Bronx Justice by Joseph Teller Page A

prosecutor, every piece of evidence that suggests guilt, every look of disapproval from the jury box, becomes a gut-wrenching outrage. If the trial somehow ends with an acquittal, it’s no thanks to the lawyer: after all, the defendant was innocent, and the system simply worked as it was supposed to. But suppose for a moment that the trial ends with a conviction. What then? For Jaywalker, that was unthinkable; that was the stuff of nightmares.
    Which was the beauty of the polygraph, the wonderful lure of the magical thinking in which he now lost himself. It was all so simple. Darren was guilty, or he was innocent. If he was innocent, Jacob Pope would do the right thing and D.O.R. the case. And now they were about to find out.
    The little black box was going to tell them.

5
THE LITTLE BLACK BOX
    CERTIFIED
    LIE DETECTION
    INSTITUTE
    Â 
    read the sign on the door. Jaywalker rang the bell and waited, afraid he was too early. Eventually a shadow appeared beyond the frosted glass and the door swung open.
    â€œMr. Jaywalker?”
    â€œYes.”
    â€œCome on in. I’m Gene Sandusky.”
    Sandusky was Dick Arledge’s assistant. He was young, meticulously groomed, and polished. His black hair was precisely combed to cover a bald spot that vanity prevented him from yielding to.
    While they waited for Darren to arrive, Sandusky and Jaywalker went over the facts of the case in detail. Sandusky drew up releases from liability that Darren would have to sign. He explained the procedure that he would be following in this particular case: picking one ofthe rapes and concentrating on it. He would compose his test questions after beginning his interview of Darren, and sprinkle in some control questions. Jaywalker could observe the test if he wanted to, but because his presence might interfere with Darren’s concentration, he would have to do so through a special mirror from another room, without Darren’s knowledge. To this day, Jaywalker can’t remember if Sandusky referred to it as a two-way or a one-way mirror, and has no idea which term is correct. But he got the idea.
    Darren showed up promptly at 9:30 a.m., accompanied by his cousin Delroid. Jaywalker was glad to see Darren was still following his instructions to have another adult with him at all times. He introduced them to Sandusky.
    â€œPl-pl-pl-pleased to meet you,” Darren managed to say.
    Jaywalker wondered if the stutter was a bad omen.
    Leaving Delroid in the waiting area, Jaywalker and Darren followed Sandusky to a small conference room. There they spent ten minutes on preliminaries—the payment of the fee, the executing of the releases and a discussion of the case in general terms. Then Sandusky announced that Jaywalker would have to leave. Jaywalker rose, shook hands with Darren, wished him luck and said he would call him later. He felt a little bit as though he were abandoning him. He didn’t know what Darren felt.
    Sandusky led Jaywalker out of the room, then out of the office altogether. Once in the corridor, he unlocked a second door and ushered Jaywalker into a small room, closing the door behind them. The room was dark, the only light coming through a two-way—or perhaps a one-way—mirror, which looked into the testing room. The glass was adornedwith shelves on the other side, which in turn held small figurines, in order to give the test subject the impression that the mirror was purely decorative. The testing room itself was also small. It contained only a table, a couple of straight-backed chairs and the polygraph machine.
    Sandusky motioned to a chair directly in front of the glass, and while Jaywalker seated himself, Sandusky adjusted the knobs on some audio equipment.
    â€œKeep the lights off,” he cautioned, “and try to make as little noise as possible. And don’t smoke. A match or even a lit cigarette can be seen from the other side. Okay?”
    â€œOkay.”
    Sandusky closed the door