Bronx Justice (22 page)

T
wo days after the verdict, Jaywalker called Darren and had him come down to the office. He seemed to have recovered from the shock and was actually in pretty good spirits, considering everything. It frightened Jaywalker, in a way. Here was a young man who'd just learned he was going to spend the next ten or twenty years of his life in prison for crimes he hadn't committed,
and he was coping with it.
Some people can adjust to anything, Jaywalker concluded. Had it been him, he would have been climbing the walls, screaming his lungs out.

They talked about what came next. Jaywalker confessed that other than an appeal, he was pretty much out of ideas. One of the few suggestions he made was another try at a polygraph test. John McCarthy, the investigator, recommended an examiner named Cleve Bryant. Jaywalker told Darren that it was a long shot at best, but that he was willing to set it up if Darren was interested. He
was
interested. He was willing to try anything, he said, no matter how long the odds.

Before calling Bryant, Jaywalker phoned Pope to let him
know what they were thinking of doing. It wasn't that he needed Pope's approval, but Jaywalker was still feeling a bit defensive over the way Pope had known about the tests with Dick Arledge's office without Jaywalker having told him.

Pope's reaction was negative. His office had recently had some sort of a problem with Bryant, and he said that even in the event of a positive finding—that Darren was telling the truth—he wouldn't be able to recommend any action on the basis of it. In the years to follow, Jaywalker would learn that there was nothing unusual about Pope's reaction. Polygraphists, it seems, went in and out of favor with prosecutors. One day a particular examiner was their darling; the next day his word was worthless.

Based on his conversation with Pope, Jaywalker put off calling Bryant for a day or two. When he finally did call him, he was told he was out of town and wouldn't be back for a week or two.

 

The following Wednesday, Darren came down to the office again, this time to pick up a letter Jaywalker had written him for his job. It was their hope to keep Darren working at the post office during his appeal. This time, Darren had a suggestion of his own.

“Jay,” he said, “what about t-t-truth serum?”

Not exactly the kind of idea a guilty man would come up with, was it? And a new one for Jaywalker. He'd always regarded truth serum as right up there with crystal balls and tarot cards, the stuff of cheap novels and grade-B movies. But, like Darren, he was willing to try just about anything.

The problem was, you couldn't simply go to the yellow pages and let your fingers do the walking until they came to Truth Serum. Or even Serum, Truth, for that matter. So
Jaywalker put in a call to a psychologist friend, George Goldman, on whose couch Jaywalker himself had spent more than a few hours. Goldman came up with the names of two psychiatrists—they were talking about drugs here, so a physician would be needed—who'd worked with sodium amytol, a refinement of sodium pentathol, popularly known as truth serum.

The first of the two psychiatrists Jaywalker contacted wasn't interested; he evidently fit the mold of most doctors when it came to matters involving lawyers and court cases. The second, a man named Herbert Spraigue, seemed genuinely intrigued with the problem, but said that lately he was working less with sodium amytol and more with hypnosis. When Jaywalker asked him why, Spraigue explained that he'd come to put more stock in it and found it safer to work with. Those struck Jaywalker as two pretty sound reasons, and he took the first available appointment. Then, remembering he was only the lawyer, he phoned Darren to ask for his approval.

He got it.

 

A couple of days later, Charlene went into labor and gave birth to a baby girl, whom she and Darren named Angela. Inez called Jaywalker with the news. He couldn't help thinking that what should have been a wonderful moment for the entire family had its bittersweet edge, with Darren living on borrowed time, looking at a long prison sentence.

April 1st, 1980

Jaywalker had to wonder if it was only fitting that their appointment with a hypnotist fell on April Fools' Day.
Which, along with Halloween, was as close to Jaywalker's national holiday as anything.

He arrived at Dr. Spraigue's office early, ahead of Darren. Spraigue immediately struck him as a strange-looking man of great intensity. His totally bald head and thin body made him seem absolutely ageless. Jaywalker wouldn't have been surprised to hear he was forty or seventy, or anywhere in between. Months later he would learn that Spraigue had lately been focusing on criminal matters, particularly the area of false confessions. He would go on to earn a reputation as one of the foremost forensic hypnotists in the world. But for the moment, at least to Jaywalker, he was nothing but a weird-looking character who might somehow be able to help Darren.

They spoke for about fifteen minutes, with Jaywalker filling Spraigue in on the basics of the case. Whenever the doctor interrupted to make a comment or ask a question, it was in a deep, resonant, almost melodious voice. Jaywalker didn't quite know what to make of it at first, particularly because of the way it contrasted with Spraigue's physical person. But then it hit him: it was the quintessential voice of a hypnotist. From that moment on, Jaywalker found himself unconsciously breaking off eye contact from time to time, as though he were afraid of falling under Spraigue's spell.

Jaywalker explained that he was looking for two things. The first was some sort of verification that Darren was telling the truth when he denied having any involvement with the rapes. The second was anything in the nature of an alibi that might be unearthed from Darren's subconscious while he was under hypnosis. Dr. Spraigue nodded thoughtfully. The first thing he would have to do, he said,
was to determine whether or not Darren was a fit subject for hypnosis. “Not everyone is, you know.”

Jaywalker confessed that he hadn't known. This was all uncharted territory for him. Up until that moment, he'd tended to regard hypnosis as something between a parlor trick and a magic act. That, and the subject of fiction.
The Manchurian Candidate
came to mind.

But Spraigue assured him that hypnosis was very real. And if they were lucky, and Darren in fact proved to be a fit subject, then they would attempt a “time regression” with him, taking him back to earlier moments of his life. Jaywalker nodded, trying to put on a hopeful face. But who was he kidding? This was a kid who couldn't be polygraphed, so what made him think he could be
hypnotized?

