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

“Maybe not,” I said,refusing to let another door close on our investigation. “I thinkit’s time to kick it up a notch. I’m going to contact the Feds.”Remembering my threat to Audrey, I decided to follow through withit. I would contact the FBI. No one could tell me its resourceswould be too limited.

“Sounds like a good idea,Paul. Good luck, and let me know what happens.”

“I will,” I agreed, andhung up the phone wondering how to initiate such a call. Did theFBI even have a number in the phone book?

As it turns out, they did.I called the Miami office of the FBI and the receptionist connectedme with their West Palm Beach branch. While I waited for the callto connect, I actually felt nervous. This wasn’t some simple callto a private investigator or local cop, this was the Federal Bureauof Investigation. I had no idea how I would be received or whatmight transpire. After a few rings, however, a man identifyinghimself only as Toby answered the phone. Taken aback by the casualgreeting, I asked him if he was an agent and he confirmed that hewas. With that, I gave him a short synopsis of my reason forcalling and he asked me to come to the West Palm Beach office tolay out the complete story. I did exactly that the followingday.

Walking into the officesof the FBI isn’t something to be taken lightly. Considering thepower, the knowledge, and the control represented by thoseinitials, the idea that I might simply saunter in and share a storywith an agent seemed surreal. Would they think I was wasting theirtime? Would they start a file on me? Was there already a file on me?Entering through the large, metal double doors, I was quicklyprovided with an answer.

The face staring back atme was pure evil. Vacuous eyes, a heavy beard framing a long face,and a slightly smiling expression that was as penetrating as it washaunting. I had seen him plenty of times before, but never quite inthis way. His image, larger than life, hung high on a wall with #1labeled above him in large bold letters. Osama Bin Laden had beenon the FBI’s Top Ten Most Wanted List since 1999, and was now the#1 Most Wanted Terrorist. Looking at him, I figured the FBI hadbigger fish to fry, and I was too insignificant, too honest towarrant their attention, so my heart rate returned, almost, tonormal.

“Mr. Goldman?” the voicejarred me from my concentration on the wanted poster. Standing infront of me were two men.

“Yes,” I answered, thrownoff by their all-business expressions. Their shirts were taut,their ties were straight, and their eyes were very intense. Theirhandshakes were firm. Very firm.

“I am agent Toby Portman.We spoke on the phone yesterday. This is Agent Jones, from our‘securities fraud’ unit. Let’s go into this interview room overhere.” He pointed to a nearby, windowless door. I silently followedtheir lead into the room and waited for a directive from them whereI should sit.

I had with me the phone logs and my analysisand, while I spread them out over the table as I had done with bothSergeant Kowalski and Agent Hunter before, I began my long,detailed story of how I came to know the true Audrey. In contrastto the other two occasions, however, neither men took notes, nordid they take their eyes off me for more than a moment at anytime.

“Do you have any proofthat she takes money for sex?” Agent Portman asked directly,disregarding the countless papers before him.

“Yes, Ido,” I said, somewhat defensively. “On Friday night, November2nd, my private eyefollowed Audrey to the HorsehoeClub, and overheard a conversation whereher pimp Royce Rocco told a prospective customer to offer her $250and see if she'd take it. Audrey and this man then danced, and leftthe nightclub together.”

This seemed to satisfy theagents. They finally took their eyes off me, and began to intentlystudy the paperwork. They asked me if I knew anything aboutoperations in other states. I gave them the phone logs of Audrey’stwo Chicago trips, and I showed them the number of a contact guy inNew York, Vinny Rivera. Audrey called him at least twice eachmonth, meaning he was either a very satisfied customer or her NewYork pimp. Under the circumstances, I decided not to mention thatthe source of this particular information was my psychic, TerriLynn.

While I spoke, Agent Portman wrote on a“complaint form” that there were two local pimps, Royce Rocco andTony Sawgrass, as well as pimps in New York and Chicago. The entireinterview lasted about an hour, at the end of which Agent Jones,who’d been silent for most of the meeting, spoke up.

“We will make Royce talk,”was all he said. His firm statement made me believe him, though Iwas curious how.

“How?” I asked. “Hecertainly will lie to you.” Images of good cop/ bad cop, intense,long inquiries, and sleep deprivation filled my head. What wasreally involved in leaning on someone?

“He’ll be facingsignificant prison time. He’ll talk,” he stated tersely. “We’llalso interview the local tricks, and they’ll talk. We’ll have ourassociates in New York and Chicago interview those pimps, andthey’ll talk too.”

I stared back at him, notsure what else to say. It was clear that this was no longermy investigation. “Thiswoman must be stopped,” Agent Jones added, leaning in toward me toemphasize his seriousness. “There are children involved.” I noddedin agreement as a shiver ran up my back. I was pleased that theyunderstood all the ramifications of Audrey being a hooker. “Also,”he continued, “if the ring is paying off cops in Spencer County,this is very serious. I honestly wish I wasn’t in the securitiesdivision, because I’d like to take on this case personally.Besides, with all the work you’ve done, this case is already halfmade.” He looked over at Agent Porter, who noddedslightly.

“Would you please tellme,” I asked both agents, placing both of my palms on the arms ofthe chair for balance, “what is your professional opinion of thelocal cops?”

Their Cheshire grins gave me my answer, butthey said nothing. Agent Portman completed his complaint form andlooked up at me.

“Mr. Goldman, our nextstep is to give this complaint, along with your