Chapter 9: Summer

Boston in the summer is a wonderful place to be. I was feeling full of love and gratitude as I jogged along the wide sidewalk on the Cambridge side of the Charles River I chuckled because the river was named in honor of King Charles I in 1614. The previous summer, the coronation of King Charles III had taken place. Different king and different era, yet neither king seemed to have been liked all that much.

I cut across the river by the Harvard Bridge, and started back on the Boston side. I completed the ten-mile run running seven-minute miles. Not bad.

Taylor and Charlotte both pointed for me to go immediately to the bathroom for a shower. I obeyed. Happy wife, happy life, and that applied doubly so with two wives. We weren’t married, but we were acting like it, at least physically and romantically.

As part of our collective New Year’s Resolutions, we decided that Monday and Thursday evenings, possibly including dinner, were our discussion nights. Our talks were to address some feature of our burgeoning threesome with the goal of drawing us closer together and adjusting expectations. We made a list of the many agenda items that we should talk about, wrote each on a slip of paper, folded each, and put them in a bowl. New ones could also be added, or even preemptively put on our agenda. We’d mix them up and one of us would draw the topics for the evening or even for the week or more, if it was a complex topic.

The first topic that we talked about started in the second week of January was family planning. That term was short-hand for how many kids, if any, and then about child rearing.

I’d had a generally absent or uncaring or unmotivated father, so I was swayed highly in the other direction. I not only wanted children, I wanted to be significantly involved in their rearing and steering. We talked about my own experiences, and then I heard how both Don and Faye had been involved in raising the twins.

The conclusion was that as a family we wanted up to four children – possibly two each for Taylor and Charlotte. There was a lot of discussion about raising them in the rapidly down-turning climate and political environment. We also discussed the when to start a family, and decided that we’d do five years without kids and then change over to the other family model.

The family planning discussion led to talking about living quarters and even school systems. Each of us thought that we should move to the suburbs to a house to raise any children. That discussion suggested that we keep our eyes and ears open for any good real estate deals, initially without active searching.

The next topic of conversation was meatier for us: conflict resolution. As we started talking, I printed off three copies of the conflict resolution strategies matrix, so that led to us talking about the five possibilities: avoiding, accommodating, competing, collaborating, and compromising.

That discussion led the three of us to thinking styles. The three of us seemed to be balanced between problem-solving, critical-thinking, and creative-thinking skills. In terms of our relationship, I seemed more analytic and structured. This was interesting because Charlotte had to use those skills all day in her job. I had to be a little more creative in how to approach various aspects of my job. Taylor was in-between.

I liked to toss out possible scenarios for our contemplation, plus I could often have a wild imagination. We decided we each had to think up a conflict situation and present it one of the others for consideration. Our seating arrangement, meant that I had to give Charlotte a situation within the next twenty-four hours.

I thought up a story where the three of us were out dancing as we’d done on New Year’s Eve, but she became enthralled with one of the young men that asked her to dance – so much so, that she went off with him for the rest of the night. She had to think about how Taylor and I would think about that, and what we’d do.

Taylor gave me a situation where she was in a car accident when she was home visiting her parents. She wanted to see how her spouses – Charlotte and I would handle that.

Charlotte gave Taylor the situation of a social party at work where she was expected to bring her ‘significant other’. She wanted us to think about how we’d react to that situation. I actually knew that we’d be facing exactly that situation in about a month when my company would hold their summer barbecue for all staff and their families. I planned on bringing both of them; not even an issue in my head.

Our response to the latter situation was to talk to the host ahead of time for guidance. We could also opt to not go, or go as a full family. I would only go for the last option.

The car accident four-hundred miles from home provoked more creative responses. I was able to argue that I could be there for her, despite her parents’ proximity, because so much of my work could be done remotely. That made me think about why I actually went into the office as much as I did. Hmmmmm.

Charlotte would have trouble being away from her new job, but would invoke the firm’s family emergency policy, so that she could be away for an extended period of time.

My ‘cheating’ situation for Charlotte resulted in all of us vowing to not put ourselves in harm’s way, first by not drinking so much that we made bad decisions. We also made a pledge of fidelity to each other that would limit our roaming to family only. None of us wanted to fracture the relationship we had with the other two.

I reminded the girls that I was more likely to be the one propositioned by one of my old fuck buddies. I asked to be taken into ‘protective custody’ if it looked like such a situation was emerging. I reminded them of Marcia’s come-on at New Years.

The following week we didn’t draw out of the hat, but we did talk about the traditional vows in a marriage, how to discipline children, coping with kiddie temper tantrums, birth control (Would I ever consider a vasectomy?), and career advancement.

