Secrets, Lies & Alibis

by Patricia H. Rushford

  “I just wanted to get this over with.”

  “The polygraph?”

  “That’s what you wanted me to come for, right?”

  “Right.” Mac led him up the stairs. “Come on up, Gordon; she’s all set up for you.”

  “She?” Gordon glanced back at Mac as they ascended the stairs. “You mean a broad is going to do this thing?”

  “Detective Thomas will administer the test. She’s a licensed polygraph examiner. Not just anyone can run those things. It takes quite a bit of advanced training.”

  “Cool.”

  Mac introduced Gordon to Eric, and within a few minutes they had introduced him to Melissa and seated him in the small office where Melissa had set up her equipment. Although Mac had arranged numerous polygraph tests during his tenure in the child abuse unit, he had never actually sat in during an exam. He was especially curious about Gordon, however, so he asked if he could observe. Neither Gordon nor Melissa had an objection, so after Kevin excused himself, Mac picked a spot in the back and leaned against the wall.

  “Have you ever taken a polygraph examination, Gordon?”

  “No.” His gaze drifted over the unit. “I remember seeing it on television, though. Some dude was hooked up to a machine with wires and another machine that looked like the kind they use to measure earthquakes.”

  “They used to be like that. We don’t use as many electrodes. I just place a few on your arms and put this strap around your chest.”

  Melissa held up three wires. “These lead from my laptop to some very sensitive devices. When I ask you questions, these devices measure physical responses like your heart rate, breathing, and other biorhythms.”

  “Whatever.” Gordon glanced at Mac then back to Melissa.

  “Before we start, I need to clarify something with you. I understand you have not been charged with any crime and you are here today on your own free will.”

  “Yeah, I guess so. I don’t think these guys will leave me alone until I take the thing, so I decided to get it over with.”

  “You realize that you don’t have to go through with the exam.”

  Gordon held his hands up in mock surrender. “I got it. I’m here on my own free will. Let’s get on with this. I have to get to work.”

  Melissa scratched some notes on her legal pad. “All right then.

  I know you are not in custody, but I always advise test subjects of their Miranda warning before I administer the test.”

  Gordon nodded.

  “It is my duty as a police officer to inform you of the following,” Melissa read from a prepared form. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to talk to an attorney before any questioning if you wish. If you cannot afford to hire an attorney, one will be appointed to you without any cost, if you wish. Do you understand these rights I have explained to you?”

  Melissa looked up at Gordon, who nodded his head in the affirmative. “I need a verbal response for my record, Gordon.”

  He sighed. “Yes, I understand my rights.”

  “Having these rights in mind, do you still wish to proceed with the polygraph examination?”

  “Yes,” Gordon answered.

  Melissa wrote his verbatim response on the form. “Please sign the form to acknowledge you understood your rights and waive them at this time.” She turned the form around and handed a pen to Gordon, who signed and dated it.

  “Before I hook you up, I want to ask a few more questions. Have you taken any unlawful narcotics or alcohol in the past twenty-four hours?”

  “No.”

  “How about any prescription medication?”

  “I take Paxil twice a day.”

  “What’s the Paxil for and what is the dose?”

  “My shrink has me on ten milligrams a day.”

  “And the reason for the medication?” Melissa asked again.

  “Doc says I have recurrent major depression with schizoid traits.” Gordon grimaced. “I think it’s bull, if you ask me. I’m not supposed to drink alcohol, which is just plain stupid.”

  You’re the one who’s stupid. Mac bit his lower lip to keep from showing his disgust. And what was this Paxil business? Gordon had told them he was on Zoloft. Mac wondered if Eric had sent a crew out to Gordon’s place and what they’d find.

  “Have you been taking your medication on a regular basis?” Melissa asked.

  Gordon shifted uncomfortably. “Why is this so important?”

  “Because certain medications and drugs could affect the examination. I have to document the use of substances before the test is administered.”

  Gordon picked something off his jeans. “I’ve been pretty good about it the last few days.”

