Dorothy Allison - A Psychic Story

by A Psychic Story (lit)

  In her mind Francis connected Dorothy with her faith in God. She felt certain that Dorothy's spiritual and psychic abilities were closely knitted to her own faith. Before she ever met the Nutley psychic, she believed in her, as she believed in God.

  Early Thursday afternoon Bob Allison opened the door for the Carluccis, the Delardos and the Carluccis' Nutley friend, Maureen. They all sat down in the Allisons' den, where Dorothy served food and introduced Justine and Paul to the families, telling them that she felt certain she would find their children within the next three days.

  Any trepidation the strangers might have been feeling was quickly assuaged by the familial spirit of Dorothy's home. Justine and Paul told them about other cases Dorothy had worked on, and resolved, most of them within thirty days.

  The doorbell rang again, and Dorothy shouted that the door was unlocked and that Jason was in the basement. The door opened, revealing the energetic and smiling face of Don Vicaro. Dorothy kissed him and wished him a happy holiday. Then she introduced him to the two Colonia families.

  "This man has worked with me on cases over the last several years and can help interpret things that I'm seeing," Dorothy explained. "Let's sit in the living room and talk seriously."

  The parents of the missing girls told the story of the night their daughters disappeared, and the police investigation that ensued. In solemn detail the families told how a thirteen-state alarm was in effect; of the days and nights that schoolmates, relatives, neighbors, and rescue-squad volunteers had joined in an intensive search in the towns of Colonia, Edison, Clark, and Rahway; of questioning dozens of schoolmates and subjecting them to polygraphs; of walking through dense brush and forests in the cold rain and snow; of finding caves and holes and hoping against hope that their children might be buried there; of the dozens of crank calls and hopeful sightings of their little girls; of the $1,500 reward that was offered; of posting the girls' photographs on bulletin boards in shopping centers, office buildings, schools, and shop windows; and of the desperation and futility they had faced.

  While they spoke, Dorothy watched them closely, sizing them up as parents of the missing girls. In her hand she held the photograph of Doreen Carlucci. She had seen plenty of cases in which parents had lost children due to negligence. The world was full of negligent parents, Dorothy knew; but such was not the case with Doreen's and Joanne's parents.

  Francis Carlucci handed Dorothy some articles belonging to Doreen. Dorothy took a little gold bracelet in her hand, feeling it with her entire being. She felt sad as she held the precious possession and saw, without commenting to the families, the brutalized bodies of their little girls. She saw clearly that the girls were dead.

  Tears began to form in her eyes as Dorothy heard from Francis that the bracelet had been a confirmation gift from Doreen's grandmother, whom she called Nanny. Dorothy thought of her own grandchildren, Sam's children, and how she loved to give them presents. A single clover leaf gleamed from the chain-link bracelet, "Love, Poppy and Nanny" inscribed on the back.

  Dorothy knew she had to divert the parents' attention from too morbid thoughts. She swallowed, suppressing the tears.

  Can't let them get depressed, she thought to herself. She remembered how her mother had taken traumatic situations into hand with a sudden change in mood, steering people away from their tragedies. Dorothy knew she had to reach for something to destroy the prevailing mood.

  Dorothy looked at Vicaro. "Hey, Vic, who was that I saw you with the other night?" Dorothy suddenly called across the room.

  Vic blushed. "Where're you talking about?" he asked. "You can't hide from me, I know I saw you with someone the other night," Dorothy joked.

  His face reddened; he knew there was no escaping Dorothy's vision. Everyone laughed as the suave cop realized the only person he had been with was his wife, Maryanne.

  "I didn't say who I saw you with," Dorthy laughed. "I saw you with your wife, you guilty bastard."

  Before they settled down to more direct questioning, Dorothy and the policeman told stories that had occurred over the years while they had worked together. As soon as Dorothy saw Francis and Jeannette relaxed and smiling, she knew it was time to get to work. She began to concentrate.

  At first, in Dorothy's mind, the glow of silver metal seemed to radiate in the sun. She saw large metal boxes in a row. As she got closer, the boxes grew and she saw they were like vans. Five rows of metal vans stood next to what looked to be a wooded area.

  As she described what she was seeing, Vicaro said, "Probably a trailer camp."

  "That sounds right," Dorothy agreed. "I think it is a trailer camp."

  "Is that where the girls are hidden?" Joe Carlucci asked.

  "It's hard to tell," Dorothy said. "I don't get them in one of those trailers. They are nearby, somewhere, though."

  Shoes. She saw shoes, both as a cartoon and as real shoes. Nurse's shoes. Soft white shoes and glistening stockings. She saw a woman, her face indistinguishable, in a nurse's uniform.

  "These shoes bother me. So does the nurse," Dorothy said. "I can't figure them in this, but somewhere along the line they'll be involved. Maybe just in the area where you live."

  After dinner Justine and Bob helped set out coffee and dessert for the families. Dorothy began to see things more clearly.

