Dorothy Allison - A Psychic Story

by A Psychic Story (lit)

  "This reward is offered by Deborah as an expression of a sense of responsibility to the community of Browns Mills and its staff of more than four hundred employees," hospital president Rubin E. Cohen said.

  The relentless search continued. Hundreds of persons were interviewed, both police and federal agents going door to door to speak to anyone and everyone. Through constant checking, the man and girl who were reported seen near the crime site were found.

  "He's clean," one investigator reported. "We've talked to him and the girl, and checked them with others on the scene. They were collecting wood for their fireplace."

  The man and girl, however, gave investigators leads to others who were on the scene that Saturday afternoon. The search for the fortyish Caucasian was redoubled, and two younger men were sought as possible suspects. Two other young women who had been in the woods that day described a nineteen or twenty-year-old man who had been near the wooded area.

  "He was standing at the side of the road, looking down at his hands," one of the women said. "He turned and looked at us for about thirty seconds, and then he took off into the woods."

  The woman described the mystery man as about five feet seven inches tall, of average build, with shoulder-length fuzzy blond hair and wearing blue jeans and a blue-plaid flannel shirt.

  Another young man reported in the area was described as sporting a Christlike beard and longish, medium-brown hair. The second man was also in his late teens, of slim build, and was said to be wearing an army jacket with the number "19" over the breast pocket.

  These descriptions were conveyed to an artist from the New Jersey State Police, and a composite drawing was made of each of the two men.

  The composites were drawn by New Jersey State Patrolman George Homa. Serafin had called in the Trenton-born patrolman whose reputation as a freehand composite artist had spread around the country.

  Most composite artists, those people who wallpaper the world with mug shots and criminal likenesses, use a special kit equipped with plastic overlays fitting any facial feature that exists in stock shapes and sizes. Homa's natural gift allows him to draw freehand and interpret the witnesses' mental picture with incredible precision, even if the perception is based on a thirty-second glance.

  The FBI released the composites to news media on March 10, hoping the public would lead them to the men. The artist's rendering of the man with the Christlike beard was identified as David Geary, who immediately became a prime suspect.

  The number of investigators working on the case grew to over one hundred, culled from the various units involved, Special Agent Louis Giovanetti, in charge of the FBI in New Jersey, termed it a "major investigation."

  All around, investigators were frustrated. A rape and murder that occurred in the middle of the day when people were out and enjoying the sun had to have been seen by someone. Detective Jim Buck, one of Serafin's men, decided that if no one locally reported seeing the murderer, maybe a psychic could help. He had just read a magazine article about a psychic in Nutley. The magazine, New Jersey's Finest, was a Patrolman's Benevolent Association publication. The article chronicled the Debbie Kline case and others that Dorothy Allison had helped resolve in the last ten years.

  Buck entered Serafin's office the morning of March 11, with coffee in hand, to discuss progress on the Hennessy case. It was at that time that he asked his superior if he'd ever worked with a psychic.

  "You nuts?" the detective exclaimed.

  "We've tried everything else," Jim Buck started.

  "Bullshit. We've got enough problems. I could just see the FBI's face if I told them we were talking to a psychic."

  Buck pursued the topic by mentioning the article he had read. In his fifteen years with the department Serafin had never heard of using a psychic. However, the fact that the patrolman's magazine had written about a psychic detective piqued his interest.

  "I've never worked with a psychic. I have no idea how valid they are," Serafin admitted. He thought to himself that the weight of the investigation was on the FBI, not on him. He was in a good position to try different avenues of investigation, if he saw fit, without reporting it to the FBI.

  That night Serafin took the magazine home and read about the Nutley psychic who had helped police and FBI from San Francisco, in the Patty Hearst case, to Munich, Germany. In the article a policeman from the Nutley police department, Salvatore Lubertazzi, was interviewed. Serafin decided he would call the detective in Nutley the next morning.

  Richard Serafin, born of Polish and English parents, was raised in the area around Pemberton Township. In his mid-thirties, Serafin enjoyed his position in the department of forty-two men, the largest police department in the county.

  "In a small department," he explains, "I've had experience with everything from family squabbles to homicides. The big-city cops are pigeonholed and seldom get beyond their specialties."

  Serafin's father was a strict disciplinarian. Serafin feels this has given him an insight into military homelife, where the father's ideas of discipline and the children's world of peer pressures and change constantly clash. Through a hard-nosed skeptic in many situations, he has learned to judge quietly, giving him an amiable way of dealing with humanity.

  In calling Nutley, the dubious detective decided to give as little information as possible. He simply told Lupo that "we have a murder case down here I'd like to discuss with Mrs. Allison." He said nothing about the age or sex of the victim.

  Lupo told him he would call Dorothy and ask her if she had time to work on another case. The Nutley detective told Serafin that she was working on several cases at the moment, that hundreds of letters requesting her attention were piled on his desk, and that he had to let her use her feelings as a guide to choosing.