  Melissa wrote some additional notes on her tablet then removed a loose sheet from the back of a binder. “These are the three relevant questions the detectives would like me to ask you, Gordon. They are the questions I will be scoring you on, or actually the computer will.

  I’ll ask you baseline questions, which I assume will get truthful answers, before asking you these relevant questions for scoring.”

  She handed Gordon the questions.

  “You mean I get to see them first?”

  “It isn’t a pop quiz.” She smiled. “Look them over and tell me if you object to any of them.”

  Melissa studied Gordon for an initial reaction while he looked them over. “I’m okay with them.” He handed the paper back to Melissa.

  She then attached the sensitive equipment to Gordon’s right wrist and index finger with one wire. She attached a second wire to a Velcro harness around his left bicep. A third measuring instrument was wrapped around his chest to measure his breaths. “These aren’t made for comfort,” Melissa said with a slight grin as she secured the wires.

  “No kidding. I feel like I’m in the electric chair already.”

  “Okay, we’ll begin with the baseline questions first. What is your name?” She posed her fingers above her laptop and typed as he answered.

  “Gordon Dean Reed.”

  “In what month were you born?”

  “June.” Gordon straightened, looking more uncomfortable.

  “Good. Here’s a relevant question. Do you know the whereabouts of Megan Tyson’s engagement ring?”

  “No, I don’t.” He licked his lips and glanced furtively at Mac.

  “Do you know how Megan Tyson died?”

  “No.”

  Mac watched the screen while the machine measured Gordon’s bodily functions on a colored chart. “Now, the last relevant: Did you kill Megan Tyson?”

  “No way, lady. I didn’t hurt her.” Gordon’s Adam’s apple shifted up and down as he looked at the machine then at Melissa.

  “All right. Here are a couple more baseline questions. What is your mother’s first name?”

  “Margaret.”

  She asked a couple more family questions, then said, “You did fine, Gordon. I’m going to repeat those questions twice more before scoring your responses. Are you okay with that?”

  “Yeah, go ahead.” Gordon examined the fingernails on his left hand.

  Melissa asked the same questions twice more in the same order. Once she was finished, she removed the polygraph equipment from Gordon’s body. “How do you think you’ll score on the test?”

  “Okay, I hope. Unless you guys are trying to frame me or something.” “I can assure you, that’s not the case. We don’t operate that way. It will take awhile for the machine to score your responses. Do you want to use the restroom while I’m completing the test?”

  “I could use a smoke.” Gordon pulled his cigarettes from his shirt pocket.

  “That would be fine.” Melissa opened the door.

  Kevin was standing in the hall as Gordon, Melissa, and Mac walked out. “All done?”

  “I am,” Melissa answered. “Mr. Reed is going to take a smoke break if you and Mac don’t mind.”

  “S
ure, Gordon, help yourself.” Kevin stepped aside to let Gordon by.

  He walked straight ahead without making eye contact, placing a cigarette in his mouth as he passed.

  “We’ll come and get you in a few minutes, Gordon. You can wait in the lobby after your smoke break,” Kevin called after him.

  When he’d gone, Kevin asked Melissa how it went. “Did you crack him?”

  “The poly is still scoring the examination. It takes a few minutes, but it’s better than the old days when I had to do it by hand.”

  “Do you have a gut feeling?” Kevin pushed the wires aside and seated himself in the chair Gordon had just vacated.

  “I’ve got some concerns about the medication he’s taking.

  Gordon is on Paxil, which is an antidepressant medication. His doctor reportedly diagnosed him with major depression and schizoid behavior. You may want to contact his therapist. He was hard to read. Even though he answered the questions in a matterof-fact way, he never made direct eye contact. Seemed almost paranoid that we were out to get him.”

  “He told us he was on Zoloft,” Mac said.

  “He may be on others as well.” Kevin acknowledged the comment. “Some of these guys have several different doctors prescribing different drugs. Then you add their recreational drugs and alcohol.” Kevin shook his head. “You gotta wonder how they live through it. Of course, some of them don’t. By the way, Mac, we have a unit out at Gordon’s place as we speak.”

