Margaret Truman's Experiment in Murder by Margaret Truman Page A

I can determine how best to approach your headaches. Are you ready?”
    â€œYes.”
    Borger was concerned with the amount of alcohol that Itani had consumed. Despite the common belief that hypnosis puts you to sleep, the fact is that it results in intensely focused concentration on the part of the subject, and alcohol can interfere with that. But with a perfect subject—and Borger was convinced that Itani was exactly that—its effect should be minimal.
    He picked up a gold coin from a nearby table and brought it to within inches of Itani’s eyes. “Focus on the coin, Iskander, focus carefully. As you do, allow yourself to relax and to go to a peaceful place where there is no pain. I am going to count backward from ten. When I am finished, you’ll be in that peaceful place and relaxed. Ten … nine … eight…”
    Borger had reached only seven when Itani was in a deep trance. Borger smiled. This was going to be easier than he’d thought.
    When he’d completed his countdown, he suggested that Itani’s right arm was attached to a helium balloon and would rise into the air. Itani’s arm floated up and remained outstretched.
    â€œGood,” Borger said. “Excellent.” He proceeded to suggest to Itani that his head was covered by a special helmet that was very cold, and that Itani could put on the helmet whenever he felt a headache coming on. Itani’s hand went to his head. “Do you feel the cold, Iskander?”
    â€œYes. It is very cold.”
    â€œWhenever you use the helmet, your headaches will go away. Do you understand?”
    â€œYes.”
    Borger next took a pad of paper and a pencil from the table and handed them to Itani. “I want you to start writing down everything that you’re thinking, Iskander. Think of the evil in this world and the evil people who want to hurt you and others like you. Think of those who want to keep you from boxing again, the Jews who control your life.”
    Borger waited until Itani started to write. He formed the words on the paper carefully, writing with almost perfect penmanship. “Jews must die,” he wrote. And then he wrote it again. And again. Over and over.
    â€œThat’s right, Iskander,” Borger said in his soothing, well-modulated voice. “Keep writing. Think of Israel and what it has done to you and your family, to all the families in your native country.”
    Itani continued writing, substituting “Israel” for “Jews” and saying that it must die. Borger waited silently as his subject continued his automatic writing. When Itani reached the bottom of the page, Borger took the notebook and pencil from him and said, “You’re going deeper into trance Iskander. Deeper. Deeper. Deeper.”
    Itani’s faced twisted into anger, and he clenched his fists on his lap. A low moan came from deep inside.
    â€œThat’s it, Iskander,” Borger continued. “Deeper. Deeper. People who want to help Israel must be stopped.”
    Itani’s expression of sheer rage intensified.
    â€œThese people must be stopped,” Borger said.
    â€œYes, yes,” was Itani’s response.
    â€œThey must be stopped. They must be killed to save you and your family.”
    Itani groaned.
    The session continued for another fifteen minutes, with Borger reinforcing his hate messages. It was toward the end that he mentioned presidential candidate George Mortinson.
    Itani lunged at Borger with his right fist, causing the doctor to increase the distance between them. “That’s right,” Borger said. “You must be angry at injustice. You must do something about it.”
    Borger decided to end Itani’s trance. He gently told him that he would again count backward from ten to one. “When I reach one, you will come fully awake and feel wonderful. You will have no recollection of what has happened here over the past half hour. And when I