Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit by Paul Goldman (surface ebook reader txt) 📗

Audrey was a madam, and a hooker.

“That fucking bitch,” Iseethed as I stared down at the pile of papers.

My mind raced. Royce wasn't her boyfriend.Royce was her pimp. My wife, my marriage, and everything that Ithought I knew, was a lie.

I was stupefied. I was shaking. And then Iscreamed.

This couldn't be my life. This was somethingthat happened in a bad movie to some delusional guy who merited thedeception. This was something that happened to somebody else. Thiswas not something that happened to me.

Utterly and emotionallyexhausted, I sat back into my chair and felt anger take its place.I pounded my computer desk hoping that some physical pain mightreplace the internal pain. It didn’t. How dare she do this to me?How dare she do this to my son? She pretended to love us both. Sheallowed Johnny to become attached to her. She allowed me to believewe were in love. For the first time in my life, I felt true,uncontrollable rage.

Violent thoughts raced through my mind.Images of me hurting, even killing Audrey seemed real andreasonable. It would be justifiable homicide, I thought. No jurywould ever convict me. I was a man without boundaries. I wasunhinged. And then, suddenly I was calm. Using every bit ofstrength I had, I reached down inside and grabbed hold of the innerpeace that twenty-five years of meditation had given me. It was thecalm to my internal storm and, though it seemed entirely deserving,violence would not be my path.

Having regained some control, something elseoccurred to me that made me truly fearful. If Audrey was aprostitute and her list of clients was as long as the phone logssuggested, then how might my own health and the health of my son beat risk? Images of lesion-riddled AIDS patients filled my mind andI did some quick math: ten tricks a week worked out to about fivehundred tricks a year for a period of four years.

Acknowledging the probability of a fewregulars, the equation was staggering. Audrey has had sex with overa thousand men. Therefore, biologically, so have I.

Totally overcome with revulsion and fear, Itasted a bitterness rising in my throat. I made my way to thebathroom where I vomited, and vomited some more. Even when therewas nothing left, I kept vomiting.

Finally, it all stopped. Igot up off my knees, lowered the seat and cover, and sat on thetoilet. After a few minutes, I realized I needed to manage my fearand remain calm because I had to function. I took deep breaths andtried to sort out the thoughts racing through my mind.

I felt myself begin togive way to complete despair, and then I made a decision. I wouldnot allow myself to drown in the bleak waters of depression. Iwould set forth to chart my own course and determine how this storywould end. I would no longer play the role of the fool, nor would Iallow someone else to dictate what might lay ahead for me or myson. I stood up and began what would be one of a series of showers,showers that would allow me to emotionally wash away the memoriesof Audrey, the feelings for Audrey, and the idea of who I thoughtAudrey was. I would no longer be a man who had something horribledone to him. I would now be a man who was proactively doing forhimself. I would also get myself and my son to a doctor.

And most importantly, I would bring downAudrey and her sleazy prostitution ring.

No matter what.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

In Pursuit of the Truth

After the initial shock ofAudrey’s true identity had dissipated, I allowed myself some timeto pick up the pieces of my shattered self. I had to accept thefact that our whole relationship had been a complete lie. Realizingthat it wouldn’t work was one thing, but to now know itnever worked wasentirely different. I could have easily gotten lost in thedevastation of it, but I wouldn't let that happen to me, nor to myson.

Refocusing my energy, I prepared a mentalchecklist by which I would not only put myself on the road toemotional recovery, but also make sure that Audrey’s crimes wouldnot go unpunished.

As promised, my first priority was gettingmyself and my son to a doctor as soon as possible. Well aware thatthere were almost as many contractible STDs as there wereprostitutes, my fear was very real. Fortunately, a series of testsconsidered standard by our family physician provided some immediatereassurance, though the constant, uninvited images of Audrey withslews of different men still left me wanting to somehow detoxify mybody.

Next on the mentalchecklist was a thorough investigation of Audrey’s phone records,which seemed that much more interesting now that I was examiningthem with new knowledge and perspective. The calls to Royce seemedendless, as did the calls to her voice mailbox, but many of thenumbers remained a mystery as Google provided no results. Resolutein my determination, I continued to sort through the logs, knowingthere had to be more to uncover. And there was. I began with theChicago numbers and noticed that a dozen calls had been made tonumbers in Chicago the last week in April, and the last week ofMay. Expanding my investigative approach, I compared the dates ofthose calls to her debit card statements and found that chargeswere made to American Airlines and several local Chicago storesduring both periods. It looked like Audrey was engaged in “illegalinterstate commerce,” something the FBI might want to hear about.Knowing that I needed to be thorough if I was ever to use myfindings for retribution or legal leverage, I decided to once againcall Bob Thompson and, again, he seemed not at all surprised tohear from me.

“Chicago? April 2007? Iseem to remember Audrey telling me she was taking a trip there ataround that time to attend a friend’s wedding. Yes, now that Ithink about it, it was at the end of April,” he paused, and I couldpractically hear his mind trying to recall exact dates. “Yes, thatwas in April, but as for May... well, I don’t remember any trip atthe end of May.”

“I see,” was my onlyresponse before I