Death Trance

by R. D. Zimmerman

  I scurried over, wedged my fingers under its metal frame, pried it open, and was assaulted by a gust of warm air surging from the house. Not wasting a minute, I descended into the house, one foot on the old ladder, another. I sank inside, paused, listened. Then heard the doorbell ring. Shit. How polite a killer.

  I scrambled the rest of the way down the ladder, and was soon standing in that big room where I'd lain in trance, where I'd relived Toni's last few days. I dusted my hands, started for the door that led into the main staircase. Stopped. No. I couldn't go that way, couldn't plunge down through the center of the house, the staircase wide open. I'd be spotted in an instant.

  Suddenly, oddly, it was horribly black. I looked up at the dome, which was no longer glowing. What had happened? Of course. Welcome to Maddy's house. Welcome to her world. She always had some sort of plan, part of which now obviously meant shutting off the electricity. The dark was her only advantage.

  I tore through the door that led into the rear of the attic. Found myself in absolute blackness. Stumbled over chairs. A lamp. Endless crud. I pushed past it all. Lunged on. There was the rear staircase, a steep one that led into the servants’ rear hall. I found those steps, skidded, nearly tumbled down and around, and burst through another door at the bottom. I stopped on the second floor, and in the weakest of light, spotted a series of doors, turned and saw another landing. I bolted toward that, hung on to a huge oak railing, came around a corner, and saw a straight expanse of stairs jutting before me.

  I started running. Then slowed. Couldn't make any noise. No. Had to be quiet. But still had to be fast. Absolutely. Quickly made my way down, then stopped at the bottom. The elevator was up ahead. Open? Yes, I could tell the gate was pushed up, which meant Maddy was down here, somewhere on the main floor. The kitchen was up and off to the left, the pantry up and to the right.

  There was a door to my right. I gently reached for the handle, turned it. Pushed. Towering over me I could make out the huge head of an animal. A moosehead. Then that of an antelope. This was the billiard room, and I stepped into it, one quiet foot, another, dead animals peering down on me with glassy eyes. The entry hall was just ahead, up there on the right, on the other side of the billiard table and through that large opening.

  I took a step, froze. Behind me I heard something creak. I turned slightly, heard it again. Was that just the shifting of an old house or could it have been the faint, very slight groan of wood beneath a foot? Was someone back there in the kitchen, perhaps even the rear hall? Could Toni's murderer possibly have made it that quickly to the rear of the house?

  From the front hall, a man's deep voice called out, “Maddy? Maddy, are you here? It's me.”

  My sister replied, “Welcome to the world of the blind. I'm in here, to your right and ahead a few steps.”

  Shit. Who was it and what was Maddy doing, drawing him, coaxing him toward her?

  I heard floorboards creaking, heard him start to move. What could I do? He'd certainly have a gun. And so would Maddy. I knew it just then. She'd have a gun, rely on her hearing, fire at him blindly. Oh, Jesus. Oh, Maddy. To my left I saw a rack of long, tall things. Pool cues. Big, heavy Victorian pool cues. I reached for one, lifted it down.

  “Thanks for the invite. It was wonderful to hear from you,” he said. “What service, too. Private plane, water taxi. And this place—wow.”

  I recognized that voice, and froze in shock. But how? How could they know each other, my sister and this man? I cautiously moved around the billiard table, step after step, and saw him standing in the dark, pausing on the edge of the living room.

  “Are you on wood or carpet?” called Maddy from somewhere in the living room.

  “Ah, wood.”

  “Then push your toe forward until you feel carpet. Go on. Feel it?”

  “Maddy, I—”

  “Do you feel the carpet?” she demanded.

  “Yes.”

  “Good, now take four steps forward, two to the left. There's a big chair, a very comfortable one.”

  “But—”

  “No buts. Just do as I say. This is my island, my house, my world. You can be blind just a little bit. It won't hurt. Now go to that chair and sit down.”

