Forget to Remember
Yes. Could he scan a picture for her—she showed it to him—and then e-mail it to someone. One more thing: he would have to use the hotel’s e-mail account because she didn’t have access to one here.
Five minutes later, she returned to her room, carrying a copy of the e-mail message she had sent: “Hi Frances, What do you think of this picture? Supposed to be me and my parents, Helen and Richard Sakai, and brother Michael, taken within the last 5 years. Call me at the Carolina Inn. Thanks, Carol.” She also gave the phone number of the hotel.
It still wasn’t late in her head, but she was suddenly tired. She undressed and got ready for bed. She had forgotten to pack the nightgown Tina had bought for her. That was all right; the sheets felt soft against her bare skin. She stared at the photo and wondered how this adventure was going to end. As hard as she tried, she couldn’t picture herself as Cynthia. Who was she? She became too sleepy to hold the picture and it slipped out of her grasp.
CHAPTER 11
The message light on Carol’s phone was blinking when she returned to her room after eating a Continental breakfast. Her head was fuzzy since she was still on Los Angeles time, but she wanted to adjust to the East Coast as fast as possible.
The message was from Frances who had returned her call from last night. Carol looked at the clock on the bedside table. It was eight fifteen, meaning five fifteen in Los Angeles. Frances was up early. Carol punched in her number.
“Hello, Frances Moran.”
“Good morning, Frances, it’s Carol. You’re up early.”
“Good. I wanted to catch you before you ran off someplace.”
“Thanks for calling back.”
“That’s my job. I need to talk to you about the picture you sent me.”
“Yes, what do you think about it?”
“It’s a fake.”
That was short and not very sweet. For some reason, Carol had been half expecting it, but the news still came as a shock to her. “Why do you say that?”
“Do you have the picture in front of you?”
“Just a second.” Carol took the picture out of the envelope. “Yes, I’ve got it.”
“Okay, first, notice the original picture was taken outdoors with a tree in the background.”
“Yes.”
“So that means we have outdoor lighting from the sun. You can tell that the sun was to the right of the picture because the left sides of the parents’ faces and Michael’s face are lit. The right sides are in shadow. Now look at your face. It’s lit evenly, probably as the result of a flash. So, the picture of you was taken indoors.”
Carol looked at the picture with new eyes. “Right. I see that now.”
“There’s more evidence. Both your eyes have catch lights from the flash. On the parents and Michael, only the left eyes have catch lights from the sun. In addition, your head is too small compared to the heads of Michael and the parents.”
“Too small? Children’s heads are smaller—”
“You’re not a child in the picture. It was supposed to have been taken within the last few years. Michael’s head is out of proportion with yours, and he’s only a couple of years older. Your head should be the same size as your mother’s. In addition, the picture of you is identical to one of the pictures Rigo took of you, except the marks on your face are gone. They’ve been airbrushed out.”
“Wow.”
“Look on the back of the photo. Is anything written on it?”
“It says ‘STAPLES.’”
“Staples sells photographic paper for computer printers. The photo of you was airbrushed and then added to the original photo, replacing Cynthia’s. That photo was scanned and printed from a computer printer. It was a decent scanner, but the quality isn’t quite as good as you’d get from a lab. I know if I’m right what you sent me is a scan of a scan, but see if you agree.”
“I think I do.” Frances had destroyed the veracity of the photo as effectively as a swordsman slicing up his victim. There was nothing left to say in its defense.
Frances spoke while Carol was still pondering this. “Tell me what you’re doing. Rigo’s worried sick about you.”
“I didn’t mean to worry anybody. Paul Vigiano gave me the picture. I met Mrs. Horton. She’s a nice lady.”
“But obviously not your grandmother. Otherwise, why would Vigiano have gone to the trouble of doctoring the photo? He’s trying to sell you on the fact that you’re Cynthia. Now I know why he didn’t send me any recent photos of
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