Neil rarely felt shaken by crime scene photographs. But he couldn't get the images of Kristen, Alistair and Jacob Thompson out of his head. It was as if the pictures captured more than the victims' corpses. They captured the brutality that went into each person's murder and torture. They reminded Neil of Joey Crusel.

He slept intermittently until he called Jesse in the early morning. He needed a familiar voice to console him. Even though Jesse was pissed off at being awoken, it was still comforting to Neil. While Neil felt like the biggest asshole in the world to have asked so much from Jesse, he valued Jesse's skills as a researcher. That was a quality that he both loved and admired in Jesse.

But talking with Jesse still wasn't enough. Each time that Neil closed his eyes, he could see Joey in a straitjacket. He was singing that godforsaken nursery rhyme:

"One, two, Freddy's coming for you…"

"Three, four, better lock your doors…"

With each dream, Neil could see a dark figure materializing behind Joey. It first started as a gray fog. Then, it grew darker until its shape was outlined in black. Then, in his last dream, Neil could see the tip of a fedora hat.

Joey seemed disturbed by the presence. "Dr. Gordon, please…help me…"

Neil could see something tearing at Joey's restraints—was it a blade? Before Neil could know the answer, he was awoken by his alarm clock.


The radio was playing Leonard Cohen's "A Thousand Deep Kisses." Neil turned off the alarm, and looked at the digits between his swollen eyelids. It was 7:00am just as he set it. Before Neil went to the bathroom, he sat on the edge of the bed. He pulled out his phone, and viewed his messages. There was some good news in terms of the appointment. Maggie had texted him, and moved their 9:00am meeting to noon. There was also a new meeting location: Springwood Public Library.

This gave Neil enough time to gather whatever materials Jesse could send him. He checked FedEx Office at around 10:00am, and was surprised that the faxes were ready. Neil paid the costs, and headed early to the Springwood Public Library.

In a study room, he pored over the articles about Freddy Krueger. There was a case study that spanned several mental institutions. Neil shouldn't have been surprised not to see Westin Hills. When the murderous rampage occurred, administration was too busy covering up the security breach. They didn't dare leak mention of Freddy Krueger to the media.

The case study mentioned patients that had delusions of Freddy. Many of the patients were eventually placed in maximum security cells. Another commonality was that the patients committed suicide—only the great mystery was that they died from self-inflicted wounds. None of the patients had access to knives. This led the experts to think that the patients were so far gone that they used their own hands to make the deadly wounds.

According to a cultural anthropology article, there was a cult in the Mountain Region that worshipped Freddy Krueger. During early autumn, they would do a ritual in which the male members donned fedora hats, and the females would make art pieces that resembled Freddy's charred face. The head member slaughters pigs with a glove adorned with knives. It is done to bring forth the harvest. Another article mentioned a cult from the 1970's in Kansas. The members were so high on LSD that they fashioned their own finger knives. They murdered several people in a small town, including children.

Neil then studied the illustrations. He thumbed through Freddy's different incarnations until settling on the drawing that showed Freddy amidst flames.

"It looks like Bosch meets Munch," said Maggie.

"Maggie, how did you find me?" asked Neil.

"I come here a lot. The librarian knew that I was meeting someone here. You looked out of place, so he figured it was you," replied Maggie.

"Out of place?" asked Neil.

"You're wearing a salmon-colored shirt and tan shoes. Most people on this side of town prefer plaid," said Maggie.

"So much for blending in," said Neil.

"How's the bed and breakfast?" asked Maggie.

Neil was a little taken aback from Maggie's friendly demeanor. When he encountered her at the jail, he figured that she was always prickly and businesslike.

"It's nice. I don't remember the last time I had a quiche. The folks there are very nice," said Neil.

"They are. I went to high school with the owner. It's funny. He couldn't wait to get out of Springwood. Then, when they started the gentrification, he came running back to town to set up shop."

"You know, I can't help but notice that the town is a little divided," said Neil.

"Well, we have a lot of Californians that moved here. I guess Portland was too metropolitan, so they wanted to build their own paradise. Springwood seemed like prime terrain, I suppose. One side is the old part, and another the new part," said Maggie.

"Boy, the townspeople must really hate Californians," said Neil.

"At first. But the Thompsons changed that whole image," said Maggie.