  No, Maddy. No, I thought, begged. She was going to get him in place. Put him in a calculated spot. Then gun him down. I crept into the front hall, the big front door off to my right, the Tiffany dome somewhere high overhead.

  I heard some steps, some movement, and in response, Maddy said, “Go on, sit down.”

  There was rustling, shifting, and the voice said, “Okay, I'm sitting.”

  “Comfortable?”

  “Yes.”

  “Good. If you lift your right hand you'll feel a table. On that table is a small snifter of cognac. Your favorite kind—Remy Martin. You see, it's been a long time, but I haven't forgotten. When things get a little fuzzy, I do a trance and then I remember it all. It comes back wonderfully clear.”

  He hesitated, then asked, “How'd you find me?”

  “I saw an article on you, and my little brother helped, too.”

  My heart twisted. I'd thought Maddy had been helping me, but had she merely been using me instead? Had she been conniving, figuring on this right from the start? Was that why she'd invited me here?

  “How's that?” he asked.

  “Well, you've met him actually.”

  “Really? Are you serious? What's his name?”

  “Alex.”

  “Alex? No, I—”

  “He was a very close friend of someone who was murdered. You knew her, too. Toni Domingo.”

  A definite pause, then, “What—”

  There was nothing but silence floating from the living room, and I halted, didn't take a step, couldn't alert them. I was halfway across the entry hall, nearly at the large arch into the living room.

  “Maddy, what are you talking about? What's this all about?”

  “I think you know.”

  “I came here to visit you, not play games.”

  “Oh, come on now.” Maddy's voice was low and slow, and obviously she was having difficulty controlling it. “I loved you so very, very much.”

  “I loved you, too. You knew that.”

  “Then why'd you never come visit me in the hospital? Why'd you leave Chicago without even saying goodbye?”

  He hesitated, started, stopped, then said, “It's a long story, but I had to. A wonderful job opportunity came up. Please… forgive me.”

  Suddenly my sister burst out shouting, “You can goddam rot in hell, you bastard! I know why you left, I know who you were fucking!”

  Rustling, movement, someone getting up, and then Maddy screamed, “Sit down or I'll blow your head off!”

  “Maddy—”

  A blast. A huge explosion. A pistol that fired a bullet through the living room and into a wall not far in front of me.

  “Don't test me!” shouted my determined sister.”I know exactly where you are. If you move again I'll shoot. I might not get you with the first shot, but definitely the next one.”

  “It's okay, it's okay. I'm here, right in the chair. No need to get excited,” coaxed the smooth and professionally soothing voice.

  Maddy half-shouted, “You were screwing one of your patients the whole time we were dating, weren't you?”

  “Maddy, please.”

  “This shot's going just over your head, into the ceiling right above you.” There was a blast, another huge one, and Maddy quickly demanded, “Well, weren't you?”

  By his shaking voice I could tell that the shot had hit the ceiling, probably sprinkled him with plaster, and he said, “All right, yes. That's right. I know I shouldn't have. But it happened. Then I met you and—”

  “That was why you left so quickly. I didn't know it then. No one told me. I don't know if that was part of your agreement—that they wouldn't tell anyone—or if the others in our office just didn't have the guts to tell me. But that's why you left so quickly, wasn't it, Ed?”


  “Yes. They told me if I left the state, they'd keep it quiet.”

  I made it to the edge of the living room, stood frozen, billiard cue in hand. It made perfect sense. Maddy and Ed Dawson. Both shrinks. Working in the same office in the Loop. So he was my big sister's one and only love. Mr. Wonderful turned awful.

  “That's right,” continued Maddy. “I didn't know until last night. I called Bonnie. Do you remember her, she did family therapy? She knew, and I forced her to tell me. Goddam you!”

  Another shot, exploding, whistling, shattering into something. Then another. I shrank back. She had no idea I was there and if I moved into the living room at all, one of those bullets would probably hit me instead of him.

  “They told me you went to California and took over a clinic.”