  The trailer camp was in sharper focus, and she pin-pointed one trailer with blue and silver coloring. But the words "silver" and "trailer" seemed significant in themselves. And the letters "m-e-a-d" appeared in conjunction with the camp.

  "I don't know what it means, but I see the word 'silver' and the word 'mead,' like on a sign. Also the number 'nine' is important. Does any of this make any sense to you?" She looked at the parents, hoping for some indication of recognition. But none came.

  "You're going to find the girls," she said slowly, in the manner of a pronouncement, "within the next three days. Probably tomorrow or the next day.

  "I know it's rough, but let's work together in finding those two children." She sat between the two mothers, speaking forcefully, trying to support them in their grief.

  After awhile Dorothy bounced up and looked at the clock. It was nearing midnight and she still wanted time alone to work on the girls' charts. She felt the presence of death inside her, and she knew from years of experience that she could not let it destroy her, as it nearly had with Michael Kurscics. She would not fall prey to the emotions being generated around her.

  After talking with Vic, Dorothy suggested to the parents that they call the Woodbridge police with the clues Dorothy had given them.

  "Maybe they can make heads or tails of it. They ought to, for all they haven't done yet," Dorothy suggested.

  Francis Carlucci called the detective she had been dealing with and gave him the information about the trailer camp and the descriptions Dorothy gave of the area; Dorothy listened on another extension, finishing the conversation by mixing force with expletives. She feared the police would do nothing with the clues Francis Carlucci had asked them to pursue.

  It would take twenty minutes for one of those cops to locate that trailer park, if they wanted to, she thought to herself. I'm going to have to find another way of locating that place.

  That night Dorothy slept fitfully.

  Once again she "spirited" in search of the resolution, hunting for facts not yet disclosed, for landmarks that would help locate the two slain bodies she saw in the underbrush.

  This time, in contrast to her experience with the Michael Kurscics case, Dorothy was in command. She saw the faces of the girls, wracked with the agony of final fear. Though saddened by the sight, the psychic was not as vulnerable as she once had been; now she moved upward, like a spiraling hawk cutting the chilly night with determination in its helix path. Around and around the landscape seemed to turn, as her eye searched for landmarks on which to prey.

  The unfamiliar land seemed covered by spongelike darkness. Trees blanketed the ground. Light gently shimmered over a large area. As she aimed
for the light, the area began to take a more definite shape. She saw a metallic glow, not shiny like glass, but softer, like a brushed metal reflecting the moon's glow. Lines took the form of square shapes. Row after row of metal rectangles. Dorothy knew she had found the trailer park.

  She focused closer in search of landmarks. Now she could see the long low sign made of cinder blocks, with the word "silvermead" on it.

  Down through a dark vein running through the woods she moved, undaunted by the darkness that harbored the bodies of the two victims no one else could see. Past where the girls lay, on and on through the serpentine artery, she silently glided until she reached a crossing of channels and a building. It was a small office structure. The mind's peri-scoping eye saw "Goldstein lawyer." Dorothy fell into a deep slumber.

  The next morning Dorothy called the Carluccis. While she had prepared breakfast, the word "silvermead" continued to come to her, as did the vision of the trailers. Now, however, she felt that the "Goldstein" of her dream was also connected with the trailer camp.

  "Goldstein? Who is he? Where is he?" Francis asked Dorothy.

  "You know I can't tell directions very well, but I see him out at a crossroad somewhere about a mile or so from these trailers. Maybe a couple of towns below you, heading for Florida," Dorothy conjectured.

  With the description and direction given by Dorothy, Joe Carlucci acted decisively. He phoned his brother-in-law, Tom Barbuda, in Freehold, which was in the direction indicated by Dorothy, and asked him to drive with him.

  The two men spent hours driving around. Finally, after questioning people along the way, a lawyer's office was found that fit Dorothy's description.

  Joe Carlucci entered the small, single-level office building and asked the receptionist if he might have a word with a lawyer named Goldstein.

  "Do you have an appointment with Mr. Goldstein?" the young girl inquired.

  "No, this is not really a business matter. I was sent here by a psychic and I need to see if Mr. Goldstein can help me with some information."

  Confused, the secretary went into the office and came out with a short, middle-aged man who introduced himself to Joe Carlucci as Goldstein. The two men went into the lawyer's office where Joe sat down and eyed the small, prefabricated office.

  The desperate father briefly explained what had brought him to the lawyer's office. As soon as Joe mentioned that a psychic had sent him, the balding lawyer indicated that his time was valuable and that he didn't believe in psychics. Not until Joe told him the psychic had pinpointed him and said that he might, be able to decipher the words "silver" and "mead" and some connection to trailers, did Goldstein remove his wire-rim glasses and focus on the man sitting before him.

  "Silvermead?" the incredulous lawyer stammered. "Are you saying 'Silvermead' as one word?"

  "Any way you want it, I'll take it," Joe said.

  "How does this psychic know me?" the lawyer asked.

  "She doesn't. She doesn't even know where you are," Joe told him, confusing the lawyer even more.

