"No problem. Do you have any guns or knives or bazookas on you?"
The receptionist giggled. "'Bazookas,'" she repeated.
Nick laughed. "I'm pretty sure I left my mortars and grenades in the car."
"I need to pat you down," Jerrod said. "You'll be going into a secure area of the building."
"Go ahead. I know the drill."
Jerrod gave Nick a pat-down and found no potential weapons.
"Follow me."
"Nick," Jerrod said once they reached Investigations. "This is Ken Strahle. He's with the California Department of Justice and will be performing the polygraph examination today."
"Nice to meet you, sir," Nick said. "I'm a little nervous right now."
"Perfectly understandable," Ken said. "If you're ready, we can begin."
"Yes, sir," Nick said as Ken turned and led him to the sound-insulated interview room.
After Ken closed the small room door, Jerrod flipped a cardboard sign on the outside of the door which read:
QUIET! INTERVIEW IN PROGRESS
Jerrod, Stan, and Zippy sat down in the lieutenant's office where the entire polygraph process could both be watched and heard on a monitor sitting on a filing cabinet. The monitor was wired to a small camera placed in a corner of the ceiling inside the interview room.
Jerrod placed a fresh tape in a VHS recorder and pushed the "record" button.
The table containing the polygraph machine and its accessories was in the corner directly opposite the camera. Nick Usher had been guided to the chair next to the table with his face and upper body in direct view of the camera.
Ken, although in profile view, was fully in the frame.
"My name is Ken Strahle and I will be administering the examination today."
"Okay," Nick said.
"This examination is entirely voluntary. You do not have to be here and you can leave at any time. Do you understand?"
"Yes," Nick said as he glanced at the polygraph. "Are you going to hook-me-up now?"
"We're just going to talk first, okay," Ken said.
"Sure."
"I am going to read you an admonition, Nick. These are your Miranda Rights. Have you heard them before -- either in person or on TV."
"In person, unfortunately."
Okay. Please listen carefully. 'You have the right to remain silent... "
"Now I'm confused," Zippy said. "Ken just told Nick he was here voluntarily and isn't in custody. He can leave at any time. Right?"
"That's right," Stan said.
"So why is Ken reading him Miranda now?"
"He's getting it out of the way," Jerrod said. "If Nick fails the 'poly' or starts making admissions, his status can quickly shift from 'came here voluntarily' to 'going to prison for the rest of his life'. If that happens, Ken doesn't have to lose momentum and stop the interrogation to read 'Miranda' to him."
"Awesome," Zippy said.
Ken took a clipboard from the table and took a pen from his shirt pocket. "I'm going to ask you a series of questions, Nick."
"Okay."
"Is your full name 'Nicholas Joseph Usher?'"
"Yes, it is."
"Were you born on... ?"
In the lieutenants office, Jerrod said to Zippy, "These are the warm-up questions. He'll ask him all sorts of innocent questions -- where he lives, where he works, does he smoke cigarettes, does he like football or baseball, does he prefer McDonald's or Burger King, and stuff like that to get a feel for Nick's 'truth-telling style.'"
Zippy nodded.
"He'll also asked some questions he knows Nick will lie about, like: 'Have you ever taken any item of value from an employer without permission?' He'll say he hasn't, but everyone's done it."
Zippy raised his hands palms up and made an "I never" gesture.
"Ken'll get into aspects of the actual case later. He'll ease into it and we'll hear Nick's version again. Ken will tweak the 'design questions' as the interview goes on so they require direct 'yes or no' answers without being vague or confusing."
"Nick," Ken asked back in the interview room. "Have you taken a polygraph examination before?"
"No. Never."
"Have you taken any medication today with the intent to alter the results of the polygraph?"
Nick shook his head. "No."
"Have you studied or otherwise prepared yourself in any other way in an attempt to fool the polygraph or alter the results?"
"No."
"You can fool the polygraph?" Zippy asked no one it particular.