  Melissa studied the computer screen, which showed a lot of up-and-down lines Mac couldn’t decipher. Mac folded his arms, willing himself to breathe normally. Gordon was hiding something. He didn’t trust the guy and had a feeling the polygraph would indicate that he’d been lying about Megan.

  “Shoot.” Melissa frowned and typed something in.

  “What?” Kevin stood and bent down to look at the screen.

  “The test is inconclusive. That’s what I was afraid of. It’s probably skewed because of the meds.”

  “Or the alcohol,” Mac muttered. “I’ll bet he ignored our advice to lay off.”

  “What were his scores on the relevant questions?” Kevin squinted at the computer screen.

  “As you know, an answer doesn’t score a deceptive response unless it’s beyond a negative three from the baseline scale on nonrelevant questions. On the flip side, an answer doesn’t score a truthful response unless it’s beyond a positive three from the baseline. Gordon’s answers to the relevant questions are all positive ones or twos. No, wait. He actually had a dip below the baseline on one of the relevant questions, but nowhere near the area where I would rule it a deceptive response.”

  “Should we run the test again?” Mac asked.

  “No, that would be a waste of time. A personality disorder coupled with high-powered medication would probably give us the same result time after time. His responses are leaning toward truthful, if I had to make a professional guess on his chart in addition to his demeanor when asked the questions. I’m still going to reflect the test as an inconclusive examination for reporting purposes.”

  Kevin straightened. “Well, thanks for trying.”

  “Sure. I wish we could be more precise sometimes.”

  “Can I get you some coffee or tea?”

  Melissa rubbed the back of her neck. “No thanks. I’ll get my own—I need to stretch a bit before the next victim comes in.”

  Kevin and Eric headed back into the briefing room. Eric glanced up at them. “How did it go?”

  “Inconclusive,” Kevin answered.

  “What now?” Mac asked. “We can’t just let the guy go.”

  “We won’t, believe me.” To Eric he said, “Mac and I are going to have a talk with Mr. Reed while we still have him—if we still have him.” He frowned. “Did we turn up anything on the search of Reed’s premises?”

  “No surprises so far,” Eric said. “The place is pretty seedy and there’s a stash of marijuana. We’ll have the narcotics unit deal with him on that. I’m told he has an interesting array of prescription medications as well.”

  “I’ll bet.” Kevin nodded. “Do me a favor, would you, Eric? See if you can contact Megan’s sister, Cindy. I’d like to have her take the box.”

  “Sure, pal.”

  “Have Philly and Russ checked in yet?”

  “They called. They’re on their way out to pick up Brandon King.”

  “Good.”

  Melissa walked in with a cup of coffee in one hand and a folder in the other. “Here’s a printout of the test. I’ll get the complete report to you tomorrow.”

  Eric took it from her. “Thanks.”

  “Now, brief me about the other subjects we have coming in.” She settled into a chair and crossed one slender leg over the other.

  Kevin went through the list and added, “We can keep the questions basically the same with the rest of the folks we parade in here today.” Turning to Mac, he said, “Let’s get Reed; he’s probably making the front desk receptionist a little nervous by now.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Gordon Reed was waiting in the lobby, reading the sports section of the paper.

  “You want to come up and have a chat, Gordon?” Kevin asked.

  “Do I have a choice?” Gordon folded the newspaper over in his hands.

  “Of course,” Kevin said.

  “Well then, I’d just love to.” He dropped the newspaper on the seat beside him and slowly got to his feet.

  The detectives led him back upstairs and into an unused office. Kevin flipped on the lights and offered Gordon a seat near the door. Mac sat down behind the desk while Kevin slid a third chair up within inches of the guy’s knees.

  Obviously disturbed by Kevin’s closeness, Gordon leaned back in his chair and placed his hands on his thighs.

  “So, what did you think of the test, Gordon?” Kevin moved even closer.

