Bronx Justice by Joseph Teller Read Free Book Online Page B

comparisons—were then, and continue to be, inadmissible at trial. The rule that excludes them is a sound one. Controlled studies have demonstrated their accuracy rate to be anywhere from fifty to ninety percent. Even a ninety-percent certainty leaves much to be desired in a system that prides itself on requiring proof of guilt beyond a reasonable doubt before there can be a conviction. As for a fifty-percent accuracy rate, that’s the equivalent of a coin toss.
    That said, polygraphs can still be useful tools. For one thing, it’s always interesting, and occasionally quite revealing, to watch a suspect’s reaction to the suggestion that he submit to a test, particularly when he’s been told that the test is guaranteed to reveal deception. Some suspects will hem and haw, make up excuses, or even admit their guilt at that point. Jaywalker had tried the tactic several times already with Darren, warning him that failure would bring disaster. Each time, Darren had, without flinching, reaffirmed his eagerness to take the test.
    Secondly, the exam by its nature includes an in-depth interview of the subject, something that law enforcement personnel are always eager to conduct. Many a suspect hasbeen coaxed or tricked into a revealing admission during the interview, occasionally even into an outright confession.
    Finally, whatever its intrinsic worth or evidentiary value, a favorable polygraph result becomes something to hang one’s hat on. A defense lawyer will leak it to a newspaper reporter; a prosecutor will cite it as a reason to recommend dismissal of a case; and a judge will refer to it in granting that dismissal.
    Hypocrisy? Junk science elevated to mainstream thinking? Perhaps. But Jaywalker wasn’t going to let such philosophical considerations deter him. Jacob Pope had offered them a way out, and they were going to do their best to take advantage of it.
    Over the next few days, Jaywalker asked around about polygraph operators and came up with a handful of names. The one he kept hearing was Dick Arledge, a man who taught and trained other examiners, and who’d refined the technology to the point of developing and designing his own machines. Jaywalker called his office, set up an appointment, and notified Darren of the date and time, and the fee he would have to bring. He also phoned the district attorney’s office and learned that they’d scheduled their exam for early December. That was good; it gave the defense ample time to get their own test done and evaluate the results.
    Jaywalker didn’t bother telling either Pope or Detective Paulson, the polygraphist he’d chosen, that he was having Darren examined on his own. Just as Marlin had hedged his bet by opting for the private test, so was Jaywalker hedging by his silence. That way, if Darren were to pass, great; he would go into the D.A.’s test more confident than ever. And if he were to flunk, they could always pullout of the second one. “I’ve done a little checking,” he could always tell Pope. “I never knew how unreliable these things are. We’ll take our chances at trial.”
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    Looking back later, Jaywalker would come to realize that the week waiting for that first exam was a strange time, an interlude during which he fantasized that his role in the case was drawing to an end. In spite of everything he knew about polygraphs and their shortcomings, he gradually put that knowledge aside. Instead, he began to engage in a bit of magical thinking. He became convinced that the test would solve everything. After all, this wasn’t a case involving nuances. There was no claim of self-defense, for example, or of an innocent mistake; there were no state-of-mind issues to be debated. No, Darren was either completely innocent or he was just as completely guilty. Now a little black box with a bunch of wires attached to it was going to tell them, for once and for all.
    Which made it only natural to