by Jim Wygant
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By the time Jennifer Steinmetz reached the age of 16 she had already attended several drug and alcohol rehabilitation programs. She was also sexually promiscuous, at least in the eyes of her parents. Her father, Dr. Fred Steinmetz, believed Jennifer had been forcibly raped in the eighth grade by two boys she’d had consensual sex with separately on earlier occasions. At the age of 16 she spent much of her time with her 19-year-old unemployed boyfriend. Her parents assumed that Jennifer was having sex with the boy, but there seemed to be little they could do to prevent it. It had become more and more difficult to control the activities of their only child. She wanted to move in with the boyfriend. The parents responded by trying to restrict all contact with him. It didn’t work. She ran away from home and moved into the boyfriend’s apartment. The parents sent word that if she did not return promptly they would report her as a runaway and have her picked up by juvenile authorities.
When Jennifer’s friends asked her why she had moved out of her home, she told them that her father had abused her, although she gave no details. The boyfriend asked her why she appeared troubled and she gave him the same evasive answers that implicated her father in some form of mistreatment, yet undescribed. The boyfriend urged her to talk with a teacher or counselor at school. A few days later she did approach a teacher she trusted. Jennifer asked, “If someone told you something, would you have to report it?” The teacher told her it would depend on what was said. Jennifer walked away.
Later, two different interpretations were put on that question. The prosecutor characterized it as indicative of Jennifer’s reluctance to reveal herself as a victim of sexual abuse. The defense suggested she was testing the water, simply gauging how much trouble might be stirred up by a false claim.
The teacher Jennifer had approached sought her out a day or so later and urged her to confide. Jennifer said that her father had sexually abused her. The teacher called the police.
A police detective and a State social worker tried to find Jennifer at her high school. When that failed they finally located her at a fast food restaurant with several of her friends. The detective asked Jennifer if he could speak with her. She requested that it be in private, so the detective and the social worker walked with her to the detective’s car nearby. When she was settled in the car, Jennifer became extremely upset. She began crying and curled into a fetal position in the back seat. After she regained her composure she told the two adults that her father had “fucked” her.
Although most police officers are well acquainted with the word “fuck”, this officer was surprised at Jennifer’s unhesitating use of that terminology. He was also unsure that the teenager understood exactly what the word described. He asked her what it meant to her. She gave a graphic description of sexual intercourse. She told how her father would creep into her room at night and have her give him “blow jobs” and then “fuck” her. She said that these incidents had occurred numerous times and that the first sexual contact had occurred around the age of 10, when he directed her to masturbate him. All of the activity had always occurred in her room, never anywhere else.
Sitting there in the police car, she told the officer and the social worker that her father had not molested her for two months. She said that she had asked him – for the first time – to stop having sexual contact with her, and he did. Shortly after that she ran away.
The last paragraph of the social worker’s report made casual reference to something about Jennifer that might have contained a hint of what was to come. Although Jennifer had been “very cooperative” she was also “adamant about not wanting to get her father in trouble.” She expressed additional concerns about her mother’s mental health if the complaint were to become known.
Review of those initial reports reveals a girl whose complaint only took shape at the insistence of a teacher and the police. By itself that is not unusual, since many valid complaints of sexual abuse have been uncovered by the same perseverance. Jennifer’s explanation that her father stopped when she asked him to and that the sexual contact was no longer a problem is a little unusual, but not by itself incredible. Even Jennifer’s reluctance to cause trouble for her parents is not remarkable. But all those factors together should probably have roused at least a smidgen of skepticism. There was none. Jennifer’s complaint enjoyed unrestrained acceptance.
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Dr. Fred Steinmetz was a 51-year-old general practitioner with a devoted stable of patients. He was held in high regard by his fellow doctors, who envied his unflappable manner and his sense of humor. When the police told him that his daughter had accused him of having oral and vaginal sex with her, he responded without hesitation, “It’s a lie.” Not being a fool, he also hired an attorney, who arranged for him to undergo a polygraph examination with a private examiner. That examiner, who formerly worked for the Oregon State Police, concluded that Dr. Steinmetz was telling the truth when he denied all sexual contact with his daughter.
The deputy district attorney, the same one assigned to school teacher Darrell Mitchell, requested the Steinmetz charts. The examiner sent her his originals and the defense attorney waited for some word. None came. When he inquired, the deputy D.A. first told him that the polygraph test had been rejected for some unspecified reason by the police examiner who reviewed it. The D.A. was prepared to indict. The anxious defense attorney called the examiner identified as doing the review. He said he had never been asked to review the test. The deputy D.A. then acknowledged that she had given the charts to the investigating detective and he had lost them before they could be reviewed. The result was that there were no longer any charts available to support the conclusion of the examiner who had found indications of truthfulness. By then it was too late anyway. An indictment charging several felonies was soon issued against the doctor and he was arrested.
