Deborah looked at me, and I shrugged. It was a fair point. After all, there must surely be some practical limit to what you can do while sleepwalking, and this did seem to go a little beyond that.
“Then where did the dream come from, Jerry?” she said.
“Everybody has dreams,” he said.
“And how did the blood get on your clothes?”
“Wilkins did it,” he said. “He had to, there’s no other answer.”
There was a knock on the door and the sergeant came in. He bent over and spoke softly into Deborah’s ear, and I leaned closer to hear. “This guy’s lawyer is making trouble,” he said. “He says now that the heads turned up while his client is in here, he has to be innocent.” The sergeant shrugged. “I can’t keep him outta here,” he said.
“All right,” Debs said. “Thanks, Dave.” He shrugged again, straightened, and left the room.
Deborah looked at me. “Well,” I said, “at least it doesn’t seem too easy anymore.”
She turned back to Halpern. “All right, Jerry,” she said. “We’ll talk some more later.” She stood up and walked out of the room and I followed.
“What do we think about that?” I asked her.
She shook her head. “Jesus, Dex, I don’t know. I need a major break here.” She stopped walking and turned to face me. “Either the guy really did this in one of his blackouts, which means he set the whole thing up without really knowing, which is impossible.”
140
JEFF LINDSAY
“Probably,” I said.
“Or else somebody else went to a shitload of trouble to set it up and frame him, and timed it just right to match one of his blackouts.”
“Which is also impossible,” I said helpfully.
“Yeah,” she said. “I know.”
“And the statue with the bull’s head and the fire in its belly?”
“Fuck,” she said. “It’s just a dream. Has to be.”
“So where were the girls burned?”
“You want to show me a giant statue with a bull’s head and a built-in barbecue? Where do you hid
e that? You find it and I’ll believe it’s real,” she said.
“Do we have to release Halpern now?” I asked.
“No, goddamn it,” she snarled. “I still got him on resisting arrest.” And she turned away and walked back toward the receiving area.
Cody and Astor were sitting with the sergeant when we got back out to the entryway, and even though they had not remained where I told them to, I was so grateful that they had not set anything on fire that I let it go. Deborah watched impatiently while I collected them, and we all headed out the door together. “Now what?” I said.
“We have to talk to Wilkins, of course,” Deborah said.
“And do we ask him if he has a statue with a bull’s head in his backyard?” I asked her.
“No,” she said. “That’s bullshit.”
“That’s a bad word,” said Astor. “You owe me fifty cents.”
“It’s getting late,” I said. “I have to get the kids home before their mother barbecues me.”