The last part of that inspired me to go see Harrison the following Monday. Basically, I asked him what I could do to promote myself in the company and to earn more money. He seemed to know that I was serious about Taylor and even here sister. That was a surprise, but I was hardly surprised knowing the kind of stuff that our company did.

Harrison asked, “We can try you more regularly on some of our external data collection situations. If a few of those work out, I’m willing to split your time with what you’re doing and the P.I. side of our business. You’ll have to get licensed.”

I accepted the deal. I checked on the qualifications for a private investigator license. I needed certification from three reputable citizens of the state who’d known me for over three years, and never been convicted of a felony. That was easy. I got letters from Harrison, Jay Stark – my college friend and landlord, and Charlotte Reeves of Fidelity Investments on letterhead. I filed those with the state police with $100, and a month later I had my license.

I also signed up for twice-a-week martial arts training. I exercised and could run better than most people, but I had not been a fighter. Harrison volunteered that the company would pay for six months of my self-defence classes.

The classes were Tuesday evening and Saturday morning. After ten of them, I finally felt that I was making some progress. I wasn’t spending as much time on the mats as I had to start with.

With my P.I. license in hand and a modicum of self-defence skills, Harrison assigned me to a simple surveillance case – possible cheating wife, follow, take pictures, etc. His last admonishment to me was, “And stay out of trouble.”

Surveillance mostly involved hours of being bored, yet trying to remain vigilant to catch thirty-seconds of possibly incriminating activities. My mark was named Carol. Eventually, I called her Careless Carol. She was probably cocksure that her husband had no clue she was stepping out on him, and was self-assured that no one would ever follow her. I also knew that a pre-nup was involved.

Follow her, I did; and I got really lucky. Carol drove from her house in Lexington, to another in Wilmington, Massachusetts. I’d tagged her car with a tracker, so I didn’t even need to be right behind her as she drove – a sure-fire way to get spotted. She was just getting out of her car when I drove past the house she was visiting. I had been ignored, so I parked and pulled out the telephoto camera. I got several shots as a guy about her age welcomed her into the house. They started a kiss just before the door closed all the way.

I kept the camera focused on the house, particularly the windows. My luck not only held, it became extraordinary. Five minutes later, I caught some motion in one of the upstairs windows. Carol stepped in front of the darkened window and she was naked. My pictures started clicking off at the rate of four per second, plus hi-res video was also being recorded. My big success was when the man – also naked – stepped up behind her and surrounded her body with his hands until he was holding her breasts as he nuzzled and kissed into her neck.

Carol turned and the pair crushed their nude bodies together in a passionate embrace. The pair then left the window, probably for the bed in the room. I gave them a few more minutes, but there no further sign of activity.

I made a slow walk past Carol’s car and retrieved the tracker, and then drove back to the office. I established the identity of the man in the house quite easily from the license plate on the car in the driveway and as the owner of the house that Carol had entered.

I compiled a report detailing the surveillance and what I saw and photographed. Some of the pictures were attached after I printed them out. Of course, I indicated that I had other corroborating photos as well as related video that also showed the couple at the window.

Copies were made, and the next day at nine a.m., I met with Carol’s husband – or future ex-husband. He seemed pleased with our work. Harrison was there for the meeting. I walked the man through the report and he left. I can’t say he was a happy man, but he was a satisfied man. His instincts had been proven accurate.

Harrison gave me another surveillance operation, this one trailing a possibly errant husband. I read through the dossier and then did my own research over the Internet. After some stealth research I had his credit cards and bank information, so I went there for the details that his wife apparently didn’t have access to. I also got other photos of him beyond what had been in his folder.

Clive Livingston was well off, but if he cheated, he lost access to the source of his well-being – his wife’s money. He was a partner in a large law firm, and based on his American Express account, he entertained a lot, mostly lunches and dinners at some of Boston’s nicer restaurants.

Clive’s Visa account, however, contained routine charges at just about every mid-priced hotel in Boston. I mapped them out looking for a pattern and found one. He rotated through four of them. Wednesdays seemed to be his favorite time. I speculated that he’d be at the Onyx Hotel the next day.

One-hundred dollars well spent with the desk clerk, and she told me that he was a ‘monthly regular’ that checked in around mid-day for one night. I thanked her and left her my new business card. She knew what was going on and I had a new friend that appreciated the C-note.

I staked out the lobby the next morning starting about eleven a.m. I had my cellphone set for high-resolution photos and videos. I got lucky again. Clive and an unknown woman came into the registration area just after noon. I was taking photos and video, but not looking directly at the couple, or Clive as he registered and prepaid for the room. Despite the lack of significant luggage beyond briefcases, the couple disappeared in the elevator. I maintained my surveillance from a new seat into the afternoon, moving to where I could see the elevators better. I also put on a wind-breaker and baseball hat so that I looked somewhat different.