Yasmin Afshar

 

The Unfaithful Picture

 

Initially, I set out to observe Parker and to wait for the right moment in order to show him up. But, as often happens, things take a different course whilst you pursue your own strategy. As you will see, I am now aware of what has happened to me, however, I am still surprised about how it happened.

 In order to explain to you what happened to me on that winter morning, I have to tell you how everything began. As usual, I was working in my office when the telephone rang and a thin and nervous voice spoke to me. Her name was Maggie Parker and she told me she had a story of great importance for me. With my journalist’s instinct I was naturally bursting with curiosity and at the same time wondering if it wasn’t just another hoax. People who are lonely and feel the need to talk to someone often call the newspapers and what they tell you then is that Kitty hasn’t eaten her food for a week now or that they witnessed a crime that hasn’t even happened. Probably, people don’t notice what they are doing. However, unconsciously drawing attention to themselves is often the only way in which those people can manage to talk about their situation to their fellow human beings.  But this call was different, I said to myself, when I left to meet Mrs. Parker in a café near Union Station. She wore an exuberant dress in which she looked a little too small, almost lost. But her eyes spoke of strong determination and maybe that was why I paid attention to what she had to say. When she started to tell me about “the case” my thoughts went floating off immediately.

“The case I wanted to talk about with you is of high importance. I demand your promise that nothing discussed here is going to be repeated elsewhere.” I thought her a bit naïve to demand secrecy from a reporter.

“Yes, Mam. You have my word,” I replied, and before I could say anything else she started to give me a short version of her biography.

“You must know that I have always loved my husband. But somehow life has come between us and today I no longer feel any attachment or any sincerity in his feelings towards me. I also doubt whether he is always honest with me, and I furthermore suspect that he has a lover in another city,” she finally ended.

“That’s truly a very sad and complicated situation you are in, Madam. But how can I help you with that “case”? I don’t even know who you and your husband are.” “Oh, yes you do, Mr. Cho. I’m sure you do.”

When she mentioned Parker’s full name to me I of course wondered why I hadn’t realized earlier on that the whole story had something to do with the city’s most successful and notorious lawyer. I would have been stupid not to believe her and leave the story to someone else, for a matter like this was still a huge scandal back then. So I kept listening to Maggie Parker’s account and the more she talked, the more I grew convinced that I was the one about to expose a huge secret affair, the dubious double life of Piedmont Parker, a person said to be as slippery as an eel. Thus, I agreed to observe Parker, for there needed to be plain evidence of the affair before we could go public with the case. A photograph – something that spoke the truth.

 Most of the time, however, Parker stayed in his office. Maggie had warned me of that and I gradually found the strangest excuses why I didn’t show up at work. This went on for a week. Then I was fired. However, I kept believing that as soon as I managed to expose Parker’s secret my boss would beg me to accept his apologies. For two more weeks nothing happened except for Parker driving to work and back home. I was starting to doubt Maggie’s story when suddenly there was a development. One night (I had just come back from a day of the now customary observation) Maggie called to tell me that her husband was purporting to go on a business trip the next day. What a fortunate coincidence that her phone call reached me, I thought. The following morning was a terribly cold winter morning and the streets were so deserted that I almost thought the sky would fall down on me. I was waiting in front of Parker’s house. When Parker stepped out of the front door at 9 am sharp, I was close at his heels again. He waved his good-byes towards the door and looked happy and relieved in doing so. “What a hypocrite,” I thought. “He seems to be enjoying the double-sided game he’s playing.”

We reached Union Station only five minutes later. Parker stepped out of the taxi, put his hat on, and pretended to wait for someone, checking his watch from time to time. I was sure he was going to take the next train to New York for I was almost certain he would seek his adventure in a bigger city than Washington. Instead, I was surprised by what happened next: A woman approached Parker, gave him a kiss and handed him an envelope. There it was – the scene I had been waiting for for so long. The two of them were hugging and kissing each other. Then they parted. Again he waved good-bye with his hat. That woman was certainly not Maggie. A knowing, maybe even spiteful smile must have escaped my lips at that moment.

I had photographed every detail. After I had the photos developed at home I went to see my boss the next day. Beaming with pride and expecting to show him that I was a real catch I told him the story of how I came to witness the infidelity of Washington’s darling. He stared at me and said: “Cho, you must be kidding me. This is Parker’s wife. Why do you make up such nonsense? Just to get some attention? Tell me, when are you going to forget about that girl? She is not going to come back to you. She has cheated on you, Cho!”

There was no way of explaining myself. I had neither a telephone number nor an address of my caller. This was when I started to understand…