Faye Kellerman - The Burnt House

It had been a while since Decker had witnessed a polygraph. Gone were the days of paper-loading, needle-dancing analog machines. These days polygraphs were digital, and as Sheila asked her questions, she regarded a laptop monitor, clicking on the keyboard at various intervals. The actual test didn’t take long. When it was over, she unhooked Holmes from the straps and the cuffs and the galvanometers. Meticulously, she gathered up her equipment as Holmes eyed her silently, dabbing his face with a sodden handkerchief. When she was a step out of the doorway, the contractor couldn’t contain himself. He blurted out the obvious question.

“How’d I do?”

Sheila smiled beatifically and said that she’d be back in a moment and asked if she could get him anything. Holmes opted for a cup of coffee and a croissant.

DECKER, MARGE, AND PD Grant Begosian were still staring at Holmes behind the one-way mirror, marveling at the production of the man’s sweat glands, when Sheila stepped into the interview room. The three of them raised their eyes in unison, directing their expectant gazes at the FP. Decker said, “How’d he do?”

She said, “You’ll just have to wait a moment. I don’t want to be precipitous in my conclusions.”

They waited as Sheila booted up her laptop and zeroed in on the polygraph. Her facial expressions were unreadable as she examined her data. She seemed to be perfectly comfortable working in silence as three people scrutinized her every movement. Eventually she sat back in her chair and looked up from the monitor.

“It is my opinion that Mr. Holmes was not being deceitful.”

Marge made a face. “He passed?”

“It is not a graded examination, Sergeant; it is a measurement of four involuntary physiological processes. I can’t vouch for the man’s credibility. All I can say is that from the measurements of his blood pressure, his heart rate, his respiratory rate, and his GSR, Mr. Holmes seems to have answered my questions in a nondeceitful manner.”

“On all ten questions,” Decker said.

Sheila smiled. “On nine questions actually. The only question that indicated a hint of deception-I’d have to rank it as inconclusive-was when I asked him if his name was Raymond Holmes. That’s not unusual. The first question, being as it is the first question, sometimes produces a surge of anxiety as measured by the physiological indicators no matter how much we try to put the examinee at ease.”

“Thank you very much, Mrs. Aronowitz.” Decker tried out a smile. “If Holmes is telling the truth, that’s good to know. We’ll direct our energies elsewhere.”

Deputy PD Begosian said, “Thank you for coming on such short notice.” The lawyer turned to Marge and Decker.

“My pleasure.” Sheila took out a piece of paper. “Who do I bill?”

Decker took the invoice and handed her his card. “I’ll take care of it. Call me if you have a problem and thank you.”

“In case you should need my services again.” She handed everyone a business card. As soon as Sheila left, the PD said, “Do you want to tell him the news or should I?”

Decker regarded Begosian, who looked way younger than his own daughter. He was too thin, too fresh, and too boyish for legal gravitas, but they all look that way in the beginning. If he stuck around long enough, he’d grow into the position. “I’d like to tell Mr. Holmes the good news, if that’s okay with you. I want to make sure there are no hard feelings. I may need him later on.”

“Be my guest.”

The two detectives entered the interview room, where Holmes was pacing nervously. “You can relax, sir,” Decker said. “I think we’re finally done.”

The contractor stopped treading the concrete. “Done as in done with the interview or done as in done harassing me.”

“The polygraph indicates that you haven’t been deceitful.” Decker held out his hand. “I really appreciate your total cooperation and I thank you again for your time.”

Holmes gave the gesture some thought, then wiped his right palm against his pants and shook hands. “I suppose you were only doing your job.”

“Yes, sir, that is the truth.” Marge offered her hand as well.

Holmes shook hands with her as well. “Then we’re done.”

“Absolutely,” Decker said. “You’re free to go and I promise not to call you unless I have a specific question in mind.”

“What does that mean?”

“You did know the woman,” Decker said. “Maybe I could call you for some help…some insight.”

“As far as I’m concerned, I’ve helped you as much as I can,” Holmes told him.

“I’m sure you’re right. Good-bye and good luck.”

Holmes looked at Decker with agitated eyes. “What does that mean? Good luck?”

“Take it easy, sir.” Decker smiled. “I was referring to your house. Good luck with your construction.”

“Oh…okay. Thanks.” Holmes tried to return the smile but failed. “And good luck to you with Roseanne and the case. I mean that.” He dabbed his forehead with a tissue. “But don’t bother me again. I mean that, too.”

With that, Holmes left the room; he elected to slam the door shut.

THE EXTRA DAY in San Jose gave Marge and Will Barnes another night together. Although the two lovebirds extended a dinner invitation to him, Decker politely declined, anxious to get home. He wanted to take a taxi to the airport, to be alone and think, but Barnes insisted on acting as chauffeur. As he drove to San Jose International, the two lovebirds spent the majority of the ride talking about what restaurant they wanted to go to. Decker zoned out, emptying his mind, which wasn’t hard. In his present state of maximum fatigue, it seemed impossible for him to will up a conscious thought. He fought sleep, deciding to succumb on the plane ride back to L.A.

When they pulled up to the curb of passenger loading and unloading, Marge got out with him. “What now, Loo?”

“For me, a hot dinner and a hot shower sound like a plan.”

“What’s our next step with Roseanne?”

“I haven’t gotten that far.”

“I should talk to Ivan again,” Marge told him. “We know he lied about the time of the fight. He said it was in the afternoon and we know that Roseanne left L.A. in the late morning. I say we ask him about it, using the approach that we’re just trying to button down a couple of details and there’s been a little inconsistency, blah, blah.”

“Great.”

“I’ll have Oliver call him tonight to set something up.”

“Do you want to bring him into the station house for questioning?”

“I think we’d get more information if we came to him.”

“Set it up and let me know.” Decker rubbed his eyes. “Have you finished checking off the names of your tenant list for the Seacrest apartment?”

“I’ve done a little over half.”

“I’ve done about sixty to seventy percent. Let’s all finish up with that within the next couple of days.”

“I’ll make it a priority.”

Decker gave her a thumbs-up sign. “Have a great time.”

Marge smiled. “He’s taking the position…Will is.”

“In Santa Barbara?”

“Yes. I’m excited. It takes everything to another level.”

“Yes, it does.”

Spontaneously, she gave Decker a big hug. “Regards to Rina.”

As Decker watched her slide into Will’s car, the two of them zooming off, he realized he had a big smile on his face.

“DO YOU THINK they’ll get married?” Rina asked him.

Decker pulled back the covers and nestled into bed. “Not right away. They’re still about ninety miles away from one another. But now it’s a car trip instead of an airplane ride, so it’s moving in a more committed direction.”

“How old is Marge?”