Murph knocked on the door and Hastings said to come in. Murph said, “They started yet?”
“Yeah.”
They were in a room across the hall from the polygraph examination room. Murph took a seat and he and Hastings watched a black and white television monitor.
On the monitor they could see Jeff Lacroix answer questions put to him by the polygraph examiner. Jeff Lacroix’s breathing was labored and he was obviously stressed. But in Hastings’s experience, that in itself was not evidence of deception.
The whole process took about forty-five minutes. When it was done, the polygraph examiner removed the clips from Jeff’s body and told him it was over. Jeff exhaled and said he hoped he’d done okay.
The polygraph examiner left the room, crossed the hall and knocked on the door, Murph and Hastings standing and ready.
The polygraph examiner was a skinny woman of about forty. Her name was Phyllis McCune.
She said, “Non-deceptive on all counts. He’s telling the truth.”
“Any signs of sociopathic tendencies?” Murph asked.
“Well, the exam can’t detect that. Do you think he’s a sociopath?”
“No,” Hastings said. “We’ll take it from here. Thanks, Phyllis.”
She left and Murph threw his hands up.
Hastings said, “He’s no killer. Look at how nervous he was.”
Murph said, “Doesn’t that mean anything to you?”
“It means he’s nervous about taking a polygraph. Even the most innocent people are.”
“It wouldn’t be admissible evidence in his defense.”
“He didn’t do it, Murph. He volunteered to take this exam.”
“So what?”
“He wants to help us. Christ, he lost his best friend.”
“All right, George. Sorry. I didn’t mean any disrespect.”
“It’s all right. Thanks for coming.”
Hastings escorted Jeff out of the polygraph room. In the hall, Hastings said, “You passed the exam.”
“Oh, thank God.”
Hastings said, “Did you think you wouldn’t?”
“No. Look, I’m a Catholic. We feel guilty about things we haven’t done.”
“You’re a Catholic?”
“Yes. I go to mass every Sunday.”
“Did Aaron go with you?”
“No. He wasn’t spiritual at all. Oh, God.” Jeff started crying. Now that the exam was finished, he was letting his emotions loose.
Hastings put a hand on his shoulder. “All right, Jeff. Come on. Come have a cup of coffee with me. I want to talk to you about this.”
They walked out of the police department building and down the street to Union Station. They sat at a table near the Marriott brickwork. Hastings bought the coffees.
Hastings said, “You live in an apartment, right?”
“Yes.”
“Is there a pool there?”
“A pool…you mean a swimming pool?”
“Yes.”
“Well, of course not. You’ve seen our apartment.”
“Do you swim?”
“Swim? Yes, I know how to swim.”
“When’s the last time you went swimming?”
“God, I don’t know. Let’s see…yes, a family vacation. A reunion. I swam at the hotel pool. You know, just to cool off.”
“They found chlorinated water in Aaron’s lungs.”
“What?”
“Chlorinated water. He was drowned in a swimming pool.”
“A swimming pool? Are you putting me on?”
“No, Jeff. That’s what the medical examiner found.”
Jeff Lacroix stared at him.
Hastings said, “I’m not playing cop psych games with you, Jeff. I’m telling you the truth. Aaron drowned in a swimming pool. Then someone took him to the river, using his car, and dumped him in the river.”
Jeff screwed up his face. “So he was murdered, then?”
“Yeah, that’s how it looks.”
Jeff sobbed. “Oh, God. Why?”
“I don’t know,” Hastings said. “But I think it has something to do with Johnny Rodgers. In fact, I’m sure it does. We weren’t entirely sure about Rodgers before. Plenty of people at the department thought he killed himself. I even thought it. But now…a suicide doesn’t make sense. For either of them.”
“Johnny I can see. He was a shitpoke. A seedy, dirty man. But Aaron? God, Aaron was so harmless.”
“Listen, Jeff, I know you loved Aaron. And I’m sorry you lost him. But I want to catch the person who did this. And I need you to help me.”
“I am helping you.”
“I know. But I need you to be honest with me. Honest with yourself. Ask yourself if Aaron was as innocent or as harmless as you thought he was. Ask yourself if there was something that maybe he was hiding from you. Something bad.”
“He wasn’t. He had a thing for Johnny, yes. But Aaron was like a child.”
“In what sense?”
“I don’t mean child, like, retarded or anything. I mean like a high school kid. He wanted to be with the ‘in’ people. The popular kids. He was status conscious.”
“But Johnny wasn’t exactly a status figure.”
“No. But he was…you know, magnetic. Aaron was drawn to people like that. In the short term, anyway. But that doesn’t mean Aaron would get involved in a crime or anything. It wasn’t him. I told you this.”
“I know what you told me. But I want you to think about it some more. Think about who Aaron saw, who he talked about. Now I’m going to tell you something about myself, Jeff, because I’m not sure you trust me and for that reason I think it’s important that you understand where I’m coming from. I don’t like people who murder and believe they can get away with it. I don’t like them at all. Catching people like that, hunting them down and putting them away, it’s what keeps me going. It’s what motivates me to get out of bed in the morning and put up with all kinds of shit as my…life…wears on. The fact that the victims are a couple of homosexuals who won’t be missed by many people is immaterial to me. My worldview, my reasons are not the same as yours. But believe me when I tell you I want to catch this killer as much as you do.”
Jeff Lacroix sniffed. “Okay,” he said. “I believe you.”
“Good. Now I want you to call me if you think of anything that might help me. Will you do that?”
“I will.”