The Cloned Identity by David Hughes Page A

line by line.”
    Just then two more lines suddenly appeared; then the lines started to appear more quickly until they reached the bottom of the screen.
    â€œThat doesn’t help much,” I said.
    The picture on the screen showed the outline of a face, but it was like a negative and not very clear. Not for the first time, the Professor ignored my sarcasm and just carried on tapping away at the keys. Tapping one with a final flourish, he swung round in his chair, looked up at me and watched the horror on my face as the picture dissolved off the screen.
    â€œYou’ve lost the picture!” I wailed.
    â€œReally, Inspector, you should learn to have more confidence. It’s not gone; I’ve transferred it into an art program which, I hope, will enhance it so we can see it better. All right?”
    â€œYes,” I said with a grin. “You had me worried there for a minute. Look – something is happening.”
    He swung back to the screen, which had just changed from black to white. As we both stared, an outline started to appear as if someone was using an invisible felt tip. By the time it reached the mouth, I was staring in disbelief.
    â€œThe two-faced bastard!” I exclaimed loudly, causing the Professor to look up at me.
    â€œYou recognise him?”
    â€œOh, yes,” I replied, not taking my eyes off the now completed picture on the screen. “Oh, yes, I know him all right. Well done, Professor,” I said as I patted him on the shoulder. “Can you do me a copy of that?” I asked.
    â€œYes – no problem.”
    He tapped a few keys and the printer suddenly chattered into life. I walked over to it and watched as that face appeared dot by dot. Cruel anger was clearly visible on the face, as if it were twisted by some physical exertion. As soon as the picture was complete I ripped the paper out of the printer and stared at it for a few minutes; then I carefully folded the paper and put it in my inside pocket. Suddenly realising the Professor was watching me, I looked at him rather sheepishly and felt rather humble.
    I patted the pocket I had put the paper in and said, “Thanks, Professor. Thanks for everything. I am sorry … Well, you know.” I shrugged my shoulders.
    I think he knew that I was trying my best to apologise for questioning his ability, but I think he was probably used to dealing with doubters.
    â€œThat’s all right, Inspector. I understand. However, don’t forget our agreement – no one must know.”
    I nodded and left the room.
    The journey back to the nick flew by, not because of my speed but because I was deep in thought. The way I swaggered through the office caused the team to look up in anticipation, but I kept a blank face. I looked at Joe and motioned with my eyes for him to follow me.
    In my office I dropped into my chair. Joe pushed hard to close the door, then turned to face me and waited. I picked up the pile of folders and threw them to one side.
    â€œWe missed him, Joe. He is not in there.”
    Joe looked puzzled. “You mean you know who it is, boss?”
    I nodded, enjoying the moment.
    I took the folded picture from my pocket and passed it over. I sat and watched his face as he unfolded the paper. I saw his face darken and his eyebrows rise as he realised whom it was a picture of. He looked at me with bewilderment.
    â€œCan’t be, boss. It can’t be.”
    I smiled. “Oh, yes, it can, Joe. There’s no doubt about it.”
    He looked down at the picture again and shook his head. Looking at me again, “Where did you get this from?” he asked.
    â€œStraight from the horse’s mouth – straight from the one person who would know.”
    â€œOh, you mean the Wood woman. She has woken up, then?”
    â€œNo, Joe, she has not woken up – not as far as I know – but it did come from her.”
    â€œThen how did she give you a picture?”
    â€œI am