3

WHEN IS A “LIE” NOT A LIE?

In your quest for personal privacy, again and again you will come up against questions like these:

• What is your name?

• What is your home telephone number?

• What is your street address?

• What is your date of birth?

• What is your Social Security number?

Also, if you are (for example) a husband and father who is determined to keep the family’s private affairs private, be prepared for questions like these:

Wife: What? You want me to lie?

Child: Daddy, did you just tell a lie?

Parents: What do you mean, we can’t tell anyone where you really live? You want us to lie, son?

Since lying is a moral issue, and since morality is basically a religious issue, I am going to cite the exact words from a small religious magazine I read back in 1954. It was published by the International Bible Students Association, and since it answered a question I had long wondered about, I memorized this sentence word for word:

A LIE is a false statement made by one to another, who is entitled to hear and know the truth, and which false statement tends toward injury to the other.

This is the only definition of a lie I’ve ever read that covers untrue statements made by the biblical characters Abraham, Sarah, Isaac, David, Jonathan, and Rahab. Did they disgrace themselves as liars by their caution? Not according to the above definition.

You, dear reader, must make your own evaluation … and accept the responsibility. What I have to say here is about decisions I myself have made. Although they are presented merely as guidelines for your meditation, I recommend them. For example:

1. Where no harm will be done, and no sworn oath is involved, I often give incorrect information. So does my wife.

2. I never give incorrect information if I am to sign a sworn statement, whether or not before a notary.

3. I may withhold information from the police or from government representative but I won’t lie to them.

4. Under no condition whatsoever will I file a false tax return.

Here is an example of 1, above. When I open a new e-mail account, I know that the instructions call for me to enter my true name, address, etc. However, since I do not plan to defraud anyone, I list anything but the true facts. At other times, I am asked my date of birth. Although it is listed correctly on my driver’s license and on my passport, elsewhere the date ranges from January 1, 1926, to December 31, 1935.

Here is an example of 2: I was recently in Vancouver, British Columbia, planning to buy a cell phone scanner and bring it into the United States. (They are legal in Canada, but illegal in the United States) Since I was not prepared to hide this purchase from the U.S. customs office, I planned to ship it over the border via UPS. The manager of the electronics store brought out a form and suggested “we” could list the scanner as something else. However, when I read the customs form, I saw that I would have to sign a sworn statement that the above description was true. No sale.

Example of 3: As I was reviewing this chapter, I was stopped by a cop in State A. My SUV has State A license plates, but my driver’s license is from State B. The registration shows a New Mexico LLC with an address in Spain. The license plate holder reads “Arrecife de Lanzarote” on top, and “Canary Islands, Spain” on the bottom. The cop said he’d stopped me because I made a left turn into a far lane, and for not wearing a seatbelt. He took my license, walked back to his patrol car, and checked both the DL and the plates. (My last ticket had been about twelve years ago, for speeding.) When he returned, he made no mention of the LLC, nor its foreign address.

Cop: Do you live here in [State A] now? (Referring to the DL from State B.)

Me: “I travel back and forth.” (Correct, but I withheld the additional information that I only return to State B when it’s time to renew my driver’s license in person, which is once every eight years.)

I also confess to withholding information in other ways. If I run a small business out of my home, I neglect to get a business license. If I move, I neglect to inform the postal authorities. If asked for information when obtaining an e-mail address, I fail to list my true name and home address. You, the reader, have three choices:

1. You can follow the pattern I have set.

2. You can tell no untruth under any circumstance.

3. You can lie about everything and sign anything, true or not.

In the chapters to come, I will assume you have chosen option 1. From time to time I may add a suggestion for those of you who stick with option 2. As for any who go for option 3, I’d truly appreciate it if you’d take this book back to the store and demand a refund of your money. This is not your kind of book.

PIS AND TRUE LIES

Now we come to the gray area—the hiring of a private investigator (PI). The shades of gray vary from light to just a millimeter above inky black. The PIs call it “pretexting” but you and I know what it really is, and if you hire him, are you not responsible for what he does?

EXAMPLE OF HOW PRETEXTING WORKS

For a brief time, Karl and Lorelei are lovers. When Karl turns violent, Lorelei walks out. Karl stalks her. She read this same book you are reading and follows the advice by moving away and changing everything. She also picks up a double barrel shotgun. When Karl discovers Lorelei has dropped out of sight, he vows that if he cannot have her, then no one else will have her, either. He buys a used handgun, makes his plans, and then goes to Guido. Guido has a reputation for tracking down anyone, anywhere, anytime.

