Free To Die in Beverly Hills by Gerald Petievich Page B

replied.
     
    ****
     
    FIVE
     
    IT WAS the middle of the day and the tall palms that lined Coventry Circle Avenue swayed gently west. The sky was uncommonly azure-the heraldic, smogless Southern California blue of tourist postcards and movie sets.
    Emil Kreuzer steered his Mercedes-Benz sedan off Coventry Circle Avenue and into a semicircle driveway leading to a two-story home. The juniper bushes guarding the spotless driveway were shaped into perfect globes and the manicured expanse of lawn was money green. He parked the sedan in front of the house and climbed out. Having put on a suit coat, he straightened his necktie, then headed toward the mansion's main entrance. At the door, he used a door knocker that was a brass W.
    A frail, middle-aged woman with slack jowls answered the door. Her hair was pulled back at the temples and she wore an abundance of rouge that seemed to match the color of her dress, and a string of pearls.
    "Good morning, Mrs. Wallace," Kreuzer said using his German accent. He noticed brown age-spots on her forehead, even under the layer of makeup.
    She motioned him in. "I'm glad you didn't come early. My husband just left to go on location. He'll be in Spain directing a Western. He wanted me to go, but I hate hotel rooms and not being able to say what I want in my own language."
    Kreuzer stepped in and she closed the door. He followed her through a hallway decorated with impressionist art into the living room. Was the watercolor nearest the door a Degas?
    "Arthur is so anti-everything," she said. "If I would have told him I had retained you for hypnotherapy he would have come unglued. My husband is from the old school I'm afraid. To him, hypnosis is equated with voodoo."
    "This is understandable," Kreuzer said sympathetically.
    The living room was a striking combination of pink satin, glass and oil paintings of flowers in vases. The floor was covered by an immaculate sea of white shag carpeting. Mrs. Wallace sat down on a sofa, while Kreuzer chose a chair. "I detect an accent," she said. "Is it German?"
    Kreuzer nodded. "I received my doctorate at the University of Berlin." He recognized an oil painting on the wall behind her as a Gauguin.
    "I've heard so much about you from my friends at the club. Both Ivy and Harriet told me they haven't had an urge for a cigarette since their first session with you. My doctor has been literally begging me to stop smoking." She picked up a gold cigarette case off the coffee table. It was thin and her initials were inlaid in rows of tiny diamonds. "This is a birthday present from my husband. It holds ten cigarettes and it has a time lock. It can be opened only every hour and a half. It was supposed to limit me to ten cigarettes a day, but I can't help cheating. I've tried millions of times to quit and nothing has worked." She folded her arms.
    "At the end of our session you will feel pleasant, more relaxed than you have in a long, long time, and you will no longer have the desire to smoke cigarettes," Kreuzer said. His tone was authoritative.
    "I have a couple of questions."
    "Of course. Everyone has questions about hypnosis. It's only natural."
    "I know that you appear in the nightclub acts. I've heard that in your stage act, audience volunteers sometimes are made to act foolish..."
    "You will do nothing under hypnosis that you wouldn't do in the waking state," Kreuzer said in a reassuring manner. "And I promise not to suggest any stage behavior to you. I am here to simply cure you of your smoking habit. I consider you my patient and you should trust me as you would any doctor."
    "What happens if I go into a trance and don't wake up? Could I get stuck asleep?"
    "That question is the one I'm most frequently asked," Kreuzer said patiently. He folded his hands. "The answer is that no one has ever been stuck in hypnosis. The state of hypnosis is nothing more than a state of deep relaxation. It's similar to the way you feet at night just before you fall asleep. It is a