  "Either way," Lupo said, "someone will call you back and let you know."

  Serafin put the phone down, noticing Ms palms were moist from nervousness. He didn't expect to hear from the psychic or Lupo. Serafin's feeling was that psychics, like astrologers, gave such general information that they could describe the world in a universal adjective.

  The detective was surprised when Detective Lubertazzi called fifteen minutes later.

  "She says she would be glad to help you," Lubertazzi said, his own voice sounding surprised. "Right away she sensed something. I don't know if this is going to mean anything to you, but she sees running water and brown uniforms."

  "How in hell can she see anything when she doesn't know a thing about the case?" Serafin asked. He figured Lubertazzi must have read something about the case in the papers and must have coached the psychic. Then again, Serafin thought, not much publicity had seeped to other parts of New Jersey.

  Lupo gave Dorothy's telephone number to Serafin and also told Serafin to call him anytime he needed an explanation of how Dorothy went about her investigations.

  "You ever worked with a psychic before?" Lupo asked.

  "Nope. Can't say I have," Serafin answered.

  Lupo laughed to himself, making Serafin wonder what he was getting himself into.

  "Tighten your seat belt," Lupo warned, "you're in for a psychic roller coaster." And he hung up.

  Serafin decided Lubertazzi had to be on the psychic's payroll. He imagined the prices she charged were steep. But curiosity had gotten the better of him, and he decided he would pursue the woman.

  He put a fresh cassette into his recording machine and dialed Dorothy's number. He told the pleasant-sounding woman that he had never worked with a psychic before, and that he had said "bullshit" to the detective who had suggested calling in a psychic. He also told her that if it were okay with her, he would record their conversations. Dorothy consented.

  "I'll ask the questions," Serafin said. "If you're right about something, I'll tell you."

  "That's fine with me," Dorothy said. "Did Lubertazzi tell you that I got something right away? Did he tell you about the running water and brown uniforms? Do they mean anything to you?"

  "Running water an
d brown uniforms?" the detective repeated. "I guess they do mean something. Our victim was found in water and on Fort Dix property. There are lots of brown uniforms around."

  "I don't get the little girl drowning," Dorothy thought out loud.

  "How did you know it was a little girl?" Serafin snapped.

  "I saw that from the beginning. That's why I told Lupo I would talk to you. I felt it was a child, and hearing your voice I got it was a little girl. That's how," Dorothy responded in kind to the nervous detective. "Also, you told Lupo it was a murder."

  "A pure murder?" Serafin tested her.

  "I don't think so. Let me think," Dorothy said and honed in on her feelings about the little girl, who was slowly evolving in her focus. "Dear God," Dorothy exclaimed. "The little thing has been sexually assaulted. Oh, that poor child and those poor parents. Do they know?"

  "Yes," Serafin said, "they know everything."

  "That she was raped vaginally, orally, and anally?" Dorothy moaned.

  Serafin was shocked by what he heard. He could not believe that this woman had given him information that had not been disclosed to the media. Only those closest to the investigation knew that Kathy Hennessy had been sodomized.

  "Mrs. Allison, did you read about this case anywhere?" Serafin inquired.

  "How could I read about it? You're in another part of the world, for all I know."

  Serafin was excited and confused. He wanted to end the conversation and think. "Do you see anything else?" he asked.

  "Yes. I think the person who did it was young, and he has an alcohol problem," Dorothy offered. "Do you have the girl's date of birth?" she asked.

  "No, not right here. I'll get it for you and call you again tomorrow. Okay?" the anxious caller said.

  "Fine with me. I should be home most of the day." And she hung up.

  Serafin turned off the recording machine and lit a cigarette. He didn't know whether to be in awe of what he had heard or suspicious. He would wait till after their second call before saying anything to anyone.

  After Dorothy had spoken to Serafin, she sat on the couch and stared in disbelief at what she was seeing of the victim's demise. A surge of emotions overwhelmed her, primarily anger and sadness. What more barbaric murder could there be than the brutal rape of a little girl? Slowly she diverted her energies as much as possible away from the horror and toward finding the murderer. She felt she could find the animal that committed the rape, and she determined she would.

  Dorothy was somewhat suspicious of Serafin, though. She had sensed his abruptness and nervousness and wondered if he was really heading the investigation. She called Lupo and asked him to check out Serafin that afternoon.

  Later that evening Lupo verified that Serafin was detective lieutenant of the force.

  "If it's a major case," Lupo conjectured, "he probably is involved."

  Dorothy knew it was a major case. She decided to call Serafin the next morning and apologize for being suspicious.

  "Suspicious of me?" Serafin laughed uncomfortably. What a bitch, he thought to himself.

  "Don't be so surprised," Dorothy challenged him. "I didn't trust you, and you obviously were feeling the same thing about me."