Karl gives Guido a made-up sob story and the PI accepts it. He takes a hefty retainer from Karl and writes down the four pieces of information that Karl gives him: her full name, Social Security number, former address, and the name of a hospital where she was once briefly admitted.

The PI promises Karl results within twenty-four hours. Actually, Guido will have Lorelei’s new address in less than sixty minutes, obtained with just two short “pretext” telephone calls. The first is to Plano General Hospital.

PGH: Hello, please hold. Long pause.

PGH: Plano General Hospital, may I help you?

Guido: Yes, this is John, with Dr. Childress’s office in McKinney, and I’m processing some insurance forms for Lorelei Altbusser. Could you pull that file for me? I need the date of admission.

PGH: Do you have her Social Security number?

Guido: Let’s see [makes sound of papers shuffling]. Yeah, it’s 987-65-4325.

PGH: Okay, please hold for a minute while I get the file. [Pause.]

PGH: Okay, got it. She was admitted 10-10-2011.

Guido: What was the complaint?

PGH: Looks like persistent pains following a recent abortion.

Guido: Does it indicate any treatment?

PGH: Looks like there was a prescription, was all.

Guido: Well, thanks for the help, and—oh, one more thing. On the form she filled out, does it list her mother’s name as Mary Altbusser, with telephone 344-1288?

PGH: No, her admittance form lists next-of-kin as Gertrude Altbusser at 478-1991.

Guido: Muchas gracias, and have a nice day.

Next, the PI calls 478-1991 because he figures Lorelei keeps in contact with her mother. Once again, he represents himself as a doctor.

Guido: Gertrude Altbusser, please.

Mother: Yes, this is she.

Guido: Mrs. Altbusser, this is Dr. Noe at the Cook County Morgue. We have a body here that’s been tentatively identified as a Lorelei Altbusser. Do you have a daughter by that name?

Mother: Oh, my God! Oh no! Oh God!

Guido: Mrs. Altbusser, is your daughter an African-American?

Mother: No, no, my daughter is white!

[Guido’s reason for whipsawing this poor woman back and forth is to inject her with truth serum. Now she will tell him what he wants to know.]

Guido: Mrs. Altbusser, how do you explain this dead black girl having your daughter’s driver’s license?

Mother: I don’t know. Maybe Lorelei’s purse was stolen?

Guido: Mrs. Altbusser, when’s the last time you spoke with your daughter?

Mother: I talked to her last Sunday. She’s a good girl, she calls me every Sunday.

Guido: Mrs. Altbusser, it’s very important we speak with your daughter on this matter without delay. How can I get in touch with her immediately?

Mother: She’s living in Odessa now, and doesn’t have a phone in her apartment. She works at a Circle K on Central Drive. I could give you that number.…

Guido: Yes, please give it to me now, ma’am.

Mother: It’s 960-362-0464.

Guido: Thank you, Mrs. Altbusser.

Author’s Note: When hearing the lie about a dead body, mothers often get hysterical. One PI, writing about this routine, says, “I’ve heard of cases where the mother has literally dropped the phone in midsentence and raced over to the County Morgue!”

PRIVATE INVESTIGATORS—FRIENDS OR FOES?

In the foregoing example, from Lorelei’s viewpoint, the PI was just a miserable liar-for-hire who should have checked Karl’s story out before taking the job. When Karl breaks into her home with a gun, we all hope she lets him have it with both barrels to the belly. But now, let’s change the context. Suppose the one who goes to the PI is you, and this time the PI is Paulo, Guido’s brother. Paulo is just like Guido except that before he takes the case, he verifies your story.

Your rebellious fourteen-year-old daughter has just run away from home with some guy from Chicago named Armen Bedrosian who is in his thirties. You call the Cook County Police, but all you get is a runaround. You go to Paulo. After checking you out, he takes the case. A quick check with his database accounts on the Internet show that Armen is an ex-con who was jailed in his teens for rape and attempted murder. He’s been back on the streets for only two months. The PI tracks Armen down by first locating his mother. He calls her.

“Mrs. Bedrosian, this is Dr. Noe at the Cook County Morgue. We have a body here that’s been tentatively identified as Armen Bedrosian. Do you have a son by that name…?”

Even if the PI had to resort to pretexts in order to save your underage daughter, will you nevertheless not thank him to the end of your days?