“Did you ask him what he was doing?”

“He said someone took his classifieds section, so he wanted to see if it was you.”

“Well, it wasn’t,” Ben said. “You should’ve sent him to Nathan-he’s the untrustworthy one around here.”

“There’s no way in hell Nathan would do that,” Ober insisted. “I don’t believe it for a second.”

“Well, I do,” Ben said. “And at this point, that’s all that really matters. Lisa and I are trying to find-”

“How can you suddenly trust Lisa with everything?” Ober interrupted. “I mean, you always say I’m dense, but you must be a moron to tell her stuff again.”

“Listen, I don’t trust her for a second,” Ben said, walking over to the sink. He turned on the water and splashed some on his face. “As soon as she left the office, I started investigating her as well.”

“Then why tell her anything at all?”

“It’s simple. First, she can’t do me any real harm. Second, and I know you’ll never understand this, but she helps me think better.”

“I don’t understand.”

“I really can’t explain it, but when I brainstorm with her, I wind up with my best ideas.”

“Well, I hate to be the one to break it to you, but this isn’t just some Supreme Court decision you two are working on. This is your life, buddy-boy.”

“It is?” Ben said sarcastically. “And here I thought it was just a big ol’ game of Parcheesi. Dang.”

“I think you’re way off in space with this one,” Ober said, shaking his head.

“Fine. I’ll take your advice into consideration. Now, are you going to help me or not?”

“I’m surprised you trust me. I mean, I may be in on it, too.”

“No offense, but I thought about it.”

“Thanks,” Ober said. “I really appreciate the vote of confidence.”

“Listen, don’t get offended. I’m telling you, aren’t I?”

“I just don’t understand why you’re telling me.”

“Because I need you to do me a favor,” Ben said. “I had all of Lisa’s phone bills sent to your address at work. It was the only address I could think of that Nathan, Rick, and Lisa don’t have access to. When you get the bills, will you let me know so I can go through them?”

“Of course,” Ober said. “One last question, though: If the house is bugged, why are you still telling me all this?”

“There’s nothing Rick’s heard that he can use against me,” Ben explained. “Lisa’s bills are already on their way, and if Nathan’s on his side, he already knows-” Ben heard a key in the lock of the front door and fell silent. “Don’t say a single word,” he warned, whispering over his shoulder as Ober followed him into the living room. “You promised.”

When the door opened, Nathan walked into the room. “My friend, you are going to be thrilled with me,” he said to Ben as he hung his jacket in the closet. He put his briefcase on the coffee table and sat down next to Ober. “Thanks to yours truly, you are now going to pass the marshal’s ever-alarming lie detector test.”

“And how’s that?” Ben asked.

“Well, let’s just say that I made a number of phone calls today, and I was able to get everything we need to beat the test.” Nathan opened his briefcase and pulled out a single sheet of paper. “I spoke to some of the technicians in the security division and they explained it all. First and foremost, you’re right about the test not being admissible in court.”

“I know,” Ben said curtly. “They’ve never been admissible.”

“What’s wrong with you?” Nathan asked.

Ober looked at Ben. “It’s nothing,” Ben said. “I’m just nervous about it. What else did they say?”

“This is the way the test works,” Nathan said, consulting a sheet of paper. “When you first walk in, they almost always have the machine set up in the middle of the room. They try to make it look imposing since the theory is that most people will confess because they’re so terrified of the machine. They then ask you questions for at least an hour before the machine is even hooked up and turned on. On average, this is where most people crack,” Nathan said, looking up from the paper to accentuate his point. “They said that the shadow of the box is enough to intimidate the average criminal.”

“Hey, Ben’s far more than average,” Ober said. “He’s at least in the ninetieth percentile of criminals.”

Ignoring his roommate, Nathan continued, “The machine itself measures three things: respiratory rate, blood pressure, and galvanic skin response, which is the skin’s response to electric current. Lying usually has a positive correlation with sweating, so the machine picks up your sweat levels. Not that you’d have any problem with that.”

“Just tell me how to pass the test,” Ben said impatiently.

“Relax,” Nathan said. “After the hour of questions, they’ll hook you up to the machine. And when they attach it, the machine will take baseline readings of your breathing and respiratory levels. This is the place where the undereducated always try to cheat the machine. They’ll try to breathe heavy and fidget around-doing anything they can to convince the machine that their heart rate is higher than it actually is. But the guys in security said that a good machine operator will easily recognize this and will quickly account for it.

“After the initial adjustment, they pull out a deck of cards, and they ask you questions about the cards. This is just to convince you that the machine works. Then they ask you three questions, and you’re supposed to answer no to each one, even if the real answer is yes. That’s how they see if you’re lying. They ask if you’re over the age of twenty-one, if you smoke, and if you’ve ever done anything you’re ashamed of. After that, finally, they ask you a maximum of three questions about whatever it is you’re accused of.”

“And that’s it?” Ben asked skeptically.

“That’s it.”

“But what about the way it works in the movies?” Ober asked. “Where you see the suspect getting grilled with dozens of questions while the needle thrashes across the scrolling paper.”

“Doesn’t happen in real life,” Nathan said. “In the real world, it can only test the truthfulness of three statements in a session.”

“So how does that help me?”

“Ah, I’m glad you asked,” Nathan said, reaching back into his briefcase. He pulled out a small brown medicine vial and threw it to Ben. “Those’re the pills that I told you the military uses to beat the tests.”

Ben read the label on the vial. “Prynadolol?”

“It works,” Nathan said. “You’re supposed to take one pill as soon as you wake up in the morning, and if your test is after three o’clock in the afternoon, you should take another pill at lunch.”

“How did you get these?” Ben asked, pulling off the cap to see five pills inside.

“I told the technicians that my younger brother had to take a lie detector test for his job in the mall. When they heard that, they just offered the pills to me.”

“How do they work?”

“They’re supposed to moderate your heart rate and blood pressure,” Nathan explained. “Doctors usually give them to people who have recurring heart attacks, and politicians use them to beat stagefright, but the military realized that they could put them to much better use.”

“Are these experimental or are they FDA approved?”

“If they were approved, everyone would have access,” Nathan said.

“So they’re experimental,” Ben said.

“They’re fine,” Nathan said. “Do you really think they’d give me something that was potentially dangerous?”

“I think it’d be cool if they were dangerous,” Ober said. “Then you’d grow an extra nostril in your forehead and we could sue the government for billions.”

“Or maybe it’d cause me to grow a brain,” Ben said. Looking back to Nathan, he continued, “Now tell me how this helps me pass the test.”

“It doesn’t guarantee you’ll pass,” Nathan said. “It significantly increases your chances, but it’s still primarily up to you. While you’re in the room, you have to be as calm as possible. Don’t fidget and don’t get nervous. The technicians said that if you’re a good liar, you should do fine. If you’re a bozo, you’ll probably freak out and fail regardless.”