Word spread quickly among the doctor’s patients and medical colleagues. Letters began to arrive at the District Attorney’s office, insisting that it was not possible that this man had sexually molested his only child. The D.A.’s office ignored the letters. Character references were a notoriously unreliable means of settling guilt or innocence.
The law firm remembered that the test I had recently done on teacher Darrell Mitchell had resulted in dismissal of charges. Since the same deputy D.A. was assigned to Steinmetz, the defense attorney reasoned that she might give more regard to my test results than those of some other examiner. I thought the opposite. She’d had to give up one high profile case because of me, and she might be determined not to let that happen again. I spent several years as an investigator in a D.A.’s office. I know how competitive some prosecutors can become.
At the time I met Dr. Steinmetz he was free on bail. We did the examination in his attorney’s office. As usual, I spent about an hour talking with the client before we actually began the test. I quickly understood the inspiration for the supportive letters to the D.A.’s office. Even in the face of a felony prosecution that could destroy his medical career, Dr. Steinmetz was calm and reflective and in reasonably good humor. I detected no traces of bitterness against his daughter, but rather sympathy for her. He suggested that she had fabricated a story that she intended only for her friends as a justification for leaving home and moving in with her boyfriend. But the tale had gotten away from her and become so bloated with lies and legal action that she was afraid to recant. It wasn’t the first time I had heard that hypothesis, but that did not mean it was false.
I used a standard test format with Dr. Steinmetz. We carefully discussed all of the questions, modifying them as necessary to arrive at the absolute answers of “yes” and “no” required in the test. The doctor unhesitatingly accepted my proposed questions about Jennifer without any modification. I told him that I would ask:
Did you ever have Jennifer put her mouth on your penis?
Did you ever have sexual intercourse with Jennifer?
In Jennifer’s room, did you ever engage in deliberate sexual contac
t with her?
Those are customary questions, simple and direct. Most examiners would say that those questions are not subject to the kind of rationalizing that might permit a liar to appear to be telling the truth. Unexpectedly that criticism was raised later by another examiner.
I ran three charts, going through all ten questions three separate times while the instrument perpetuated Dr. Steinmetz’s reactions in black and red ink. Each chart took about four minutes because of the pauses inserted after each answer. In between charts I allowed Dr. Steinmetz to rest for about a minute.
I have tested several doctors and nurses. When I examine their charts I am alert for the same countermeasures I would search for on the charts of a drug user or dealer. I recall one doctor who was so loaded that he could barely walk. His charts were a mess and the test result was officially inconclusive, although I assumed his blatant attempt at countermeasures indicated he was lying. When I looked at Dr. Steinmetz’s charts I saw strong, clear, consistent responses, showing none of the characteristic effects of drugs. More importantly, the charts indisputably indicated truthfulness.
The doctor regarded those results calmly, as though he’d never had any doubt. His attorney was delighted.
Two days later a report of my examination was in the defense attorney’s hands. He quickly forwarded a copy to the deputy D.A. It is unclear what she did with that report, since neither she nor the police examiner she consulted had reputations for being entirely forthcoming. We do know that she asked the police examiner to test Dr. Steinmetz again, although I assume her request followed upon the advice of that examiner. This would be the third test on the same issue. Most police examiners would have declined, explaining that a third test was a waste of time unless there was some fatal error in one or both of the earlier tests. This examiner scheduled his test without conferring with the two examiners who had already tested Dr. Steinmetz.
When the defense attorney told me that his client was going in for a third test, I phoned the police examiner. I told him that I was mailing copies of my charts, which no one had ever asked for. I also told him what the test questions had been, but it was obvious that he had already heard them from the deputy D.A. He remarked about the three issue questions, “I sure hope he wasn’t able to rationalize those.” I thought he might be joking. I learned later from another examiner that this police examiner had developed some unorthodox theories, not held by anyone else in the profession, and that he routinely rejected tests by other examiners.
In any event, the retest went fine. Dr. Steinmetz was not going to flunk anybody’s polygraph test. It was just that simple.
That might have been the end of the case, but it wasn’t. The deputy D.A. was not satisfied. Perhaps she was still smarting from the Darrell Mitchell case. For whatever reason, she suggested that Jennifer, who had recently turned 17, take her own polygraph test to prove her truthfulness. In that regard the deputy D.A. was on thin ice, possibly ignorant of a State law that restricted a D.A.’s use of polygraph with alleged victims. The law prohibited a D.A. from declining prosecution for either of two reasons associated with polygraph. First, the D.A. could not refuse to proceed because an alleged victim refused to take a polygraph test. Second, if the victim did take a polygraph exam and produced results indicating lying, the D.A. could not refuse prosecution based solely upon those test results.
The police polygraph examiner, too, was undertaking something that most examiners try to avoid, a test on an alleged victim. There are a number of persuasive arguments that lead examiners to regard victim tests as significantly different from those on suspects. If the victim is telling the truth, questions that force recollection of a traumatic event may produce reactions that lead to a false result indicating lying. If the victim is actually lying, the strength of issue is weak. An alleged victim does not have as much at risk from unfavorable polygraph results as a suspect, and weak strength of issue is regarded by examiners as a possible contributor to errors.
