Dagger Magic

McLeod displayed his warrant card again and murmured a vague apology for dropping in unannounced, and Adam took a moment to study their subject. On her feet, Claire would have been tall. She gave the impression of having been strongly built, but her frame was now more bones than flesh. Her hair was as luxuriant and dark as it had appeared in Lennox's photos, but it had been cropped brutally short in this present time. The bright blue eyes were deeply hollowed, their expression restlessly introspective.

"You won't be needing me, will you, Claire?" Ishbel asked, breaking into Adam's preoccupation. "I'm still waiting for that pesky plumber, and I don't want to miss him, in case he comes or calls."

She turned around and retreated toward the house without giving Claire a chance to object. Claire Crawford spared her sister-in-law a single, unfathomable glance, then shifted her attention back to Adam and McLeod.

"It's been months since the police last demonstrated any interest in my case," she said, speaking for the first time. "May I ask what lies behind this sudden renewed curiosity?"

"You certainly may," McLeod replied. "We're attempting to tighten up our procedures for dealing with drunk drivers. To that end, you can probably appreciate the value of our reviewing and reappraising any and all unsolved drunk-driving incidents still on the books. Since the accident involving you and your late husband constitutes one of the most glaring offenses on recent record, it seemed worthwhile for us to sit down with you yet again to review everything you can remember from the night in question."

Claire heard him out in a tight-lipped silence, her measured stare never deviating from his face.

"I don't mean to be rude, Inspector, but I've already said all I have to say on that subject. Since offering up my testimony almost a year ago now, I've been working very hard trying to put the whole affair out of my mind and start my life over again. I can't even get it out of my dreams! I hope you'll understand me when I say I see nothing to be gained from raking over old ground."

"Normally, I would be inclined to agree with you," McLeod said with gruff frankness, exchanging a glance with Adam. "That's why, in this particular instance, I've enlisted the assistance of Dr. Sinclair. Besides being a highly qualified psychiatric physician, Dr. Sinclair has had considerable training and experience as a hypnotherapist. He's helped us out in numerous cases. We were hoping you might agree to let him use hypnosis to help you remember more about the accident."

"Hypnosis?" She repeated the word in a tone of incredulity.

"You needn't feel threatened, Mrs. Crawford," Adam said. "If you know anything at all about it, you'll know that it can be an effective tool for assisting the subject to remem- her things he or she may have otherwise forgotten or overlooked."

Even as he spoke, he could sense Claire's growing resistance and see fire beginning to smolder behind her eyes. Gripping the arms of her wheelchair with taut fingers, she countered his gaze with a withering look before turning the full force of her anger on McLeod.

"Is this what passes for police work these days?" she demanded harshly. "No wonder you people haven't caught the man who murdered my husband and child! Haven't I had to put up with enough official incompetence already, without being asked to submit to this charade? If you want to play cheap stage tricks, go and do it somewhere other than here!"

The suppressed violence in her tone was nothing compared to the accompanying blast of psychic reverberations as she spun her chair away from them. Moved to wonder at the raw force of Claire Crawford's emotions, Adam mentally braced himself to withstand the rising storm, exchanging another glance with McLeod.

"I can't blame you for being skeptical, Mrs. Crawford," he said quietly. "No doubt you know your own mind. If you're so opposed to the idea, it's doubtful we would have much success anyway. Before we take our leave, however, I wonder if I might ask you to at least take a look at a few photographs - so our trip won't have been a complete waste of time."

Claire turned her head to eye him with suspicion. When he did not flinch from her gaze, she said grudgingly, "All right. Provided that afterwards you'll agree to go away and leave me in peace."

Breathing a tiny mental sigh of relief - for the concession was a foot in the door - Adam said, "Thank you. The photos are in my briefcase. Inspector, if you'd be so good as to give me a hand?"

As McLeod wordlessly complied, supporting the case from beneath, Adam tripped the catches and retrieved Lennox's brown envelope. Abstracting three of the most recent photographs, he passed them over to Claire.

"Here you are," he said casually. "I'd be obliged if you'd tell me what you think. These were taken at the scene of yesterday's accident. I'm sure you must have heard about it."