Chapter 4 - THE WOMAN
I learned almost nothing about the woman from Duncan.
That was deliberate.
Her name appeared in contacts under an initial.
The shared-tablet messages were partial.
Deleted threads had not synced.
I did not hack anything.
I turned over the tablet because it was joint household property and already logged into a shared account.
The forensic examiner preserved what was there.
Messages showed a relationship lasting at least ten months.
Did she know he was married?
Yes.
Did she know I was pregnant?
Yes.
Did she want me harmed?
Nothing suggested that.
Important.
Her messages were often angry with him.
WOMAN:
You told me separation was already happening.
DUNCAN:
It is.
WOMAN:
She’s eight months pregnant and posting family photos.
DUNCAN:
Image management.
WOMAN:
I’m done waiting.
DUNCAN:
Give me until the baby issue resolves.
Then later:
WOMAN:
If by “resolves” you mean something bad happens to her pregnancy, don’t ever contact me again.
DUNCAN:
Don’t be dramatic.
That message mattered.
It showed even she heard something wrong.
But it did not prove what he meant.
Then:
DUNCAN:
I mean once there’s no custody nightmare.
WOMAN:
There will be custody if there’s a baby.
No response.
Had Duncan wanted the baby “gone” through miscarriage?
My statement said he used that language.
His messages were ambiguous.
The slap and fall made it more frightening.
The prosecutor would decide charges based on evidence.
I refused to turn uncertainty into certainty because I hated him.
Then the woman contacted my attorney voluntarily.
No media.
No money demand.
She wanted to give information.
We met with her lawyer present.
I expected jealousy.
Got shame.
“I didn’t know he was still living with you as a husband.”
I almost laughed.
“You knew I was pregnant.”
“Yes.”
“How did you imagine that worked?”
“He said the pregnancy was unexpected and you two were separating privately.”
I stared.
She looked down.
“I wanted to believe him.”
There.
Human.
“What did he promise?”
“That once the legal side was clean, we’d marry.”
“Where?”
She hesitated.
“The house.”
Of course.
“He told you it was his?”
“He said it was marital and you couldn’t keep it.”
“The cars?”
“He said he would keep the SUV.”
“The money?”
“He told me he’d have at least twenty million after divorce.”
There.
Duncan was not merely threatening me.
He was selling someone a future built from assets he knew he didn’t own.
She continued.
“He also said he was buying into a development company.”
“With what money?”
“I thought his.”
“Did he ever mention a loan?”
“Yes.”
My stomach tightened.
“How much?”
“Eight million.”
The exact private credit facility.
“What was it for?”
“Finishing a waterfront redevelopment.”
“Was he personally responsible?”
“He said the deal would pay him thirty million when it sold.”
Potential motive.
Then:
“Did he say anything about the baby?”
Her eyes filled.
“Three weeks ago he said, ‘If there’s no baby, there’s no custody leverage.’ I told him that sounded disgusting.”
I felt cold.
“What did he mean?”
“He said he was talking about legal complications.”
“Did he ever say he would hurt me?”
“No.”
“Ask someone else to?”
“No.”
Important.
She looked at me.
“I’m sorry.”
Not enough.
Not nothing.
Then she slid her phone across the table.
One message from Duncan the morning of the assault.
DUNCAN:
Tonight I force the split. Tomorrow everything starts moving.
WOMAN:
Don’t do something insane.
DUNCAN:
I know exactly what I’m doing.
He did not.
May you like
But he believed he did.
That made him dangerous in a different way.
