magician. Part clown, part conjuror. And you heard that rat-person say “may go wordy”, right? “May go wordy” — that could be “Mago Verde”.’
‘Hey,’ said Netta. She was impressed. ‘That’s exactly what it sounded like, Mago Verde.’
Charlie said, ‘“Prennay guard”, you’re right, that’s French — “prenez garde” — and that means “beware”. Sounds like this rat-creature was telling you to watch out for Mago Verde.’
‘How about “coop sign pianos”? What does that mean? And “gang up you start”?’
‘I don’t have a clue,’ Charlie admitted. ‘But give me some time, and I’ll work on it.’
Netta said, ‘Guess you think I’m losin’ my reason. It’s the stress, probably. My brother Kyle lost his job at the Brook Park engine factory last September and he and me have been strugglin’ to make ends meet ever since.’
Walter took hold of Netta’s piggy little hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. ‘You’re probably right. Maybe you should talk to your pharmacist — ask him for something to help you sleep more heavy.’
When Netta went off to refill Walter’s soda glass, Walter leaned across the table and said, ‘How about that? Netta’s been having the same goddamned nightmares as Maria Fortales. The same — in every detail. How in hell’s name can that happen?’
Charlie pulled a face. ‘It’s not totally unknown for strangers to share the same dream. Some psychologists think that dreams are like an alternate state of reality, rather than an alternate state of consciousness.’
‘Meaning exactly what, exactly?’
‘You know, like that Second Life thing you can do on the Internet — turning yourself into a sexy-looking avatar and leading a double life in some tropical fantasy world. And Carl Jung believed that the entire human race shares a collective unconscious.’
‘Oh, yeah? Carl Jung must have gone to see that last Mel Gibson movie. The whole audience was collectively unconscious, including me.’
Netta brought them their food. Walter immediately picked up his triple cheeseburger in both hands and took a large bite; but Charlie said, ‘Were you ever scared of clowns, Netta, when you were a kid?’
Netta shook her head. ‘Clowns? No, never. I loved clowns. They used to make me laugh.’
‘You never had a scary experience at a circus, or a carnival?’
‘I was sick as a dog once on the Tivoli Spin-out Ride at the Ohio State Fair. But then so was most everybody else. But I don’t know. Maybe somethin’ bad happened to me when I was a kid and I got some kind of horrible memory that’s just comin’ out only now.’
Walter flapped his hand at Charlie and said, with his mouth full, ‘Eat.’ At that moment, however, his cellphone rang. He picked it up and said, ‘What? I’m on my lunch break.’
But he listened, and then he said, ‘Where?’ and at the same time he slowly lowered his triple cheeseburger back on to his plate.
‘Something wrong?’ asked Charlie.
Walter nodded. ‘That was Skrolnik. He had a call from the School of Law where Maria Fortales was studying. There was blood dripping out from the bottom of her locker.’
‘Jesus. Did they open it?’
‘Of course. They thought that she might be locked up inside of it, and still alive.’
‘But she’s not?’
Walter turned to Netta and said, ‘Hey, sweet cheeks, the call of duty calls. Could you put this burger into a box for me, so that I can take it out?’
He waited until she had taken his plate back to the kitchen before he turned to Charlie and said, ‘They found her arms, that’s all.’
‘Only her arms?’ Charlie looked down at his hotdog and pushed his plate away.
‘Maybe that was the sawing noise that old man Yarber said he could hear.’
‘But there was no blood. How do you saw off a girl’s arms without spraying a whole lot of blood around?’
‘Search me, Charlie. Let’s go take a look for ourselves.’
It was raining even harder by the time they turned into the parking lot outside the George Gund Building, where the School of Law was housed. An ambulance was parked there already, its red lights flashing, as well as two squad cars and a black Grand Voyager from the Cuyahoga County coroner’s office.
Officer Skrolnik was waiting for them underneath the slabby concrete entrance.
‘Sorry about your lunch, detectives,’ he said, although he didn’t look sorry at all, only tired.
‘When did you get the call?’ asked Walter.
‘Only about forty-five minutes ago. One of Maria’s friends was trying to slip a note into her locker when she noticed that there was blood seeping out of the bottom of the door. She went to find the co-director. The co-director called nine-one-one and then she had the janitor cut off the padlock.’
‘OK. Lead on, MacSkrolnik.’
Officer Skrolnik ushered them into the shiny marble lobby area, which was arranged with pale turned-oak sculptures that looked like gigantic doorknobs and chess pieces. Then he led them along the corridor where the students’ gray steel lockers were lined up.
One of the locker doors was wide open, and bent almost double, and three police officers and two CSIs were gathered around it, as well as a paramedic and a bored-looking deputy coroner. Walter and Charlie joined them, with a few desultory ‘hi’s’ and ‘how’s it going’s?’ One of the CSIs was taking pictures, so that whenever his camera flashed, everybody appeared to jump two inches in the air.
Walter went up to the locker and looked inside. ‘Ah, shit,’ he said. ‘I had a feeling this was going to turn out bad.’