The Cloned Identity by David Hughes

some stupidly obvious clue. It was probably staring us in the face, camouflaged by apparent insignificance, but I was sure it was there – such clues always were. I felt sure we would find it, but by then it might be too late – for me anyway.
    The next morning saw me in front of the Chief with a glowing progress report and the promise of an early arrest. I sent the others out to make yet more inquiries, while I returned to the hospital more in desperation than in hope.
    The Professor was sitting in exactly the same place as when I had left him the previous day. He looked up as I entered. I noticed that his face seemed more relaxed – dare I say, more hopeful.
    â€œHow’s it going?” I asked.
    â€œFine. I’ve done the program and I’m almost ready to start the conversion process.”
    â€œReally?” I said with a renewed interest.
    â€œYes. I found two sets of data which indicate a traumatic event.”
    â€œTwo sets?” I repeated. “Does that mean you will have to process both of them?”
    The feeling of gloom returned as I thought two sets would take twice as long.
    â€œNo. I’ve selected the one with the longest time span as that must be the most recent.”
    â€œYou don’t think they might be connected?” I asked.
    The Professor stopped typing for a minute as if in thought.
    â€œNo, I am fairly sure they’re not connected.”
    â€œWouldn’t it be safer to process both sets?” I asked.
    â€œWe could do, but it would take longer, of course, and I will need another computer.”
    â€œWhy is that?” I asked.
    â€œWell, the amount of data involved is too big to store on a floppy disk, so I have to work entirely on the internal hard drive. That’s just big enough for one set of data and the program, and I don’t want to wipe it clean to make room for the second set of data – not before I’ve completed my investigation.”
    â€œOh, I see,” I said. I didn’t really, but what the hell!
    I asked if he would like a coffee, and left him to it while I went in search of one of those machines that every hospital has, according to the TV and films, except this one. But I did find my favourite WPC, who, in return for my best smile, offered to make a couple of coffees for us in the nurses’ room.
    I had a nice little chat with her while I waited; then, taking the coffees, I returned to the Professor. I sat on the spare desk in the corner and watched him at work. Words would stream across the screen and he would tap furiously away at the keyboard.
    â€˜Who is controlling whom?’ I thought.
    My thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the Professor: “I think it’s coming together.” Despite the calm way he said it, I could detect a tremor of excitement in his voice.
    I stood up and walked over and stood behind him, where I could see the screen. The lines of words and numbers suddenly disappeared and the screen went completely blank.
    â€œWhat’s happened? Is it broke?” I asked in panic.
    â€œNo, it will take a few minutes for the picture to appear,” replied the Professor.
    â€œWhat sort of picture will it be?” I asked as I watched the screen anxiously.
    â€˜Surely it shouldn’t take this long!’ I thought to myself, although the Professor didn’t seem concerned.
    â€œIt won’t be a full action replay – just a still photograph if we are lucky. I have been toying with the idea of feeding the data on to a video tape; then we could play the whole memory like a film, but I am afraid that won’t be possible for some time yet.”
    I was concentrating so hard on the screen that the sudden appearance of white dots in a line across the top of the screen startled me.
    â€œIs that it?” I asked, sounding as disappointed as I felt.
    â€œNo, of course not. Be patient, Inspector. The computer is working very hard. It will compose the picture