"To the kid?"
"Usually not. To their parent, or a puppyeven to some character on TV the child loves."
"The kid believes it?" I asked. When I was Scotty's age, I didn't believe anything.
"Of course. The offender is all-powerful. He can do anything. And the secret is helped by the guilt too."
"Why should a kid feel guilty if somebody did that to him?"
"Because they like some of it…it arouses new feelings in them. And, for some of them, they believe the person who is doing these things actually loves them. A parent will tell a child that if the secret comes out the parent may go to jail…and it will be the child's fault. You see?"
"Yeah, they make the kid take the weight."
Scotty was crying, his face buried in his hands. Immaculata was bending over him, talking to him, patting his back.
"You know a D.A. named Wolfe? With the City-Wide Special Victims Bureau?"
"Sure," said Lily. "She's the best. I do a lot of work for her office."
"You think you might be willing to put in a good word for me?"
"Are you looking for a job as an investigator?"
"No. I just want to talk with her about this case, maybe get some help. And I don't know too many people on her side of the fence."
"I could tell her what I know about you-that's all."
"Hey!" I said. "I brought the kid out safely, didn't I?"
"Yes, you did. Your methods left a bit to be desired, didn't they?"
"I don't know," I told her. "Why don't you ask Babette?"
Lily smiled. "I'll talk to Wolfe," she said, and we shook hands.
Scotty wasn't crying anymore. His tear-streaked face was turned to Max, his little hands flying. Max took some picture from Scotty's hands-it looked like crayon scribbles to me. Then he pulled the round wooden top off one of the tables, held it so the edge was facing the floor, and wedged it into a corner of the room. Max tested it with his hands to be sure it was solid. He wet his thumb and pasted the picture against the round surface. He bowed to Scotty, spun his wrists so the palms were facing outward, and flicked his fingers to his side. Telling them to stand back.
Lily was standing next to me at the window. "I never saw this one before," she said.
Max glided forward onto his left foot, twisting as it hit the ground. His right foot came around in a blur, shattering the wooden table like it was glass. He walked to the corner, pulled Scotty's drawing out of the wreckage, and turned to face the boy. Max tore the picture in half, throwing a piece to each side like it was garbage. The little boy's smile was wider than his face.
The door opened. Max stepped out first. He rubbed two fingers and a thumb together, pointing at me. "How much for the table?" I asked Lily.
"It's on the house," she said, a smile on her face too.
Immaculata came out with Scotty holding her hand. "I got the bad stuff out," he told Lily proudly.
"That's wonderful!" she said. "Would you like to play with the other children outside while we talk?"
"Can Max come?" Scotty asked.
Nobody answered him. "Come on, Max," he said, tugging at the Mongol's hand.
Immaculata nodded almost imperceptibly. Max and Scotty walked down the hall together to play.
76
LILY TOOK us to her office, at the end of the corridor. It looked like a kid's playroom except for the computer screen on the desk. I looked at the keyboard-there was no lock-out device. "How do you keep someone from getting into your records?" I asked her.
She laughed, tapping some keys. "Want to play a fast game of Zork before we get down to business?" The screen had some kind of mazes-and-monsters game on it.
"That's all you have it for?"
"Sure," she said, looking at Immaculata as if I was an idiot.
I lit a cigarette, looking around for an ashtray. "Use this," Lily said, handing me an empty water glass.
Immaculata sat behind the desk; Lily perched on a corner. I stood against the wall and listened.
"Scotty was going to a day-care center every day after school. He'd get there around one in the afternoon and his mother would pick him up when she got out of work. Around six o'clock. One day a woman came to the center. Scotty said she was an 'old lady,' but that could mean anyone older than his mother. She had a van and a driver-a big, fat man with a beard. She told the kids she was going to take them to see the clowns and who wanted to go? Scotty went with some other kids. It took what he said was 'a long, long time' to get there. A big house with a high fence around it. There was a clown there-a big, fat clown, like the driver. His face was all made up like a clown, and he had presents for all the kids. The clown and the old lady took Scotty out of the group where he was playing with the other kids. They took him into the basement, where they had a puppy. They told him he could have the puppy if he would be a 'good little scout.'
"To be a good scout you have to take your pants off. They let him keep his shirt on. It was red and black stripes. He has it in his closet at home," Mac said, answering one of the questions I'd told her to ask.
"The clown took off his pants too. His penis was very large. It scared the boy. They asked him if he wanted ice cream. They rubbed some on the clown's penis and told Scotty to lick it off. He started to cry. The old lady told him if he didn't do what he was told, they would hurt the puppy. He still refused. The clown strangled the puppy in front of him. Scotty didn't want to watch but he had to. He has bad dreams about the puppy. He's always scared."
The cigarette burned into my fingers. I threw it on the floor, stepped on it. Immaculata's face was closed-a soldier doing her job.
"The man put his penis in Scotty's mouth-told him to suck very hard. The woman took a picture with a Polaroid and a flash. White stuff came out. Scotty cried. The old woman told him if he ever told anyone about this his mother would get very sick and die. They took him back upstairs and put him into the van with the other kids. The other kids all had a great time."
"How does he know it was a Polaroid?" I asked.
"He doesn't know the name, but he said a camera where the picture comes out the front."
"Did he see the picture?"
"I think so. At least the fact that there was a picture." She took a breath. "Scotty never told anybody-he was scared something would happen. But his mother took him to a therapist, and he told the therapist about bad dreams. That's all. He was afraid of the therapist-he had a beard like the big, fat clown.
"Later he told some of it to the redheaded woman who brought him to the parking lot today-he calls her 'Zia.' He told her that the old lady came to the day-care center with a big, strong man who had a leather bag. The man took money from the leather bag and gave it to the lady who runs the day-care center. And there was some strange mark on the big man's hand. That's it," she said.
"He's going to need help with the dreams," Lily said.
"I know," Immaculata replied.
"He's not still afraid of anything happening to his mother?" I asked her.
"No," she said, smiling faintly, "Max told Scotty he would guard his mother."
"What was that bit with the table, Mac?" Lily wanted to know.
"Scotty drew a picture of the big, fat clown. Max told him he was going to find the clown and break him in little pieces. He was showing Scotty what he meant."
I lit another cigarette. "Does he have any idea at all where the big house is? You think he could find it if we went over the route?"
"Not a chance," Mac said. "He wasn't paying attention on the drive out there-and he was too scared on the way back to the center."