Dagger Magic

"Not at all," Adam said, before McLeod could reply. "I think that's a very good idea. But would you close your eyes for a moment first, please? I think you may have gone a little into trance there, and I want to make sure you're fully back to waking consciousness. It's perfectly normal," he added with a smile, at Peterson's delayed look of startled surprise. "Happens quite frequently."

"But I - "

"Close your eyes, Alec," Adam commanded, leaning forward without warning to lay his hand across the artist's brow. "Don't fight it; just relax and let that breath all the way out. That's right," he added, dropping his hand as Peterson subsided without resistance - indication that, indeed, he had been in trance and still was. "You're perfectly fine, and nothing happened at all out of the ordinary. There's nothing frightening about hypnotic regression; it's simply a tool like any other. Between your efforts and Claire's, we may well bring our man to justice. You've both done very well. You can take pride in your work. It was very well done, indeed."

He cast a cautionary glance at McLeod as he went on, sitting back in his chair.

' Take another deep breath now, and let it all the way out. And when I count backward from five to one, on one, you'll come back to normal waking consciousness, feeling fine, with what happened here just a little hazy - which is just the way you want it to be. And five… four… three… two… and one. Open your eyes now, Alec, and have a nice stretch. You might like to go on down to the hospital cafe and wait there for Inspector McLeod, have that cup of coffee."

"Aye, I'll join you in a bit," McLeod added, on cue, as Peterson's eyes fluttered open and he heaved a heavy sigh. "Dr. Sinclair and I have one or two points yet to clear up, but it shouldn't take long. Just leave the sketch pad here for now. I'll bring it when I come down. And congratulations; you did a nice piece of work." "Thank you, sir."

Without demur, Peterson packed up his art satchel and took himself off, clearly relieved to be going. As the door closed behind him, Adam murmured with a wry smile, "I do believe we gave Mr. Peterson a fright."

McLeod allowed himself a dour chuckle. "Well, he isn't a Peregrine Lovat, but he did all right, didn't he? And we can hardly blame him for getting the wind up. I dare say this kind of thing would raise my hackles, too, if I'd never seen anything like it before - and it did, as I recall." "It did," Adam agreed with a smile. "In any case," McLeod went on, "I'll take Alec's sketch and get Donald to fax copies to all and sundry. It won't necessarily guarantee that our hit-and-run driver will be picked up, but it'll certainly help reactivate the search."

"It will that," Adam said. "In the meantime, there's still the question of Carnage Corridor. This should make the difference, break the dream cycle, but before I bring Claire fully out of trance, I'd like to find out if seeing that driver's face has made any difference in her outlook - and if it hasn't, see what can be done about it."

Claire Crawford was sitting as Adam had left her, eyes closed and head slightly bowed, her hands at rest in her lap. Lightly touching her left wrist, he said, "Claire, it's Dr. Sinclair again. I have one last task for you, before we bring today's session to a close. Now that you've given us a description of the man who ran you down, I'd like you to study his likeness and tell me what you make of him. I'd like you to try and imagine what you would say to him if you were to find yourself face to face with him in this room. Open your eyes and look at the picture of him. Use that as your focus, and tell me what you see."

He put the sketch pad in her hands as she opened her eyes. For long seconds she stared at the likeness in front of her with silent, penetrating intensity. Then all at once she uttered a small gasp and rocked back in her chair.

"Dear God, I think I - I touched him!" she breathed agitatedly. "It was just for an instant, but I - actually came into contact with him - the man who killed my husband! The man who crippled me!"

McLeod glanced at Adam, suppressing a startled exclamation, but Adam was already leaning forward, setting a hand on her wrist again.

"I understand," he said quietly, his voice betraying none of his own rising excitement. "Please go on."

Claire took a gulp of breath, her words tumbling over one another in her excitement, but still focused, still deep in trance.

"So very strange," she murmured. "What his name might be, I still don't know. All the same, for a second or two it was as if I was - inside his head! I could see what he was like - knew exactly what he was feeling - "

"Describe your impressions," Adam prompted, as she broke off with a shudder.

The sound of his voice seemed to steady her. "He's younger than he looks," she whispered. "And smart - so smart, he used to think there wasn't anything he couldn't do. He was ambitious… wanted to get ahead in the world…."