Answer Man

Chapter One God, he hated this job. Ken Parker fastened two cords across the sweaty man's chest. He tested the cords' tension by pulling them taut. "I'm a little nervous." The man was sweating even more. "Roll up your left sleeve." The man obliged. Quickly. Poor bastard. What did the guy do to deserve this kind of treatment? Probably nothing. He was the last of five people Ken had seen that afternoon, and he seemed decent enough. It didn't matter. Ken placed a blood pressure gauge around the man's arm. Velcro fasteners held the wrap. He squeezed the bulb and pumped it up. The man's eyes bulged with each squeeze. Ken looked at his polygraph. Lie detector. Truth teller. About the size of a small copying machine, it sat on a metal stand in the center of his shabby office. He'd always thought it was a scary-looking device. Which was probably the point. It was stark, angular, and boxy, with quivering, trembling needles that left jagged lines on the slowly rolling graph paper. The nervous interviewee, one Carlos Valez, sat in an uncomfortable straight-backed chair. Can't have these people feeling at ease. No. Gotta keep 'em on edge. Nervous. Scared. Make 'em believe. Then maybe they'll fess up and bare their souls. If they believe this stuff works, maybe it really will. Ken wrapped a perspiration sensor around Carlos's index finger. The man was dripping. His heart was pounding. Ken stepped back and took a good long look at his interviewee. Carlos was a wreck. Just the way he was supposed to be. Ken reminded himself to find a new line of work. "Why are you nervous? You're not going to lie to me, are you?" "No, I'm just afraid--" Ken plopped into his chair and rolled over to a cluttered desk. "You're afraid the lie detector is going to say you're lying when you're really not." Ken didn't look up, but he imagined Carlos was nodding in response. That short, jerky, frightened nod he had seen too many times. He didn't need to see it again, so he continued to search his desk. Damn, there were a lot of bills there. He didn't think he was that far behind. And this phone number ... Was this the woman who...' No, probably not. He finally picked up a pack of playing cards. "Don't worry. We're going to do a little test here." He rolled back to Carlos and fanned out the deck. "Take a card." "What?" "Take a card, any card." Carlos reached over and his shaking hand hovered above the cards for a moment. His fingernails were dirty, and large, knobby calluses were peeling from his knuckles. He selected a card. Ken put the rest of the deck away. "Okay, Carlos. I want you to lie to me." "What?" "Lie to me. Look at your card and say no to every question I ask. We're going to calibrate the machine to your responses. Ready?" Carlos replied with a vague shrug. Ken flipped on the polygraph and thumped it, shaking the sensitive needles slightly. The large roll of graph paper turned slowly, moving beneath the oscillating needles. It recorded Carlos's every breath. Every heartbeat. Every drop of sweat. Ken leaned over his machine with the authority of a scientist. If they believe this stuff works, maybe it really will.... "Okay. Is it a face card?" "No." "Is it a number card?" "No." Ken studied the graph paper. "All right. It's a face card, isn't it?" The sensitive needles jumped sharply, indicating Carlos's startled reaction. "Is it a king?" "No." "Is it a queen?" "No." "Is it a jack?" "No." "Is it an ace?" "No." [read more]