CURL UP AND DIE

Curl Up and Die Preview Project #619139 Detective Lenhart straightened his tie. “You claim you’re not guilty in the Morris case,” he said in a manly baritone. “Morris case?” “Sorry, Mrs. Weinstein. I don’t mean to be disrespectful. I should have said, . . . .in your friend’s murder.” “Poor Dolly,” I said quietly. “You did admit it was your fault.” “I already explained why when I told you if it wasn’t for me going to Miami Beach, Dolly would’ve remained in Brooklyn and she still would be alive.” “There’s a way to help clear you. It’s not completely reliable, but it’s a step in the right direction. It’s called a polygraph test and it has some utility. It’s completely voluntary. In the event that it’s entered into evidence in a trial, then it’s subject to the discretion of the trial judge. I can’t force you to take this test, Mrs. Weinstein.” I sat back and weighed my chances. I know about lie detector tests from what I had seen in the movies and on TV. Maybe if I take the test, the idiot wouldn’t bother me anymore and I can proceed with my own investigation. “I volunteer to take the lie detector test.” * * * The temperature in Miami was 92 degrees and humid but the polygraph room was air-conditioned making my skin crawl with goosebumps considering the air outside was unbearable. The eagle-eyed examiner dressed in a white lab coat over tan slacks, introduced himself as Dr. Whitney, gave me a gentle smile, and seated me in a chair next to a table that had a machine with threatening wires and knobs. Dr. Whitney explained that the wires were for measuring and recording several physiological signs such as pulse, blood pressure, respiration, and skin conductivity. He said calmly, “All the time that you’re hooked up, I’ll ask you a series of questions that you’ll answer.” He looked me straight in my eyes and added, “Deceptive answers will produce physiological responses that I’ll be able to discern as lies, so it is important for you to answer truthfully. Do you understand what I just told you?” “Yes, sir, I understand.” He must think I’m a moron, I thought. Dr. Whitney attached electrodes to different parts of my body and asked if I was comfortable. I was afraid to lie so I told the truth. “I’m scared. I never had one of these tests. Does it hurt?” “Just relax. I assure you there is no pain involved. It won’t take long. Now I’ll ask you a question and you are to deliberately lie so I can monitor your physical response.” “Hold off, Dr. Whitney. I’m not a good liar.” Actually, I just lied because when it comes to lying I can win first prize, but I wasn’t going to reveal that fact. “Just do the best that you can. What is your name?” “Gregory Peck.” “That was good. I was able to detect that you lied. From now on answer the questions truthfully.” “Yes, sir.” “What is your name?” “Sadie Chaya Weinstein.” “Where do you live?” “I live in a four-room apartment on the third floor of an apartment house at 315 Lenox Road in Flatbush. That’s a neighborhood in Brooklyn, New York? How am I doing?” “Fine. Your answers don’t have to be that involved. How do you feel about the death of Dolly Morris?” I decided to give him one word answers. “Awful.” “Do you have anything that might injure a person?” “Yes.” “What?” “A rolling pin.” “Are you a violent person?” “What do you mean by violent?” “No, Mrs. Weinstein. I ask the questions, not you.” “Okay.” “Let’s try this again. Are you easily angered?” “I’m getting there.” “Have you been known to kill within the last week?” “Yes.” “Did you kill Dolly Morris?” “No.” “Who did you kill?” “A big bug on the kitchen counter in my hotel.” “Thank you, Mrs. Weinstein. That’s all for now, except that your husband left a message that he was hungry and went back to the hotel.”