Duplicity - A True Story of Crime and Deceit Paul Goldman (the mitten read aloud .txt) 📖

time?” My voice may have said I was fine, and I may haveeven tried to believe it myself, but there was nothing fine aboutme, and Bob knew it too.

“Not at all. What’s onyour mind?”

“Well, actually, I’m notcompletely fine. I mean, I’ve just been to see my attorney and hegave me copies of Audrey’s cell phone records. So, I started tolook through them… ” When I began to talk I became keenly aware ofthe fact that I was talking quickly, like I needed to geteverything out before I lost control, or lost my mind, or both.“And there’s this one number that she calls all day long. I thoughtit could be her boyfriend, which made me wonder how long they’vebeen together. So, I went backwards in the logs, all the way back,to our wedding day, and she called this guy even on that day. Andnot just once. She called him throughout the day, and even threetimes in the middle of the night when I was asleep, after our, youknow, wedding night activities. So, I put the guy’s number throughGoogle and some website came up with him selling a boat, and Idon’t know... ” I stopped myself. I had to catch my breath. Thewords were tumbling out, belying any attempt I might have made totry and seem fine.

“Oh, I’m not sure… Royce.His name is Royce. Do you know anyone by the name of Royce?” I spathis name out and was met with silence.

“I'm so sorry, Paul,” Bobsaid after a moment. Here it was; the answer I’d been looking for.Had she been having an affair throughout our entire marriage? Hadshe ever really loved me? Was my entire married life with Audrey alie?

But, as it turns out, that was the least Icould hope for.

“That’s Royce Rocco,” hecontinued, “and he’s been Audrey’s boyfriend since 2003. He was thereason I made the court order a DNA test for my son. I couldn't beentirely sure I was his father and, like you, I needed answers. I'mreally sorry, Paul, I thought she might have broken up with him, atleast during the time you two were married.”

While Bob was speaking, I began to feel anentirely new wave of emotions wash over me. Feelings of confusionand bewilderment gave way to anger and vulnerability.

I never imagined myself to be so easilyduped, and though my emotions were intensifying by the second,nothing felt more apparent to me than the realization that all thetime she was pretending to be my wife, Audrey was keeping a loveron the side.

“I guess not, Bob. I’mgoing to look into these phone logs some more and see if I can comeup with anything else. There are just so many numbers, I’m not evensure what to look for. But I'll tell you one thing. Even husbandsand wives don't call each other ten times a day. There must besomething else going on. I'll let you know what I findout.”

At that point, Johnny walked into the room,covered in mud from head to toe from what must have been a goodtime playing outside at the baby-sitter's. I heard her call up agoodbye as I motioned him to me, and he looked at the floor andwarily approached. Believing that he was about to be scolded againfor tracking mud through the house, Johnny kept his eyes avertedand, at that moment, I was completely struck by his innocence. Hissingle most significant worry was whether or not a simplepunishment resulting from play was upon him. I was overcome withemotion, with the need to protect him, and with the need to reclaimmy life for him. I pulled him close and held him longer than atypical embrace.

I wanted to hold him forever.

I reluctantly let him go, and patted him onthe butt. “Buddy, why don't you go hit the shower?” I said.

Partly confused by the unexpected show ofaffection, and partly relieved that punishment had been avoided,Johnny skipped off to clean himself up.

I turned back to the phone list before me,and started to carefully examine it. There were so many differentnumbers, but one number was repeated again and again, a mysteriousnumber with a Miami prefix. Though Royce’s number had led me to aweb page, Googling this one resulted in “number not found.”

I couldn’t stop. I neededanswers. I decided to call the number. After each ring, my breathgot shorter, my heartbeat faster. I wondered who would answer.Another boyfriend, perhaps? After fiverings, the following message played: “This is AT&T. If you havea mailbox on this system, please enter it now.”

Once again, I wasconfused. Why did Audrey need another voice mailbox when shealready had voice mail on her cell phone? It didn’t make sense, butthere it was, again and again on the list. She called Royce andthen collected her messages. Or, inversely, she retrieved hermessages and then called Royce. What was going on? At that point,between my headache and needing to make Johnny and I dinner, I tooka break.

Later that night, I started to enter all theother numbers into Google. Only about one in ten actually resultedin a name and address, but that was enough. When finished, I lookedat the list I had made. Most of these other numbers were to men.Lots of men. Hundreds of different men, with local as well asout-off-state, obviously cell phone numbers. And about a dozendifferent women. And several upscale hotels in Palm Beach.

As I looked at the list, there was also adiscernible pattern: calls to Royce, collect message, and then calleither a man, a hotel, and a girl, or just a man. Then, there wouldbe no phone activity for a couple of hours, after which the cyclewould repeat. Day after day, night after night, 365 days a year. Ontwo different occasions, calls to a dozen men in Chicago, then acall to American Airlines. Suddenly, staring at the pages ofendless numbers, the answer became undeniably clear. My breathstopped and I watched the pages begin to shake, not fully awarethat my own trembling hands were the cause. I was again strugglingto swallow but my mouth was now completely dry, and a burningsensation was creeping up my throat. It couldn’t be true,