"Some drugs can slow a person's reactions," Stan said. "And that can help them give less of a physical response to the questions. There are some other ways -- like biting down on their tongue or clenching their rectum like their trying to hold in diarrhea -- during the innocent, or 'control' questions, in order to give false readings. Those techniques are called 'countermeasures.'"
"Wow," Zippy said.
"Ken'll be watching for any sign Nick is trying to mess with the results and will call him out on it," Stan added.
"Nick," Ken said. "You visited Walter Jelinski at his Valle Verde home on Monday. Is that correct?"
"I told that to the detectives."
"Just a 'yes or no' answer is fine."
"Okay. Sorry. Yes."
"And Mr. Jelinski was alive and well when you left him on Monday?"
"Yes."
"Nick. I've prepared a series of ten questions you'll be asked once you are connected to the polygraph. Okay?"
"Okay."
"Three of those questions are directly related to the circumstances around the death of Walter Jelinski."
"Okay," Nick said. Ken watched an "11" appear between his Nick's eyebrows.
"I'm going to read those three questions now so they aren't a surprise to you."
"Sure."
"Question One: 'Did you cause the death of Walter Jelinski?'"
"No."
"You don't have to answer right now."
"Sorry." The "11" disappeared.
"Question Two: 'Did you take any property, including cash, from the home of Walter Jelinski without permission?'"
Nick shook his head.
"Question Three: 'Did you conspire with any other person to cause the death of Walter Jelinski?'"
Nick shook his head again.
"Are you ready, Nick? Any questions?"
"Yes... uh... and... no. Ready, I mean."
Ken ripped open the Velcro closure of a blood pressure cuff similar to those seen in doctor's offices and slipped it up onto Nick's upper right arm. He secured the Velcro and adjusted the cuff slightly on his arm. He squeezed a rubber bulb to pump air into the cuff.
"Nick, this device will monitor your heart rate and blood pressure on the little needles on the polygraph." He pointed to the open polygraph case.
Nick nodded.
Ken untangled two black plastic tubes attached to chrome chains. He fastened one around Nick's chest and other around his abdomen
"They need to be a little tight," Ken said. "Those devices will record your respiratory rate."
"Okay."
He then took a black band – about one-inch wide and secured with Velcro – and placed it around Nick's right forefinger.
"This measures your 'Galvanic Skin Resistance' or, in another term, how much you sweat."
Nick nodded.
"Are you ready? Ten questions. 'Yes or no' answers only."
"Ready," Nick said.
Ken turned on the polygraph machine and a three-inch wide strip of graph paper slowly cycled under the color-coded pens of the polygraph -- each measuring Nick Usher's physical response to each of the ten questions he was about to be asked. Ken used a felt-tipped pen to add hash marks on the strip of paper prior to each question.
"Is your full name "Nicholas Joseph Usher?"
"Yes."
"Do you currently live in Valle Verde, California?"
"Yes."
"Did you cause the death of Walter Jelinski?"
"No."
After the tenth question was asked and answered, Ken turned off the polygraph, tore off the ribbon of paper, and told Nick he would be right back.
Ken walked out of the interview room and closed the door behind him. He was running the strip of polygraph paper through his hands when he was met by Jerrod, Stan, and Zippy in the hallway.
"Well?" Jerrod asked.
"I've been doing this a long time and I can tell you...,"
"And?" Stan asked.
"That's not your guy."
CHAPTER 47
"Son-of-a-bitch," Jerrod said to Stan, Zippy, and Ken as he flopped into the lieutenant's chair.
He had just escorted Nick Usher back to the lobby and thanked him for coming to Mesa for the test. It was nearly twelve-thirty.
"That guy was prime for our killer," Stan said. "He's a physically big dude, he knew our victim, did odd-jobs for cash to support himself, sleeps in his car, has a violent background, and his visit with 'ole Walter fits perfectly into the time-line."
"Ken?" Jerrod asked. "Is there any way that guy just beat the 'machine?'"
