"Unfortunately, that's not the case. If it was, hypnotists would all be millionaires," Tony joked.
"Like I said, all it does is free up the stuff you've buried because it's not important."
"What do I have to do?" Harding said suspiciously.
"Just listen to my voice and follow what I tell you," Tony said.
"You'll feel a little strange, a little spaced out, but you'll be in control at all times. I use a technique called neuro-linguistic programming. It's very relaxing, I promise you."
"Do I have to lie down, or what?"
"Nothing like that. And I'm not going to wave a watch in front of you. Are you prepared to give it a try?"
Carol held her breath, watching Harding as an assortment of expressions chased each other across his face. Finally, he nodded.
"I doubt you'll be able to get me under," he said.
"I'm a man who knows his own mind. But I'm willing to try."
"OK," said Tony.
"I want you to relax. Close your eyes if it feels more comfortable. Now, I want you to go deep down inside yourself..."
Elated with their success. Tony and Carol bounced into the murder squad room. Bob Stansfield was standing by the window, staring out at the rain-drenched street below, his shoulders slumped, a cigarette burning unheeded in his hand. He glanced round and Carol called, "Cheer up, it might never happen."
Stansfield swung round and said bitterly,
"You obviously haven't heard the news."
"What news?" Carol asked, walking over to him.
"Stevie McConnell topped himself."
Carol rocked on her heels and stumbled against a desk. Her ears were ringing and she thought she was going to faint. Instinctively, Tony moved forward and steered her into a chair.
"Deep breaths, Carol.
Deep and slow," he said softly, leaning over her, staring intently at her white face.
She closed her eyes, dug her nails into her palms and obeyed.
"Sorry," Stansfield said.
"It knocked me for six too."
Carol looked up and pushed her hair away from a forehead suddenly clammy.
"What happened?"
"Apparently he took a beating yesterday. A sex-case special, by all accounts. So, this morning he tore up his shirt and hung himself. The fucking warders never noticed, on account of they're playing at work to rule," he added savagely.
"The poor bastard," Carol said.
There's going to be hell to pay," Stansfield predicted. " I'm glad it was fuck all to do with me. At least it won't be my arse in the fire.
I mean, Brandon's bombproof, so it's going to be some poor fucker of an inspector who's going to carry the can. "
Carol looked at him as if she'd like to hit him.
"Sometimes, Bob, you really fuck me off," she said coldly. "Where's Brandon?"
"Down in the HOLMES room. Probably hiding from the Chief."
They found Brandon and Dave Woolcott closeted in the inspector's cubby hole off the main room.
"We've got a positive make, sir," Carol said, her initial exuberance flattened by Stansfield's news.
"We know what car he was driving."
Penny Burgess turned off the main road on to the Forestry Commission track that led deep into the heart of the woodland. She was aiming for a car park and picnic area in the middle of the woods. It was one of her favourite spots from which to strike off through the trees and up on to the bare grit stone edges where the wind could blow away all the accumulated dross of the week. She certainly needed it after the last few days of hard graft, big stories and not enough sleep.
The record on the radio finished and the announcer said, "And now, over to the newsroom for the headlines on the hour." The news idem followed, then a woman said in a voice altogether too bright for her subject matter,
"Northern Sound news on the hour. A man who was questioned by Bradfield police in connection with the serial killings that have terrorized the city was found dead this morning in his cell at Barleigh jail."
In her shock. Penny took her foot off the accelerator and pitched forward as the car stalled.
"Shit!" she exclaimed, her hand shooting out to twist the volume higher.
"Steven McConnell is thought to have committed suicide by hanging himself with a noose made from his own clothes. McConnell, the manager of a body-building gym in the city, was arrested last week after a street brawl involving an undercover police officer in the city's gay village," the news reader continued, sounding for all the world as if she were announcing the results of the Eurovision Song Contest.
"He was released on bail, but rearrested after attempting to flee the