Death Trance by Graham Masterton Page A

nodded and then without any embarrassment, he took Randolph's hand and held it.
    'Something's happened to Marmie. Is Marmie hurt?’ Dr Ambara nodded again, and Randolph was intrigued to see that there were tears running down his cheeks. 'I have to tell you that your wife is dead. Also that all your children are dead.’
    The shark fumed to the surface and Randolph was face-to-face with its rows of snarling teeth. He felt fear, desperation, desolation, panic and - most of all - unutterable grief. He was unable to speak.
    In a quiet voice, Dr Ambara went on. They were found in your cabin in Quebec. There was no chance of saving them. They were beyond help.’
    Tears poured from Randolph's eyes in a hot, unquenchable stream and he clutched Dr Ambara's hand.
    The doctor said, 'I am sorry to tell you that they were murdered. Somebody broke into the cabin and killed them. It was a very bad event.’
    Randolph swallowed and managed to ask, 'Did they suffer? Did any of them suffer?’
    'I would be lying to you if I said no,’ Dr Ambara replied. Randolph crumpled and sobbed uncontrollably. Nonetheless he managed to say, 'You must tell me what happened.’
    'I can tell you only what the police have explained,’ Dr Ambara said.
    'All the same, tell me.’
    'I have to warn you that it was a very unpleasant scene.’ 'Tell me. I'm going to have to find out sometime.’ Dr Ambara released Randolph's hand and went over to the window. He parted the blinds and looked southwest towards the distant lights of the Stroh Brewery and Memphis International Airport. Planes circled in the night like fireflies. Dr Ambara watched them for a while and Randolph waited with patience. Apart from the fact that he was still sedated and therefore calmer than he normally would have been, he was prepared to believe that Dr Ambara himself was deeply upset by what had happened and that for this reason, the man could share in his grief.
    At last, without looking from the window, Dr Ambara said, 'It was late last night as far as the police can tell. Three or four men broke into the cabin. One of them broke down the door with an axe and then used that same axe to kill your younger son, Mark.’
    'Mark,’ Randolph whispered, hoping to God he wasn't going mad.
    'After that,’ Dr Ambara went on, 'they shot and killed your older son, John, with a shotgun.’
    Randolph was too grief-stricken to even pronounce John's name. Tears began to slide out of his eyes again and he had to clench his teeth to prevent himself from crying out loud.
    Dr Ambara turned away from the window at last and said, 'I am telling you this because you have to know and the sooner you know, the better it is going to be. Your mind will have enough to cope with without constantly wondering what has happened and why everybody is being so solicitous to you.’
    Randolph wept and nodded. He had not cried like this since his mother had died. He couldn't speak any more. He lay back on the pillow and waited for Dr Ambara to tell him the worst.
    'Your wife and your daughter were tied up. The police say that they were raped several times. Then they were hung with barbed wire from a beam in the living room. The police said they must have suffered but not for very long.’
    Dr Ambara bent over Randolph and wiped the tears from his eyes with a tissue. His face was sympathetic and infinitely understanding. He studied Randolph for a moment and then explained to him with great gentleness, 'I have told you because you have to know. It was a terrible tragedy, and everybody in the clinic feels for you deeply. They have pain in their hearts for you that they cannot express.’
    He sat down and added, 'You must understand that I am your doctor, that I am here to make you better and to overcome your misery. Whatever you want to know, I will tell you. Whenever you want to talk, I will talk with you. This is a shattering event that you will have to think about and talk about over and over again. You will always ask