Carmen screams again, more like a sob. The dummy stares at her. Whoever had left it had left themselves, she had heard them go. Hadn’t she? She can’t turn on the light. She’s close enough she can peer through the window to the rest of the fire escape, which is empty. Slowly, she unlocks the window. She might still be able to see whoever left it departing. Carmen’s upper body leans out, creating a mirror to the mannequin. There is no one on the ladder, above or below. Some deep instinct causes her to push away at the dummy, push it through the railing, and it falls in a heap to the ground a dozen feet down. She hears an exclamation from somewhere down the street, someone walking who had seen it fall.

Closing the window quickly and locking it, Carmen, groping around in the dark, throws on some clothes, finds her phone, her purse, and for some unthinking reason also grabs Kierk’s notebook. She opens the door slowly after staring through the peephole and listens. The hall is quiet. She descends the stairs, then is out the door, down the steps, and Carmen flees up the street and into the city. She’s headed to the most populated area she can think of near her. Turning onto First Avenue, Carmen’s already on the phone with the police.

“You can come down to the station to report it. Or we can go to your apartment. It sounds like maybe it was a prank, ma’am.”

“It was a death threat! And I’m not at my apartment!”

“Was there someone there inside the apartment?”

“No, they were probably outside.”

“What did they look like?”

“I didn’t see them. They called me.”

“What did they say?”

“They didn’t say anything!”

“So they called you but they didn’t say anything?”

“Look, they left a lobotomized store dummy. Do you even understand what that means? That’s a threat.”

“Maybe. There’s a lot of college students in your area and it’s a weekend. Lots of dumb tricks happen. Why don’t you come down to the station and file a report. Keep in mind that it may take a few hours for the paperwork. But unless you have any further information I’m afraid all we can do is get a record of the event. I’m just being honest with you about how this is going to go.”

“Fuck you!”