By that time, Darren had arrived, accompanied, as always, by his cousin Delroid. Jaywalker's instructions to the Kingston family were still in place. He was hoping that the real Castle Hill rapist might strike again, and if he did, Jaywalker wanted to have someone besides Darren himself to account for his whereabouts.

Leaving Delroid in the waiting room, Jaywalker brought Darren in and introduced him to Dr. Spraigue. Then, recalling the polygraph sessions, he made a move toward the door, assuming that his continued presence might prove a distraction. But the doctor assured him that he could stay without interfering.

Dr. Spraigue seated Darren in a comfortable leather chair directly opposite the one in which he himself sat. He spoke with Darren for a while, explaining what it was he proposed to do, checking to see if it was okay with Darren, and pointing out how it might help. Somewhere during the conversation, Spraigue's voice changed slightly, though it
was hard to pinpoint the exact moment when it happened. But there came a time when Jaywalker was aware that although the doctor's voice was still deep and resonant, he was now speaking in an exaggerated monotone, almost without modulation. Darren appeared to be listening with complete attention and said he was anxious to try whatever might work.

“Now,” said Spraigue, “put your arms on the arms of the chair. Lean your head back. Look up, way up into the top of your head. Keep looking up. That's good. Now close your eyes. Keep looking up. Take a deep breath. Close, close, deep breath. Aaaaaaahhh. Exhale. Eyes relaxed. Body floating. Now, as you feel yourself floating, you're going into a very deep state of relaxation. Deep, deep relaxation.”

Spraigue caught Jaywalker's eye and nodded. Jaywalker looked at Darren. Could it be that he was actually hypnotized? Jaywalker had been waiting for swinging pocket watches and magical incantations.

“Okay, Darren,” Spraigue was saying in his monotone. “We're going to test you out. We're going to let you see for yourself how deep a trance you're in. In a while, I'm going to stroke your left arm. After I do, it will become as stiff and rigid as an iron pipe. So stiff and rigid that no matter how hard you try, you won't be able to bend it. Ready.”

Spraigue leaned forward and stroked Darren's left arm up and down several times. As he did so, he lifted the arm and extended it in front of Darren. When he stopped stroking it, the arm remained in midair. It struck Jaywalker as a fairly unnatural and uncomfortable position, certainly one that couldn't be maintained for long.

“Now,” said Spraigue, “your arm is going to stay in this position, even after I give you the signal to come out of the trance state. You'll notice that the harder you try to bend your elbow, the stiffer it will become. But sometime after that, when I touch your left shoulder, your usual sensation and control will return to your left arm and hand, and you'll find it a very relieving experience.

“Now I'm going to count backward. When I get to two, your eyes will try to open, but they won't be able to. When I get to one, they'll open slowly. Ready. Three, two and one.”

Darren's eyes opened slowly. Jaywalker watched in amazement, fighting back the urge to laugh out loud. Darren stared at his own left arm, extended strangely in front of him.

“What in the world is going on?” asked Spraigue. The monotone was gone, replaced by a friendly, conversational cadence.

“I don't know,” said Darren.

“What happens if you try to bend it?”

“C-c-can't.”

“Has that ever happened to you before?”

“No.”

“Let me test it out and see.” Spraigue leaned forward and pushed down against the arm. It didn't bend. “If you saw that in someone else,” he asked, “would you believe it?”

“I definitely wouldn't.”

“Does it frighten you?”

“A little bit.”

“All right,” said Spraigue. “I'll tell you what. You concentrate on your fist. You try your very hardest to pull it toward you. Go ahead.
Pull!
”

Darren pulled. The arm didn't move. Spraigue stood up and moved to the side of Darren's chair. Unobtrusively, he touched Darren's left shoulder. As if by magic, the arm suddenly moved. Darren bent it back and forth. He smiled, then laughed easily. Jaywalker could do nothing but shake his head. He was suddenly ready to believe in witchcraft, reincarnation, ESP and UFOs. Bring them all on!

 

Apparently satisfied that his subject was open to hypnosis, Dr. Spraigue proceeded to put Darren through a series of time regressions by putting him under hypnosis, taking him back to an earlier time in his life and waking him up to relive that time. He selected birthdays, explaining to Jaywalker afterward that those tended to be easily remembered.

Red letter days,
Justice Davidoff might have called them.

First Spraigue took Darren back to his tenth birthday. Then he woke him from the trance and interviewed him. In a noticeably younger voice, Darren talked about school and his teacher, Miss Curio. When asked the name of the president, Darren proudly answered, “Nixon.” Spraigue pointed at Jaywalker and asked if Darren knew who he was.

“No,” said Darren.

Taken back to his fourth birthday, Darren spoke in monosyllables. Asked to read from a book, he couldn't. Soon he became frightened and began whimpering for his mother.

At his first birthday, Darren didn't speak at all. Instead, he cried like the baby he was, stopping only when Dr. Spraigue handed him a rubber toy.

The hour was almost finished. Spraigue put Darren back into the trance and brought him up to the present.
Darren woke up on command. Spraigue sent him to the waiting room, so that he and Jaywalker could make arrangements for a second session. Jaywalker wanted Darren brought back to the specific dates of the rapes and woken up at the times they were committed, so they could see where he'd been and whom, if anyone, he'd been with. Spraigue wasn't sure the technique would work on random dates, but he was willing to try. After all, he said, Darren was as good a candidate as he'd seen in a long time. He'd known that as soon as he'd seen how far Darren could roll back the pupils of his eyes, which he'd discovered was a foolproof test.

They set up an appointment for Wednesday evening, and Jaywalker was getting ready to leave, when Delroid suddenly burst into the room, dragging Darren by one arm.

“Something's wrong,” said Delroid. “He's acting funny. He doesn't know why he's here or anything.”