  They talked for a few minutes about the case. Dorothy told him that she still saw the murderer as a man in his late teens or early twenties. She reiterated that he drank a lot and added that he smoked dope. She also saw a pair of crutches or a wheelchair somewhere.

  "Someone close to either the victim or the murderer is either on crutches or in a wheelchair. You have to know that I often confuse facts regarding the murderer and the victim. So, you have to think of both."

  Dorothy took the birth date of the Pisces victim and said she wanted to think about the case a little more and that Serafin should call again at the end of the week.

  It was during their third conversation that Dorothy said the little girl's first name began with a "K" - "something like Katherine," she said.

  "What about the last name?" The now more relaxed, but obstinately skeptical Serafin pursued.

  "Her last name? Well, I get something that reminds me of a beer."

  "A beer? I don't get it," he said.

  "A beer. Yes, I know. Like that upstate beer. Gennessee beer. Her last name has double letters in it, like Gennessee."

  Serafin was again amazed. He was glad that he had everything on tape, as no one would believe him otherwise.

  By their next telephone communication Serafin was feeling comfortable with the energetic psychic. He found her sympathetic and hardworking. He was impressed with her knowledge of police work and investigative procedure. She sympathized with his having to take second straw on the case to the FBI. She knew how the bureaucracies worked and which agency had power over the other.

  At the end of their fifth talk Serafin suggested that he and the prosecutor visit Dorothy at her home and work on the case. Dorothy agreed and the following Thursday was settled upon. -

  "Could I bring you anything?" Serafin asked.

  "Yes, something that belonged to the girl. I would like to hold onto something that she either wore or liked a lot."

  Serafin agreed and said good-bye. He knew that he would have to tell the chief what he was doing, as someone would have to pay the psychic's fees. He explained to his superior what had occurred during the phone conversations he had had with the Nutley woman and that he had taped the conversations corroborating everything he had said.

  The chief was surprised and amused. Having no sense of how much a psychic would charge for investigative work, he okayed the payment of anything up to $500.

  Next Serafin went to the young parents of Kathy Hennessy and told them about his dealing with Dorothy. They had no objection, although they had no idea what could be accomplished by using a psychic. They consented to parting with some of Kathy's possessions, as long as they would be returned.

  John Hennessy and his sister-in-law had cleaned out Kathy's drawers after the funeral. The only thing they had noticed missing was a favorite necklace Kathy always wore. Her father speculated it must have fallen off the day of the murder, or been ripped from her body.

  Carol Hennessy placed into a brown paper bag Kathy's little plastic typewriter, one of her favorite toys, with her unfinished story still in the carriage; a doll's dress from Kathy's favorite doll; plus, a book and a Brownie pin.

  Serafin asked his friend Neil Forte, the prosecutor in the Burlington County Prosecutor's Office, to accompany him on his adventure to Nutley. Forte, a young dark-haired, athletically built man, thought the invitation too intriguing to refuse.

  "We'll go up in my Chevy," Serafin said. "I just had it tuned up last week."

  The two men spent most of the two hours driving to Nutley anticipating what Dorothy would be like. Both men projected images of a mysterious woman, with the usual trappings of a bizarre mystic. But Serafin's discussions with Dorothy had already proved to him that she had abilities that could only be classified as extraordinary. He was not yet willing to let go of his skepticism, however.

  Jason barked madly from the front window as a greeting to the nervous pair from southern New Jersey. Dorothy quickly led the animal into the basement and ran to the door to let in Serafin and Forte. Dressed in black slacks and a loose orange blouse, Dorothy did not suggest the looks or the spirit of a witch. The trio went into the kitchen, where Serafin set up his tape recorder and nervously watched the Italian seer as she opened packages of sweet rolls and made coffee for the men.

  The first thing the Pemberton detective brought up was the fact that he had only $500 to spend, and he could go no higher. They were amazed to hear that Dorothy would accept no payment for her work, "especially with a child like this."

  Dorothy sat down. First she took the Brownie pin Serafin handed her from the bag and held onto it for a moment while asking the men about the progress on the case. She was told they were watching several people, but that no suspects had yet been nabbed.

  "Who is Margaret?"
Dorothy asked.

  "I don't know," Serafin said.

  "She has something to do with the little girl. I feel that Margaret was in trouble. Maybe in trouble with Kathy? Does that register anything?" she asked.

  Serafin responded negatively.

  "What about Kathy's brother? Have you interrogated him?" Dorothy asked.

  "How did you know she had a brother?" the dark-haired prosecutor asked.

  "I see a little boy with the girl. That's how I know," Dorothy answered.

  Serafin handed Dorothy the dress, which he thought to be one actually worn by Kathy. Dorothy laughed.

  "This is a doll's dress, you Polish nitwit," Dorothy kidded the man. "She'd have to be pretty tiny to fit into this."