"That's right. They were transplants from California. So how's it going with Nancy?" asked Neil, seizing his opportunity to segue into business.

"Well, I submitted an ex parte petition to the court for you to do a psych evaluation," said Maggie. "My assistant is going to call me any minute now to say if it's a yea or nay."

"Great. I've been gathering some materials to prepare for my evaluation," said Neil.

"I've been in touch with a buddy of mine that used to work with the Sheriff's Department. According to him, the standards have gone down since he worked there," said Maggie.

"How so?" asked Neil.

"I've been analyzing the investigation files with him. The CSI dusted for fingerprints, and Nancy's fingerprints were at each crime scene. But what they failed to consider is that it's a home. Nancy's fingerprints are going to show up everywhere! There was even something that was photographed, but not tested," said Maggie.

"What's that?" asked Neil.

"I don't have the actual photo. But the log states that a snapshot was taken of a metal hinge found underneath the Thompsons's bed," replied Maggie.

"Metal hinge? I've never heard of a weapon with a hinge," said Neil.

"Exactly. But the prosecution is claiming that Nancy murdered her family with a knife. Yet, no murder weapon was found," said Maggie.

"Did they bag the hinge with the evidence?" asked Neil.

"That's just it. It was logged, but apparently the hinge was lost in the investigation," said Maggie.

"Poor work, indeed," said Neil.

"That's not even counting that there was no motive whatsoever. The Thompsons were in great financial shape, and there were no traces of Jacob having an affair. They were cleaner than the Cleavers," said Maggie.

"What about the kids?" asked Neil, "They were found in the basement, weren't they?"

"That is an entirely separate mystery," said Maggie, "Even my buddy was stumped about that part."

"Did Nancy have any way of kidnapping those kids?"

"Nancy, no. But Jacob, on the other hand, was on the board for a children's program. It was for underprivileged kids, almost like a 'Boys & Girls Club.'"

"Were any of those murdered kids part of that program?" asked Neil.

"The program didn't have the best recordkeeping. A few of the names did match. But that's not to say that he used some of the kids to attract other victims," said Maggie.

"You mean, if Jacob was behind those disappearances. You sound like you've been doing your homework. Did you have to subpoena those records?" asked Neil.

"It took several subpoenas just to get the sparest details. And even then, I feel like the Sheriff's Department is holding back on me," said Maggie. "It's because everyone has a hard-on for the D.A. Ron Grady. His father was a popular judge, and basically set up the 'good old boy' network that stinks up the old part of this town."

"Well, you have an ally. I don't go for the 'good old boy' network," said Neil.

"But even if we can get you to do a psych evaluation, I'm afraid that Nancy won't be able to hold up. She's been going without sleep for days. And when she does sleep, she goes into a psychosis that lasts for hours at end," said Maggie.

"She still believes that Freddy Krueger is terrorizing her?" asked Neil.

"Yes, that's all she seems to be talking about lately. It's obvious that something happened to her mind that night," said Maggie, "If you can't snap her out of it, and show that she is able to stand trial, our case is basically sunk and we're back to square one."

"But she doesn't need to stand trial in her defense, right?" asked Neil.

"I'm just saying that hypothetically. We need her to be cognizant enough for at least a deposition. Then, her sworn statement might overturn whatever was stated to the Sheriff's and we can move for a 'not guilty' plea."

"Well, I'm confident that I can break through to Nancy. I had my partner send me everything he could find on Freddy Krueger," said Neil.

"And how's that going to help with Nancy?" asked Maggie.

"Look, I've encountered something similar before," said Neil.

"Do tell," responded Maggie. Her curiosity was piqued.

"A few years ago, I was a doctor at a hospital that…that provided care to mentally disturbed teenagers," said Neil. "There was one patient of mine…Joey Crusel…he was also having delusions that Freddy Krueger was terrorizing him."

"Was he a schizophrenic?" asked Maggie.

"No. He was an honor student until the delusions happened. He didn't show the usual signs of schizophrenia. He only withdrew when the episodes began to happen."

"So, how did it work? Did you convince him that Freddy was all in his head?" asked Maggie.

"I was making progress in that direction, yes. But my superior decided that my approach wasn't fast enough, and they ended up medicating him. It was just political bullshit. The hospital needed to meet their quota in order for a pharmaceutical company to keep sponsoring them," said Neil.

