Only Child

“Don’t untie me,” she whispered, dropping her shoulders to the bed. “Not yet, okay?”

“It was like...a string of little firecrackers, going off in me.”

“Did you find out what you wanted to know?”

“Yes. Cyn was right.”

“About what?”

“You know,” she said. “Can she come in now?”

“You know what I do hate,” I said to Cyn, much later that night. “Movies.”

“Movies?” she said, propping herself on one elbow. “You mean some movies, right?”

“Remember what you always said is the answer to every question?”

“Power power power,” Rejji whispered, from the foot of the bed.

“Yeah. You ever see a movie called The Bad Seed? An old one, from the Fifties, black and white...but they show it all the time on TV, still.”

“I did!” Rej said. “It was the scariest movie I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“I’ve seen it, too,” Cyn said. She reached out one hand, pulled on Rejji’s chain so that the dark-haired girl came closer to her.

“You think it was true?” I asked them both.

“You mean, like, based-on-a-true-story true?” Rejji asked.

“Yeah.”

“I think it probably was,” Cyn said guardedly. “Parts of it, anyway.”

“So you think that little girl, the one who committed all those murders, she was born the way she was?”

“She was,” Rejji said. “It...skipped a generation, like. Wasn’t it her grandmother who was also—”

“I don’t even remember,” I said. “What I do remember is the whole idea of the movie. Some people are just born evil; it’s in their genes. It doesn’t matter how they’re raised, or who raises them; they are what they are. Destiny. That little girl in the movie, she had great parents. They adored her. Even the neighbor, some woman, she was mad about the kid. They gave her everything.”

“Why does that make you so furious?” Cyn asked, tuned in now.

“Because it’s the dirtiest fucking lie ever told,” I said, remembering the calico cats. “The worst one of all. No kid is born bad. Or born good, either. There’s no genetic code for rapist, or serial killer.”

“But there’s been kids from good homes who—”

“This isn’t about some abuse-excuse rap,” I said. “Some people turn out to be no fucking good no matter how they’re brought up. But they weren’t born to it. There’s nothing about their DNA that makes them that way.”

“Why is that so important?” Cyn asked.

“Because that one miserable fucking movie probably did more to condemn kids than anything the government ever did. You think people on juries get their information from scientific studies? They get their ‘knowledge’ from movies. You just proved it, the both of you.”

“Well, how are we supposed to—?”

“I’m not blaming you, Cyn. I guess I’m agreeing with you. It’s all about power. And the movies have it, in spades.”

“Well, there isn’t a lot you could do about that, honey, is there?”

“We can find this Vision,” I told her.

“Vision?” the Prof scoffed, the next morning. “Motherfucker’s name should be ‘Invisible,’ hard as we’ve looked for him.”

“We don’t know the turf,” I said. “It’s not like any tracking we ever did.”

Cyn and Rejji sat quietly, together, listening. Michelle was off somewhere with the Mole. Terry was out working the teens.

“You think the children know, mahn?” Clarence.

“You know what, brother? I did think so. But now I don’t. Whoever he is, he rides the thermals, drops down whenever he sees something he wants, then skies away. I think the mistake we’ve been making is assuming he’s like other freaks—the kind we’re used to. You see what I’m saying?”

“Yeah, Schoolboy. You can always tell where they going by where they been. Not this boy.”

“Not this boy,” I agreed.

“Come on with it,” the Prof encouraged me. Like he’d been doing since I’d hit the prison yard that first time.

“It’s not a new thing, right?” I said. “Cameras. They’ve been used as everything from lures to kill-props since they were invented. When I was just a little kid, I remember hearing about this maggot. Glatman, I think his name was. He did it real simple. Just put an ad in the papers for photo models. He was smart. Worked L.A.—that’s a refugee camp for pretty girls from everyplace else. When a woman would answer his ad, he’d tell them he was on assignment from one of those ‘detective’ magazines they had back then. Needed some damsel-in-distress stuff...no nudity, just a little cleavage. And some ropes.

“The ones who went for it, he just drove them to the ‘location,’ out in the desert, tied them up, did what he did, then left them there, dead.”

“There’s always been that,” the Prof agreed. “Most of it’s not about murder. Sometimes, it’s just a scam to get a woman’s clothes off. And some cockless motherfuckers, they need the prop, you know? Remember when the Times Square joints used to have those ‘camera clubs,’ son? You could rent a camera from them, pose the girl the way you wanted. Only thing they wouldn’t let you in those rooms with was a roll of film.”

“Yeah.”

“But we don’t know what this Vision guy wants,” the Prof said, tapping one temple.

“Not yet we don’t,” I said. “But I’m sure of one thing. That camera of his, Prof, it’s no prop. He’s not faking. Whatever he wants, he wants it on tape.”

“Burke! Wait till you hear this!”

“Calm down, Cyn. What’s so—?”

“We went back to see Kori...the paddle girl...again,” Rejji said.

“Why?”

“Because Cyn always knows,” Rejji said. “And she was right.”

“You found out where this Vision...?”

“No,” Cyn said. “She really doesn’t know any more about that than she told us. But you know what she does know?”

“Cyn...”

“She knows about a guy who pays teenage girls to pose. Just like that Glatman freak you were telling us —”

“Bondage photos?” I asked her, listening hard now.

“No...” Cyn said reluctantly. “‘Naughty schoolgirl’ stuff.”

“What’s that mean?”

“Oh, you know, Burke. A cheerleader lifting up her skirt to show her panties, like that.”

“So what makes you think—”

“Well, he only uses actual schoolgirls. He has to see a birth certificate, a photo ID from school, and even a report card! He’s only into the real thing....”

“That’s a long ways from homicide.”

“But, come on, he might know something, right?” Cyn said, almost pleading with me.

“Tomorrow afternoon,” I promised her. “Now let me get some sleep.”