Free Hard Rain by Peter Abrahams

DeMarco’s nonnews. She took some more from the fact that Barbara was helping her. Rain drummed on the roof.
    â€œWhat’s that?” Philip said, much later. He was a light sleeper.
    Jessie listened. She heard someone moving in the hall. Jessie smiled in the darkness. “Barbara,” she whispered. “Looking for cigarettes.”
    They heard feet going downstairs, heard a briefcase opening, heard an irritated mutter. “Barbara’s a … hard person, isn’t she?” Philip said.
    â€œShe’s the best of the best,” Jessie said.
    Philip rolled over the other way. Jessie thought about Barbara’s boy theory.
    She heard the front door open and shut. The liquor store was closed by now, but they had cigarettes next door to it at the all-night grocery. Jessie closed her eyes. She listened to the rain.
    An awful shriek of rubber snapped her up into a sitting position. The next moment came the sickening thump of something hard striking something soft. Then rubber shrieked again.
    â€œOh, God,” Jessie said, and she was out of bed, running down the hall, down the stairs, out into the rain. Barbara lay in the middle of the road.
    â€œOh, God.”
    Jessie fell to her knees and took Barbara in her arms. Barbara’s eyes were open. “I was wrong about the sixties, Jess,” she said, so faintly that Jessie could barely hear. “There was you.”
    She said no more. A moment later there was no life in her at all. “Oh God, oh God, oh God.” Jessie held Barbara tight, rocking her back and forth, back and forth. She didn’t stop until the police came and pulled her away.
    Only then did Jessie notice that Barbara had borrowed the big yellow slicker to protect her from the rain.

8
    Senator Frame: Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the text of the prospective legislation be printed in the RECORD at this time.
    There being no objection, the material was ordered to be printed in the RECORD as follows:
    S. 4076
    Be it enacted by the Senate and House of Representatives of the United States of America in Congress assembled,
    Section 1. SHORT TITLE AND TABLE OF CONTENTS
    a) SHORT TITLE —This Act may be cited as the Federal Polygraph Law.
    â€”from the Congressional Record
    â€œThis won’t hurt a bit,” said the young man, slipping a blood pressure cuff around the woman’s arm. He pumped in air until it felt uncomfortable; you couldn’t call it hurting. Then he strapped two sweat detectors to her fingers, fit a narrow rubber belt around her chest and a wider one around her waist, and flicked a switch on a metal box that lay on a desk between them. Four styluses quivered in anticipation.
    â€œFollow the Redskins?” the young man asked.
    â€œIs that the first question?”
    â€œHa, ha,” he said. “Nope. Just making conversation.” But he didn’t make any more of it. Instead he adjusted a dial on the metal box, pumped a little more air into the blood pressure cuff and took out a notebook. He wore an identification tag on his lapel: John A. Brent, Jr.
    â€œMust it be so tight, Mr. Brent?”
    â€œExcuse me?”
    â€œThe blood pressure thing.”
    He looked at a dial on the metal box. “We’re well within the standard range,” he said. “It won’t be long.”
    â€œHow long? My husband didn’t tell me.”
    â€œNot long.” The young man opened his notebook; his eyes scanned the writing inside.
    â€œMy husband gave me to understand that this would be …”
    He looked up. John A. Brent, Jr.’s eyes were instruments for seeing; the revelation capacity had been shut down. “Yes?”
    â€œPro forma.”
    â€œPro forma?” he said. His eyes returned to the notebook. The woman didn’t know whether he was ignorant of the expression or was merely avoiding answering it. To find out she’d have to be on the other side of the metal box;