  “I did.”

  Maddy was crying, her voice unsteady, halting. “But then a couple of years ago I read about your appointment to the executive council of the APO. Congratulations, quite the achievement. I've read your book, too, the one you edited. It was very good, actually. What, did you sell your California clinic for a bundle and decide next you wanted fame?”

  “Actually I wanted to do less administration and more therapy.”

  “Sure, so you moved back to your hometown, Minneapolis, and started a nice little practice.” She hesitated, added, “I wanted to come up, I wanted to see you. I didn't, though.”

  “You were always so proud.”

  “Yes, and always in love with you. I've thought of you every day. Every goddamned day I've thought of you and your touch on my body. You gave me something extraordinary. You were the only man I ever slept with, did I ever tell you that? But then the accident. I'll never be able to feel anything down there again, so all I have is the memory of you inside me. I didn't understand why you left me back then, why you cut things off so abruptly. I thought it was because I was paralyzed, that the idea of such an awfully handicapped person as me drove you away!”

  “Maddy, no. That's not right. I've… I've loved you, too. Really, I have.”

  “Don't say that! Do you hear me?” Another shot. “Don't ever say that again!”

  “It's okay,” came the trained voice from the darkness. “It's okay.”

  “I loved you and I thought you were the most wonderful person in the world, even after you left me I thought that. I did. That's why when Toni's baby sister needed a therapist in Minneapolis… well, I recommended you. Liz didn't know I knew you. I just gave your name to Toni, and she set it up. But then you started fucking her, too, didn't you? You were Liz's other boyfriend, weren't you?”

  “Maddy, you don't understand. Liz was in trouble. She was involved with a terrible guy who was trying to get her into this… this cult. I had to get her away from him. It took a lot of coaxing, a lot of nurturing, and then one day she broke down and ended up in my arms. It just happened, I didn't mean for it to, really I didn't.”

  “But you're a professional, Ed, one of the best! You're supposed to know how to handle countertransference, you're supposed to know the limits! She was at your mercy!” Maddy stopped, fell into several deep sobs. “Do you remember how you used to take me driving on the beach at night, how you'd drive along the edge of the water and make it splash everywhere?”

  “Sure.”

  “It was so wonderful. Such a sense of freedom.” She took a deep breath, wiping her eyes perhaps, then caught her breath. “You had a car just like a friend of mine. Hers was a Dodge Raider. I knew it by touch, which was why yours was so familiar to me. Only a Raider is the American version of a Japanese car, and you had the Japanese one, didn't you? And you still have it, don't you?”

  “Yes, a Mitsubishi Montero.”

  “A black one?”

  “Right.”

  I stood there, knowing, understanding. Of course. In trance, in age regression, Maddy had made me carefully scout the street in front of my apartment building, and I'd seen a vehicle of some sort. I'd thought it might be black, couldn't tell much more except I'd seen MITSUBISHI emblazoned across the grille. That was what had tipped Maddy off. That was why she broke off the trance last night. She thought it might be Ed's car, so she ended the trance, returned to her room as quickly as possible, called that other therapist from work, and learned that Ed Dawson had been thrown out of their practice for sleeping with a client. I'd known it was something like that. Maddy wouldn't cry over lost money. Right, she'd figured it out, had stayed up late, plotted how to get Dawson here, probably had him flown on a private jet.

  “I know it all, Ed. I do,” continued my sister. “That note of Liz's, the one she wrote about not being able to go on—she was talking about you two. She wanted to end it, your affair, not her life. She was stronger than you thought, healthier than you believed. And I wonder if Liz wasn't planning to write an article, not about that cult, but about patients who fall victims to their therapists! In any case, I'm sure she wouldn't have kept quiet. That wasn't like Liz.”

  “Maddy, no, you've—”

  “You've always been ambitious, Ed, and you killed her to keep her from ruining your career, and then Chris, too, you killed her because she'd seen you two together! And Toni—she told you she was meeting with Tyler, so you called and left that message for Jenkins and—”

  “Stop it!”