  “I don’t know. Okay I guess.” His gaze darted to the door, then over to Mac, then to his hands.

  “Gordon, you’ve been telling us that you had nothing to do Megan’s death. What if I said I didn’t believe you?”

  Gordon made a squeaky sound. “Why don’t you guys believe me? I talked to you. I came in and took the test.” He looked at the door, panic rising in his eyes. “What did that test say?”

  “What do you think the test said?”

  “I don’t know, but I told the truth. Why don’t you believe me?”

  Gordon slumped in the chair.

  Kevin moved even closer. “I didn’t exactly say I didn’t believe you. I was just wondering what you would say if I said that I didn’t believe you. I’ll say it straight out this time, Gordon.”

  Kevin placed both of his big hands on Gordon’s shoulders.

  When Gordon finally raised his gaze to meet his, Kevin asked, “Did you kill Megan?”

  “No!” Gordon pushed Kevin’s hands away and looked toward the door again, tears welling up in his eyes. “I knew this was going to be a setup. You guys can’t keep me here.”

  “You were jealous because Megan had a new boyfriend and was getting married. Isn’t that right?” Kevin placed his hands on the guy’s narrow shoulders again.

  “No. You got it all wrong. We were just . . .” He batted at a tear rolling down his cheek.

  “You can tell me how it was, Gordon.” Kevin persisted. “I know what it’s like to have a gal come on to you and then drop you just like that. She was a flirt, wasn’t she? And she led you on, right?”

  He sniffed. “Well, yeah, but . . . a guy doesn’t kill a girl for something like that.”

  “What would cause a guy to kill a girl, then?”

  “I don’t know.” Gordon’s tears had evaporated, and anger replaced the fearful look in his eyes. “Look, I liked the broad a lot.

  She screwed around with my heart, but I didn’t kill her.” Gordon shrugged off Kevin’s hands. “Now back off and don’t ask me that stuff again. I didn’t kill her.”

  Kevin slid back on the wheels
of his chair. “Okay, Mr. Reed, settle down.”

  Gordon leaned back in his chair, glaring at Kevin.

  Unfazed by Gordon’s response, Kevin leveled a steady gaze on him. “Where were you the night of Tuesday, August thirteenth?”

  Gordon groaned. “Man, I can’t remember that far back. Probably at Murphy’s Tavern with the guys from work. Like I told you, several of us go there after our shift.”

  Kevin made a mental note to have Russ and Philly check Gordon’s alibi. Hopefully one of the construction workers would remember whether Gordon was at the bar that night—or not.

  “Are you going to tell me how that stupid test went or what?” Gordon said. “If it said I was a liar, then it’s more screwed up than the two of you.”

  “The test was actually inconclusive, Gordon, probably because of the medication you’re taking.”

  “Well, I told the truth. I don’t know what else I can say.” Gordon sat up straighter in the chair. “I knew you were trying to frame me. Do I need to call a lawyer?”

  “Maybe you need a lawyer; I don’t know, Gordon. As to framing you, we wouldn’t do that. We’re just asking the questions that need to be asked. You had intimate contact with the victim within a day or two of her death. You had your emotions rejected because she chose another man over you. Now, if you were in our shoes, wouldn’t you take a hard look at someone like yourself?”

  “Yeah, whatever. I . . . I guess so,” he stammered. “I just need a break right now. You guys can call me later if you need to. I’ll cooperate. I just need a break.”

  “The door’s right there, pal. You are free to go.” Kevin moved his sports jacket back and checked his pager, then turned back to Gordon. “We appreciate your coming.”

  Gordon reached for his cigarettes as he walked out of the room.

  “See him out, will you, Mac? I need to make a call.”

  After making sure Gordon had left the building, Mac made his way back to the room where they’d questioned him.

  “Wow. That was quite an interview,” Mac said. “I thought the two of you were going to be sharing the same chair.”

  Kevin nodded. “I intentionally pushed him. He’s wound up pretty tight, so I hoped he’d give in if I pushed hard enough. He actually held up pretty well.”