"I don't know. Sure... but not likely. The polygraph itself has its limits, but I didn't see any countermeasures being used. Some people just don't react normally to stress... and he stayed pretty cool during the whole process."
"We can't rule him out completely," Stan said. "He admitted to being the last to see Walter alive."
Jerrod had leaned back in the desk chair with his chin drooped to his chest as he listened. He raised his gaze to Stan. "Or the second to last."
"What now?" Zippy asked.
"We got nothing. Back to Square One," Jerrod said.
Before Nick Usher had even driven through the tangle of traffic on the PCH leaving Mesa, the name of Donald "Donny" Jelinski had risen back to the top of the suspect list.
"Donny couldn't have physically killed his father," Stan said. "We know that scenario is impossible."
"Maybe he had someone else do it," Jerrod suggested. "That's always been a possibility. Maybe there is another guy, other than Nick Usher, who Walter knew well enough to allow him into his house and who also had the physical strength to overpower Walter and choke him to death."
"So maybe robbery wasn't the motive," Ken said. "I'd love to get this Donny character on the 'poly.'"
"Nick gave us the names of two other guys," Jerrod said, "who drink with Donny at a Valle Verde bar. I gave those names to Linda this morning and she's probably got files ready on both of them."
"How do we prove Donny was involved?" Zippy asked. "And even if he was involved, how does he get charged with the murder if we already know he wasn't actually there?"
"You've heard of the 'Manson Family' murders in L.A. back in the late '60s?" Stan asked Zippy.
"Of course."
"Charlie Manson was convicted on multiple counts of murder for directing, coordinating, and facilitating his 'family' to kill for him."
Jerrod added, "The evidence at trial convinced the jury Manson had conspired with the others to murder based on his twisted "Helter Skelter" scheme to spark a race war between the Black and White population. In Charlie's twisted mind, he had planned to hide out in the desert and reemerge after the 'war' to rule over the victorious Black race who, he believed, would flock to him as their new leader."
Stan said, "Charlie Manson was never charged with personally killing anyone."
Jerrod looked first at Zippy and then at Stan. "Let's go talk to Donny's drinking buddies."
CHAPTER 48
Jerrod thanked Ken Strahle for his help and Stan gave him directions to the restaurant with the best seafood in Mesa.
"Let's take separate cars to Valle Verde," Jerrod suggested. "Maybe meet at the VVPD and go from there."
"Okay, good idea," Stan said. "I can leave my seatbelt off and not worry about phantom cats."
"What the hell are you guys talking about?" Zippy asked.
"Sergeant," Linda Westphal said from the doorway of the lieutenant's office. "I have a phone call on hold for you."
"Take a message, please," Jerrod said. "We were just heading back out on the Jelinski thing."
"She said it's very important," Linda said, "Her name is Natalie Segura."
"I'll take it in my office, Linda. Thank you," Jerrod said.
"Not a damn word Stan or you'll be the phantom cat and I won't touch the brakes," Jerrod said as he walked past the "oh shit" expression on Stan Walsh's face. "I only give one warning."
Jerrod closed his office door as his desk phone rang. He stared at the phone and picked up on the third ring.
"This is Jerrod."
"Hello, Jerrod. It's been a long time. It's Natalie."
"It has been a while. I heard you were back in town."
"You talked to my nurse-friend at the hospital yesterday," Natalie said. "She called me before you probably made it to the hospital lobby."
"How have you been?" Jerrod said.
"I'm okay. But my mom isn't. She's pretty sick. I came back to help take care of her."
"I'm sorry."
"My mom asks about you all the time. She said when she feels better she wants to make you some carne asada or pollo mole. She knows how much you always liked her food."
"That would be a real treat. Thank you."
"You heard I have a son. Right, Jerrod?"
"Yes... your friend filled me in."
"Come by my mom's house tonight," Natalie said. "It would make her real happy and you could meet my little boy."
"I'm working on this homicide and --''
"No excuses," she interrupted. "I get home by five-thirty. You're coming over. Period."