  I heard him jump to his feet, heard heavy steps.

  “Ed, no! Sit down!”

  “Go ahead, fire.”

  “I will!”

  Then came a blast, a shot. It reverberated through the room, the house. I edged around the corner. Dawson was standing there. I saw his dark shape trembling, shaking.

  “You missed.” He forced a laugh. “And I do believe that was six shots.”

  From across the room I heard a gun click. Then another click of an empty gun. And now Dawson was charging across the room. I jumped forward.

  Shouted: “Don't you dare touch her, Dawson!”

  In the shadows of the room I saw him stop, saw him turn around. For a terrible instant all of us were frozen, Maddy, him, and me.

  “Alex, no!” shouted my sister. “Get out of here!”

  Dawson reached into his coat, pulled out something, hit a button. A glinting switchblade popped into the night.

  “Maddy, he's got a knife!”

  I charged into the room, ran around that chair, right toward him, and swung the pool cue back, whipped it around, smashed him and cracked it right in half. I'd never known myself to be so strong. He stumbled slightly, then held out the knife, lunged at me, but missed. Pulling back, he raised his arm, readied himself to attack again.

  Suddenly a strange voice called out, “I wouldn't move if I were you, asshole!”

  Dawson and I stood rigid. I looked toward my sister, who sat several yards away in her wheelchair. Clearly, it hadn't been her, and my eyes raced past her, scoured the room, then saw a dark, vaguely familiar shape emerging from the dining room, gun in hand. So I'd been correct. There had been someone else in the house.

  A woman demanded, “End of game. Put down the knife, Dawson!”

  He moved slightly, studied her, said, “Who the hell are—”

  “A lady with a bad attitude. I'd advise you to do as I say.”

  I knew immediately who it was. Same long hair, same tall figure. I was about to say something, to call out to her, but then things started happening much too quickly. Dawson would never have given himself up. Maddy obviously knew that, for as soon as he began lunging toward her, knife poised to stab her, my sister shouted to me.

  “Get out of the way, Alex! Drop!”

  My instinct was to go to her side, to try to protect her, but I knew that warning tone and I knew, too, that Maddy would never let herself get caught. She wasn't the sort. So I heeded her, dove forward, landed on the floor.

  And then, when Dawson was only feet from her, Maddy screamed, “Laura!”

  Toni's widowed partner hesitated not an instant. I saw a blast. Orange and red. A brilliant, violent snap. Then another. That w
as all it took. It was over that quickly. Quite dead, Toni's killer toppled and hit the living room floor.

  Epilogue

  Afterward—after we'd called the mainland, after the police had come and taken statements from us all, after the body had been removed and the house cleaned—I spent another week on my sister's island. So did Laura.

  I walked the paths of Madeline's island, strolled the beaches. I found two Petoskey stones, some green sand-worn glass, and a small piece of driftwood that at the time seemed utterly remarkable. A month or so later when I picked up the newspaper and read that they'd finally pinned the murder of those four Minneapolis women on two alleged Dragon members, I pulled out the piece of wood. Staring at it, I couldn't recall why I'd picked it up at all. I still have it, though. Probably always will.

  We talked a lot, the three of us. I was still a bit angry at Maddy for her secrecy. To borrow her shrink terms, she acknowledged that, accepted that. And then we had a few good laughs. I made her promise never to address me as Little Brother again.

  Laura, I learned, had arrived on the island the day before I did, brought there by Maddy in case my trance had failed to reveal Toni's killer. A sort of backup subject who might be mined for information. Maddy had purposely kept Laura and me separated so as not to influence my trance—Laura had spent those days hidden in the servants’ quarters—but after all the commotion was over, Laura and I spoke freely and at great length about Toni. Maddy chimed in, too. We spoke of Toni's struggle to be honest with herself and the world, her beauty, and what a good doctor she'd been.