"Something tells me the meds didn't work out well," said Maggie, as she leaned back and folded her arms.

"Well, Joey had a bad reaction to the medication, and he ended up murdering the entire wing…patients, security guards, hospital staff. I reported for work the next morning, and found everybody dead. Joey was hunched in a corner, trying to revive Taryn, a patient that he considered a friend…"

"While I was talking to Joey, I speed-dialed 9-1-1 on my cell phone without him seeing, and waited for the police to arrive. They arrested him on the spot," said Neil.

"Oh my god. You were lucky, you know" said Maggie, shaking her head at the story.

"For a long time, I didn't consider myself lucky. I grew attached to all of those kids. I felt that I really let everybody down, Joey especially. I should've fought hard for them, and not let all of that bureaucratic stuff get in the way," said Neil.

"So, I see why you're not into factions," responded Maggie, "I can't guarantee that it won't go down the same way, Neil. And since the stakes are so high, don't repeat this story to anybody while the case is pending."

"I know," responded Neil, "I realize that the odds are against us."

Maggie's cell phone rang.

"Maggie Burroughs…Tracy, tell me some good news. Are they letting us do the psych test?" asked Maggie.

Inside, Neil was keeping his fingers crossed.

"That's the best news I've heard all day," said Maggie. She took out her notepad, and jotted something down. "Thanks, Tracy. You're the best, bye."

Maggie turned her notepad around so that Neil could see it.

"They're letting you do the evaluation. The earliest they could make it is tomorrow afternoon," said Maggie.

"Great. Can I photocopy this?" asked Neil.

"Keep it. I've got it memorized already. I better go and prepare my next motion. You should have enough time to prepare for tomorrow. You practically have 24 hours to get yourself in shape and prove that our client is not a lunatic."

"No pressure," responded Neil.

"Well, just like my dad used to say, 'whatever doesn't break you, makes you,'" said Maggie. "I'll be in touch with you tomorrow about the session."


It was just after sunset, and Neil was going back and forth between his questions and the articles. He needed to find some way to break through to Nancy. Of course, he wasn't going to coach her into stating what Maggie wanted. But Neil was going to phrase his questions so Nancy herself could see that Freddy Krueger didn't exist.

As he readied his pen to formulate a new question, Neil's phone rang. He looked at the screen, and was overjoyed that it was Jesse.

"Jesse, I'm so glad it's you. Thanks so much for earlier. Everything that you sent was just…amazing…" said Neil.

"I'm glad, Neil."

"I'm so sorry about calling you so early. To be honest, it wasn't just about the research. It's pretty lonely up here, and I wanted to hear your voice."

"Well, you'll be able to hear my voice more when…uh." Jesse's voice was cut off. He winced from a shooting pain in his ankle. On his end, Jesse leaned over to check if his bandage was still intact.

"What's wrong? I just heard you groan. Are you okay?" asked Neil.

"I'm in some pain…because of my leg…" said Jesse.

"Why?" asked a concerned Neil.

"I burned it in my office," said Jesse.

"In your office. How the hell did that happen?" asked a puzzled Neil.

"I'll explain it to you when I arrive in Portland," said Jesse.

"What? You're coming over here?" asked Neil.

"My plane's going to land in about an hour. Look, I need to show you what happened to me. It's not something that I can just…describe over the phone. I had to see you in person. This won't interrupt your work too much, will it?"

The seriousness in Jesse's voice gave Neil pause. "No, of course not, you'd never interrupt anything. You're my partner."

"We'll talk more when I arrive?"

"Definitely. I'll meet you at Portland International Airport. We can still make it to a Thai place I heard about," said Neil.

"That sounds nice…really nice," said Jesse. His voice sounded scattered.

"Jesse…" said Neil.

"Yes?"

"Do I need to worry?" asked Neil.

Jesse gave a deep sigh. "I don't know, Neil. This isn't something that I've ever encountered before. To be honest with you, I'm kind of scared."

"Okay, don't be scared. I'll see you at the airport. I'm really glad that you'll be here," said Neil.

"Neil, I don't want to panic you, but…in the meantime…"

"What. What is it?"

"Whatever you do, don't fall asleep," said Jesse.