"Okay. Okay. I'll see you tonight."
"Is everything thing okay, Daddy," Stan asked as Jerrod walked back into the lieutenant's office.
Jerrod said nothing. He stopped directly in front of Stan, looked him straight in the eyes, placed his right hand around the grip of his Glock, and unfastened the snap on his holster with his thumb.
"Sarge. Wait," Zippy said.
"Slow down. Take it easy. I'm just kidding," Stan said as he raised the palms of his hands.
"I'm just kidding too," Jerrod said as the pinched closed the snap to secure the pistol in his holster. "Maybe."
"You guys really need some professional counseling," Zippy said.
* * *
Linda Westphal had run the two men's names Nick Usher had given on Thursday afternoon. Driver's license information. Criminal histories. Last known home addresses and work places. Vehicles registered to them. Both were friends of Donny Jelinski and both needed to be located and interviewed.
Neither, however, had a background that singled them out as a potential killer.
* * *
Jerrod picked Stan up in the parking lot of the VVPD at two o'clock.
"Which name should we check first?" Jerrod asked as he went through the files Linda had neatly organized.
Stan put down the files. "Nick said they may be at The CrowBar in the afternoon. We should try there. Sounds like you might know the way."
"Fuck you, Stan."
* * *
Located at the very end of an east side Valle Verde strip mall, The CrowBar was appropriately named. Dimly lit. Dark wooden bar. Dark tables and chairs. And, for Jerrod, a history as dark as the black bird on the sign over the door.
As Jerrod and Stan walked inside, five men and a male bartender -- all in their late-thirties or early-forties -- stopped talking and turned in unison to see who was coming into their watering hole.
Jerrod let his eyes adjusted from the sunlight. He heard Bob Seger singing "Night Moves" on the jukebox. The familiar "blip-blip-blip" sound of Mario jumping barrels from a two-player early-80s tabletop Donkey Kong game placed against a wall near the restroom door.
"Detective Jerrod Gold," the bartender announced.
"Hello, Joe," Jerrod said.
"'Joe.' Really?" Stan whispered. "As in, 'Set 'em up, Joe.' This place is
like a bad movie."
"Worse than a bad movie," Jerrod whispered back.
"Tanqueray and grapefruit... in a bucket, Jerrod?" Joe said as he reached for an over-sized ten-ounce bar glass known as a "bucket."
"Not today, Joe. We're working."
"When's the last time you were in here... last night?" Stan whispered.
"Five years ago. Nothing has changed."
Jerrod walked to the end of the bar. "I'm with the Sheriff's Office now. This is Stan Walsh. He's with the DA's Office.
"What brings you in here... if you're not going to have a drink?" Joe asked.
Jerrod directed his attention at Joe, but watched the reactions of the five men at the bar as he spoke. "Donny Jelinski's father was killed in his house earlier this week."
The second man away from Jerrod immediately moved his focus to the label of his beer bottle.
"I saw that in the paper," Joe said. "We're real sorry for Donny."
Jerrod continued. "We're looking for a couple of Donny's friends. They're 'regulars' here."
"We have lots of 'regulars,' Jerrod. You used to be one."
"That was then. Thanks for reminding me."
"What are the names?" Joe asked.
Jerrod told him the names from memory. "'Dominic Hathaway,' and 'Alan DiStefano.'"
Joe looked at the five men at the bar and shrugged. "You want me to do it?"
"I'm Dominic," the second man from Jerrod said.
"I'm Alan," the third man said.
"Can we talk to you gentlemen... privately... over at one of the tables?" Jerrod asked.
"Sure," Dominic said.
"Okay," Alan said.
Jerrod directed Dominic Hathaway at a four-top table near the Donkey Kong game.
"What do you do for a living?" Jerrod asked to break-the-ice -- but already knowing he worked for a Valle Verde produce company.
Cross Examination: The Second Jerrod Gold Novel (The Jerrod Gold Novels Book 2) Page 18