John and the Herodians - From the What a Strange Little Man Series (Chapter 4, page 1 of 3)

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Chapter 4

We all arrived at the door as Woody opened it for the investigator. He was a tall, thin man, clean shaven with short brown hair. He was wearing a blue suit that appeared to be tailor made for him. He stood there holding his picture identification in a manner that we could all see it.

"Come in, sir," Woody said respectfully.

"Thank you," He said.

"Can I get you some coffee?" Woody asked.

"No thanks, I just want to get this done so I can go back home," He said.

It was obvious he didn't want to be here, but like so many of us, rules dictate our priorities.

"What can I do for you?" Woody asked.

"I have been sent to investigate your find," He said.

"Follow me," Woody said.

He led us back to the big room from where we had just come. Mr. Ryan inspected John closely, took out a little notebook, and made few notes. He seemed as captivated by his eyes as I was, but made a meticulous inspection of his clothing, hair, sandals, and the peculiar medallion around his neck. He then turned to address us.

"I guess the only thing left is for you to predict when he might be ready for questioning," Mr. Ryan said.

"I really can't say. We've not had much success with cryogenics. I'll contact you as soon as any change occurs," Woody said.

"So you think it's cryogenics?" Mr. Ryan asked.

"I can't think of any other explanation at this point," Woody answered.

For some reason, I felt uneasy with Mr. Ryan. I couldn't quite put my finger on it, but there was something suspicious about the man.

"May I see your identification again?" I asked.

I was hoping my years of experience would help me determine if Mr. Ryan was really who he said he was. I was not disappointed. He held his picture I.D. up for me to see. Upon closer investigation I noticed a shadow on the bottom right edge of his photograph.

"Thank you," I said, "You never can be too careful these days."

"I suppose not," Mr. Ryan said as he handed a card to Woody and made his way to the front door.

Woody followed him as a cordial host would, and wished him a good night. He then called us back to the kitchen.

"The man is not who he says he is," I said quietly.

"How do you know?" Tom asked.

"I wouldn't be as successful as I am if I didn't notice things like this," I retorted.

"What gave him away?" Mary asked.

"He had pasted his picture over another one. The I.D. was fake," I said.

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