  The lawyer swiveled in his desk chair and looked at the three diplomas on the wall. "I know where she's talking about. I own a trailer there," he said as if talking to himself. "But not many people know I have it, since my name's not on it and I don't live there."

  "Listen, Mr. Goldstein, I don't care what you do in your trailer, or why you have it. That you have a trailer is what I'm glad to hear. Just tell me where this camp is. My daughter is supposed to be near there."

  Goldstein walked Joe outside and pointed to the right, down a road leading into a wooded area. "The camp is called Silvermead Trailer Park and you'll run into it about a mile and a half down the road."

  Joe was heartened by the finding of Goldstein, although he didn't know what connections to make between his daughter and the lawyer. All he could do was follow his instincts with the details Dorothy had given the day before. She had mentioned a trailer that was blue and silver, so the two men headed down Route 9 for the Silvermead Trailer Camp in hopes of a resolution.

  The trailer-camp entrance was a dirt road off to the left of a heavily wooded area. The mobile homes lined up in five rows formed an odd community, situated in an isolated area. The two men parked the car at the entrance and walked around the ground, looking for anything that might trigger a response or connection to Dorothy's clues. Each"person they met was questioned and shown the photographs of the two adolescents.

  After they had walked through the area and felt nothing more could be done, they drove around to diners and supermarkets to show people the photographs of the girls. The hours slipped away until the sun began to set and Joe Carlucci sighed with sadness and disappointment.

  He believed in Dorothy, and he was frustrated that the police had evidently refused to consider her clues as a possibility.

  As they drove north on Pergolaville Road toward Tom Barbuda's house, a screaming ambulance flared past them, going in the opposite direction. Joe was frightened that the sirens might be heading for his daughter. After leaving his brother-in-law at his home, Joe drove north quietly and slowly, sad at the thought of facing his hopeful wife.

  Thirty minutes after Tom Barbuda had finished telling his wife of their afternoon encounters with Goldstein and the Silvermead Trailer Park, the phone rang. It was the Manalapan Police Department. The bodies of two girls had been found in the underbrush alongside Pergolaville Road by a bicyclist at around 4:00 P.M. No positive identification of the girls had been made. Could he pick up Joe Carlucci and bring him to Monmouth Medical Center for possible identification?

  "Be prepared for an unpleasant sight," the lieutenant warned Tom. "These girls are in bad shape."

  The eighteen-year-old bicyclist had spotted one of the girls lying faceup about ten feet off the road. When the police arrived, the second girl was found some ten feet away. One girl was wearing only work shoes, while the other had on a sweater and shoes.

  The two men were led into the basement morgue of the hospital, where the air was chilly and the click of their heels resonated. The bodies lay rigid on steel tables covered by white starched fabric. Frightened by the sight of death and the moment of possible resolution, the two men moved with trepidation toward the tables where a hospital attendant stood waiting to show them the corpses.

  Tom Barbudo held onto his brother-in-law while the sheet was removed, revealing Joe's daughter, Doreen. Brutality and death had worked an ugly alchemy on the girl; her flesh showed bruises that spread over much of her body.

  "Yes," the weakened man moaned. "This is my daughter."

  The other body was quickly identified as Joanne Delardo, and the two men left the room to breathe and regain their strength.

  Medical Examiner Dr. Edwin Albano and a police detective sat with the saddened father. The examiner said that the bodies were "very cold" and had probably been "outside for some time." Curiously the area in which the girls were found had been searched earlier that week and no bodies had been discovered then. The Manalapan policeman said "they had to have been dumped there sometime yesterday afternoon."

  "I don't know if yon noticed the marks on your daughter's neck," the examiner continued, "but they are strangulation marks. A rubber-coated electrical cord was used to strangle the two girls. The cord was found around Joanne's neck."

  The time of death was estimated to be at least ten days before but the doctor said "they could have been killed shortly after they disappeared sixteen days ago." A vaginal-semen test had been run and had proven negative: neither girl had been sexually molested.

  Finally Joe asked exactly where the girls had been found. The policeman took out a map and showed him the spot indicated by a circle on the map.

  "Is that anywhere near the Silvermead Trailer Camp?" the father inquired.

  The policeman pointed to an area directly behind the circle. "Not more than a half a mile away, I'd say," the policeman estimated.

  Joe looked at his brother-in-law in amazement.

  "Did you have an a
mbulance with sirens going to pick up the girls, around four-thirty this afternoon?" Tom Barbuda asked.

  The policeman thought for a moment. "That's about right. And yes, the dude had his sirens going."

  Arrangements were made to have the bodies moved north to Colonia for burial preparations, and Joe and Tom left, both feeling numb from the experience.

  While the police departments of Woodbridge and Mana-lapan met to exchange facts and organize material, the area in which the girls were found was combed thoroughly by police and hounds. Woodbridge Police Chief Anthony O'Brien said the officials had no leads or suspects in the case.

  Francis Carlucci called Dorothy and told her that the girls had been identified in Manalapan Township, in an area very much like the one described in her vision.