And so we’d go back and forth until finally I’d storm out of her apartment and live on my own for a few days. Do laundry, collect mail, pay bills. Stuff like that.
Fact is, maybe Rita’s right. Maybe I don’t present as nice a mug to the world as I think I do. I seem to recall making a point of being nice, especially while I worked in the telecom industry. But a lot of good that did me. Then the HR personnel took me out. After that, I was less inclined to be nice. Then Adeleine died and it’s only gotten worse. I get surly with the gas station clerk for no reason. I honk my horn at poor drivers and pedestrians that get in the way. The other day I blew my horn at a lady pushing her baby stroller. She was pushing the stroller through the intersection while talking on her phone. She didn’t seem to be in any hurry getting through the intersection.
I told her to go fuck herself and her baby too, and I flipped her the bird as I sped by.
Now I see it wasn’t such a nice thing to say. I regret having said it. I don’t wish any misfortune upon that woman or her baby. Having lived through some misfortune myself, I wouldn’t wish hurt upon anyone in the world.
?
Now you’re feeling sorry for yourself.
No I’m not.
Yes you are.
Blurt. Blurt.
Pop. Pop. Pop.
?
I never told Adeleine this, but I never used a gun in my job. I suppose that made me just as righteous as that stripper and her bouncer, but Adeleine made such a fuss over this aspect of the job that I decided it would be better to try and do business without one. I soon learned that best practice was not to carry a gun or any type of official ID. It was better to blend in and be as normal as possible. What’s more, the sorts of cases I did were all small potato cases. Nothing very interesting. I most often worked in conjunction with a couple of divorce lawyers—they’d send me off to ask questions of people. My job, more often than not, was to establish an informal back-channel line of conversation to find out what was negotiable and what was not negotiable.
In some cases, the legal warfare between divorcing spouses would escalate so rapidly that I was called to try and defuse the tension. I’d often meet one or the other or both of the competing spouses and I’d try and help them see things in a more reasonable light. Again, my goal was to try and defuse tension, particularly in an escalating conflict. I always tried to meet the husband or the wife in a neutral and calming public place. I’d meet these people, and I’d try and use the only tool I really had, the gift of gab. I had a long-standing conviction that a reasonable solution could always be arrived at through talk, and as a result that expensive litigation could be avoided.
Sometimes I was successful at this sort of thing. Folks naturally found me to be approachable and reasonable. I had empathy for everyone I dealt with. I assume that everyone, except in very rare cases, is at heart a good actor. Let’s face it, no one really wants to have to confront divorce head-on, especially when children are involved. So in my conversations I would point to ways around the stress, the turmoil, and in many cases the heartbreaking tragedy of volatile divorce proceedings. Let’s everyone try and be reasonable here. If we’re reasonable now, we all can get on with our lives. In divorce there will inevitably be harm and foul, but of course the shrapnel that comes from divorce can maim everyone, including the kids. A little effort working behind the scenes can reduce that shrapnel, so let’s talk it out. Let’s talk about a pathway that makes sense for everyone, including you…
I was naturally pretty good at this type of work. My method was to wing it. I was always winging it. I felt I was always talking off the cuff and hoping for the best. Occasionally I tried to imagine that I was on the receiving end of a divorce proceeding, and how painful that would be for me. It was this thinking that guided me in conversations with estranged spouses. I tried to be gentle as a lamb with them, and respectful. To me, they had just found themselves on the wrong side of luck. For one reason or another, love, which had maybe once sprung true and beautiful, had turned south on them. I understood the hurt, the anger. And maybe this is why I kept getting called to participate in these sorts of cases. But these cases never paid much, and there weren’t enough of them to build a sustainable business on. At the end of the day, a lot of people preferred all-out warfare in divorce proceedings, shrapnel and children be damned.
?
Adolph Meyer and I got together for the interview in a neutral place—a café of his choice on the north side—and I asked him a few questions about what was prompting the divorce. He claimed he didn’t want the divorce. It was his wife who insisted on getting divorced. He was happy in love with her.
I asked him several standard questions: Did you have any affairs? Did you sign a prenup agreement? Are you going to seek custody of the children?
After a while of asking questions, he told me point blank: What you don’t seem to understand…
Hold on, I told him. I turned on my recorder and got out a pen and paper.
What you don’t seem to understand, detective…
Yes. Go ahead.
Is that it’s guys like you who are ruining this country.
Oh yes? How so?
Guys like you. Leeches. You feed off of the misery of others. You make your living off guys like me.
I’m a detective, I pointed out. I’m a neutral party.
You’re not neutral. You feed off of others’ misfortune. Do you know, if this marriage of mine falls apart, I’m done for. I can’t bear the thought of losing my wife.
If your marriage falls apart it is the fault of you and your wife.
You’re dead wrong there, detective. It’s the fault of leeches like you and that dirty lawyer of hers. What’s her lawyer doing getting involved in a case like this? Money. It’s all greed. My wife and I, we have a perfectly normal relationship. But the lawyer doesn’t care. You and the lawyer are only interested in one outcome.
Sir, I pointed out. I’m only doing my job. I have nothing against you or your wife. I don’t know who either of you are. I don’t even know the case.
The case is, he interrupted. The case is my wife is seeking to divorce me for no reason whatsoever.
Surely there’s a reason.
There is no reason, detective. She’s unhappy, is all. Is being unhappy grounds for a divorce? ‘Til death do us part…that was the agreement she signed on for. We have five kids. You don’t divorce your husband because you’re unhappy.