Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit by Paul Goldman (general ebook reader .TXT) 📕

“I see that you have askedfor alimony in this case, Mr. Smith,” he began, peering down at apaper through his glasses. “By law, since you have done so, Mr.Goldman has the right to discover any income Ms. Munson might have.You have ten days to get Mr. Goldman the requested information.”And with that, we had won another, very small victory. In ten dayswe'd know everything, I thought. Great, we're finally going to getto the bottom of this.

Exactly ten days later, I received a callfrom Adam explaining that Audrey again claimed to have noadditional assets. Angered and surprised by her dishonesty andindifference to the court, I practically shouted at my lawyer, “Shesays she's unemployed, with no assets, no trust fund. Do they thinkthat $3,000 a month over and above her child support incomematerialized in her bank account out of thin air? It’s ridiculous.Now we need to get a motion for sanctions, and let the judge slap anice penalty on them.”

“Calm down, Paul,” Adamreplied. “I agree she's hiding something, but, I don’t want to movefor sanctions. It will be more effective if I simply ask her duringthe trial about the source of those funds.”

“You’re the expert,” Iagreed, though I would have enjoyed watching Audrey incur thejudge’s wrath. I hung up the phone with Adam and decided that Imight be looking forward to my trial after all.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The Revelation

August 1, 2009

Three weeks after the contempt of courthearing, I was back in my lawyer’s office, looking to furtherinvestigate Audrey’s background as Terri had advised. Instead offinancial statements, however, Adam had subpoenaed Audrey’s cellphone records, something I didn’t even know could be done.

“As a matter of course, Ialways subpoena the spouse’s cell phone records,” Adam explained,while he scribbled some notes in a folder. I stood before him, tooeager and too excited to stay any longer than I had to. “If youfind anything interesting, let me know.”

“I will, thanks,” I saidhurriedly, as I grabbed the box full of papers. Adam returned tohis work, and I turned toward the door, and headed out of hisoffice.

The outside air greeted mewith a blast of heat that did nothing to slacken my pace. Hoppinginto my car, I only took a moment to turn on the car and thenecessary air conditioner before diving into the extensive stack ofpapers, covering Audrey's calls from January of 2007 to June of2009. My eyes poured over the endless numbers on page after page,straining to make out something recognizable or repetitive amid theblur of digits. The more I scanned, the more I saw one number overand over again, a number I didn't recognize. This must be herlatest boyfriend, I thought. It wasn’t her parents’ or eitherex-husbands’ number, and since it was called many times each day, Iwas confronted with the obvious: Audrey had found a new victim. Iwondered when they began seeing each other, so I flipped throughthe logs, going back in time. April, March, February, January.Still, there was this number, called every day. Strange, I thought.From what I've learned, Audrey can't maintain a relationship formore than a few months. I wonder... and I turned the stackcompletely over and looked at page one, September 18,2007.

Our wedding day.

There it was, again. Audrey placed three calls to this guyduring the day, the last one only a half hour before our ceremony,and then THREE MORE CALLS TO HIM THATNIGHT, OUR WEDDING NIGHT, after we hadmade love and I had fallen asleep. Calls were made at 11:30, 11:45and then one shortly after midnight, at 12:14 a.m. I was in shock.A feeling of dread crept over me. Who was this guy? After we madelove, my bride was making phone calls? To whom? Why? I had to findout.

Not only that, but Audreycalled him, and received calls from him, ten times per day, thenext day, the next, and the next, day after day, week after week,month after month. Even married couples don’t call each other tentimes a day. What the hell was going on?

I kept telling myself there had to be anexplanation for it, something I hadn't considered. I threw the boxonto the passenger's seat and stared out at the parking lot, thepavement smoldering from the heat. Shaking my head, I slowly beganthe drive home, not sure what answers I might find.

Arriving home, I strode through the door andclimbed the stairs to my office, intent on the only source foranswers I could think of: the internet. I entered the room, turnedon the light, and sat down at my desk, the glow of the monitorbeckoning me. Without even the briefest of hesitations, I went toGoogle and typed in the mystery number.

The number brought me to awebsite for a man selling a boat. Not the result I had expected. Iwas expecting to see somebody who could be Audrey's love, not thisfat, scruffy-looking character with a twenty-something blondesitting next to him. He seemed to be just a man selling a boat. Heidentified himself as Royce from the small town of Hobe Sound,located twenty miles north of Jupiter. Though the informationprovided was simple enough, I found myself even more puzzled. Whywas Audrey contacting this particular man every day, all day andall night, including our wedding night? I needed to find outmore.

I reached for the phone and began to dial aman with whom I had never expected to share very much in common,until now. The man was Bob Thompson and I knew if anyone could helpme uncover some clues as to who Audrey truly was, it would be hersecond husband. Even though we hadn’t really spoken since ourrevealing breakfast at the IHOP a few months back, Bob didn’t seemat all surprised that I might have more to ask him about Audrey. Iwarmly greeted him.

When he, in turn, inquired about me, my voicestruggled to mask my emotions. I was feeling helpless, alone, andmore than a little lost. I was spiraling, but I did what any manwith pride would do: “Fine, fine. Things are, you know, fine. Iwas, uh, hoping to run a couple questions by you. About Audrey. Isthis a bad