A date was scheduled for Jennifer’s test. She arrived and spoke briefly with the examiner. Then she refused the test and left.
The deputy D.A. caved in. She dismissed the pending felony charges against Dr. Steinmetz.
I learned about these last few events – the refused test and the dismissal of the charges – from the doctor himself. He called me one day to thank me, an extraordinary occurrence. It had been weeks since I’d done anything on the case and I did not at first remember who he was. As Dr. Steinmetz spoke I quickly placed him. He asked if it would be possible to obtain a copy of his polygraph charts to show his medical colleagues. I generally decline requests for copies of charts, just as doctors don’t usually give their patients copies of X-rays. I told him I might send a partial chart. After I hung up the phone, I thought about his request some more. That afternoon I copied all of his charts and mailed them to him, with a letter saying only that I had reconsidered his request. Somebody owed this guy something, even if it was just some scraps of paper covered with wiggly lines.
12. Dangerous Men
Because I work with people who have been accused of crimes, I have been asked if I ever feel that I am at risk. The answer is yes, but seldom.
Most people I see for tests are on their best behavior, whether they have come to my office or I go to them in jail. There is no source of conflict between us. Even after I have disclosed the test results, the most common reaction to bad news is resignation.
I have sat within reaching distance of more than a hundred persons accused or suspected of murder. Some cases involved unspeakably brutal killings. I have also tested men who had not actually killed anyone but had attacked and injured others. I believe that little besides fate and the serendipitous recovery of a victim separated them from most murderers. After testing thousands of different kinds of people charged with almost every imaginable kind of offense, I remember only two who worried me so much that I know I will never forget them. And only one of those caused me fear about my own safety.
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I had read the story in the newspaper before I was called about Dan Cooperman. A police officer in a small town on the outskirts of Portland had begun chasing Cooperman’s car for a traffic offense. Cooperman sped away, attempting to lose the pursuing police car. The police officer used his radio to alert other city and county police cars, which converged on the area. As a deputy sheriff closed the distance to Cooperman’s speeding vehicle, Cooperman decided to try to escape on foot. He slammed on the brakes and jumped out of his car. The deputy did the same and rushed up to Cooperman, grappling with him on the ground.
It only lasted a few seconds. Cooperman got up and ran away, leaving the deputy lying seriously injured with a knife wound. When other officers were informed of this by radio, they intensified their search. Cooperman was captured a short time later without further injuries to anyone.
Cooperman said he had not stabbed the officer. He claimed that the officer must have pulled a knife during the scuffle and accidentally stabbed himself. It was a highly improbable story, but when a man is accused of the attempted murder of a police officer, and a multitude of other associated charges, his attorney is apt to explore all avenues of defense. I was asked to test Cooperman on the issue of whether or not he had stabbed the deputy.
I tested him in a rural County Jail, a relatively new facility at that time. The “attorney interview rooms” opened onto the jail booking area, a broad hallway terminated by a heavy door that blocked access to the public lobby. The interview rooms were only a little larger than a closet, approximately 5 feet wide and 8 feet deep. They were outfitted with two chairs and a small stainless steel table that was fastened securely to one wall and the floor. The only other adornment was a blackened metal ash tray. The door had a small window for jailers to peek in. I was locked into one of these rooms with Dan Cooperman for his polygraph test.
Although this encounter was many years ago, I can still remember the discomfort I felt, more than from anyone else I have ever tes
ted. Cooperman’s eyes drilled into me. His expression was a fearsome combination of hate and indifference. I kept waiting for some ordinary response from him as I gave him an explanation of what we would be doing. I got nothing. He did not nod any acknowledgement as I spoke; he did not comment; he did not make any gestures or exhibit any mannerisms that betrayed anything about how he felt. Nothing. Just that relentless stare.
I began to wonder how quickly a jailer could get the door unlocked and get this man off of me if he attacked. I wondered also about the damage he might do to my polygraph instrument, which would cost several thousand dollars to replace.
This went way beyond the kind of control games attempted by some persons I test. I’ve had many people try to maintain an unusual degree of eye contact, probably because they had heard somewhere that breaking eye contact revealed guilt. Hostility is also not unique, although it is seldom directed toward me and quickly dissipates during the conversation that precedes the test. What I was getting from Dan Cooperman was nothing like I have gotten from anyone else I have ever tested. This man appeared to be seething with violence, not the least diminished by the fact that he was already in jail.
I focused on the mechanics of what I needed to do to conduct a valid polygraph test. We progressed to the portion of the pretest interview at which I suggest test questions. There was none of the usual examiner-client exchange. I had to resort to direct inquiry. “Do you understand that question?” “What will your answer be in the test?”