Creativity

Back when I was a parole officer, we routinely investigated allegations of wrongdoing committed by our parolees. Those allegations were many and varied and posed the great risk of incarceration to those folks we supervised.

One of the tools we used was a pocket-sized dictaphone. A small tape recorder that we used to make notes, take evidence, and tape interviews. That little machine had a feature, that when you pressed the Record button without a tape in the machine, it would emit a loud, raucous beep to let you know that no tape was present.

One of my investigators, a fellow named Nathan, was married to a doctor. A medical doctor. Nathan had access to all manner of medical paraphernalia, and he used it.

One day Nathan asked me to witness an interview and I walked into his office. A parolee, a fellow named Joe was there. Joe was a not-too-bright petty criminal. Nathan explained to me that he was trying to get some background information from Joe, and Joe's story wasn't quite meshing. Nathan believed that Joe was fabricating part of the story and that he was going to use our new polygraph machine to get to the facts.

I knew we didn't have a polygraph, so I leaned against the doorjamb and watched. Nathan, with great ceremony, opened a desk drawer and took out a package containing one brand new EKG electrode. He used a jar of Vapo-Rub and lubricated the electrode, then stuck it directly to Joe's forehead. The small electric wire trailed down Joe's nose. Nathan explained that this new technology was smaller than the earlier versions. He then plugged the RCA jack at the end of the wire into one of the speaker jacks on the standard pocket recorder we all used. Nathan cradled the device in his hand and began the interview. Whenever he suspected Joe of lying, Nathan pushed the record button and the device emitted a high pitched buzz.

Before long, the buzzing was driving me crazy. Nathan cautioned Joe to tell the truth, the whole truth, and not make up details he couldn't possibly know. Joe started crying and the truth began to flow with the tears. Nathan got the full story, with enough details to clear a case involving a burglary ring. Joe wasn't directly involved, but knew where to find the stolen property.

Joe sat in the chair crying, the wire from the electrode dangling from his forehead until Nathan ended the interview by pulling the wire. The electrode came off Joe's forehead with an audible Pop!. Nathan told Joe to go home, that the truth had set him free, and not to let anyone know what had been discussed.

Nathan went on to clear his case, and send some very bad folks to prison. Joe, as far as I know, is still living free.