"It seems our Serbian friend isn't who he pretends to be."
With a slapping sound a suspiciously thin folder landed on Napoleon's desk. He looked up questioningly at his partner. As soon as they'd returned from that not very successful mission two days ago Illya had stalked to section IV to find out more about the elusive scientist. And, knowing his partner, had most likely lingered in the shadows with a disgruntled expression until the men and women working at the computers had produced results. Illya didn't like being nearly blown up. He preferred doing the blowing up.
"Now isn't that an unexpected turn. Maybe he's not as innocent as we'd assumed?"
Napoleon opened the folder and found copies of the man's passport, driver's licence, university degrees. It all bore the name "Dane Mandić" and the picture in the passport was definitely their man.
"They are all fakes. The passport was first used in 1945 after the End of World War II, which is when Mandić allegedly immigrated to the United States as a refugee at 21 years of age", Illya informed him. "And that apart from his bank account, which is now empty, and some purchases of equipment is all the information section IV was able to find on the man. Oh, also his passport has been used for regular trips to Europe and Asia in the last years. Identification and degrees are very good fakes, expensive I am sure, yet the man had hardly enough in his bank account to pay his rent. I think he must have influential friends somewhere."
Napoleon nodded his consent. "But not THRUSH friends?"
"No, we could find no prior contact between him and THRUSH, at least not under this name. We are running his picture through a new face recognition computer but I am not really expecting results. It is still in the test stages and we haven't worked out all the troubles yet. Last week it matched a picture of you to Elvis Presley."
The amused look on the Russian's face made Napoleon glare at him with exaggerated scorn.
"Elvis Presley is a good looking man, no wonder your computer mistook me for him. What did it match your face with? Lawrence of Arabia?"
Illya's grin widened. "Of course not, what ever gave you that idea? Anyway, back to the questions at hand. We can't even find proof that Mandić is actually Serbian. There is no birth record of anyone by that name in Serbia. It also doesn't seem to be an anagram for anyone who was ever born in Serbia. But when he spoke Serbian to us I would say it sounded genuine. Slightly old-fashioned, like you'd hear from people who have grown up in small isolated villages but definitely Serbian."
Napoleon closed the folder again. "So we have no way of finding out what his real name is or where he might have vanished to? I take it this passport has not been used since he blew up his lab and singed our suits? Oh, that reminds me…We still need to write up our expenses."
The Russian lifted an eyebrow. "I have already written up all my expenses and our reports. I am not writing up your expenses, you can do that yourself. And no, we have no idea what his real name is or which other fake identifications he might posses. He vanished like a ghost after that fire, like he doesn't even exist. And I am sure if he planned to leave the country he already has so it will be no use sending his picture to the airports. If he is still in America he could be half way across the country or right under our noses, there is no way to tell."
At that moment Illya's communicator chirped and section IV summoned the two agents to inspect the results of the face recognition program.
Without any high hopes of gaining useful information they hurried along the grey walled corridors to section IV.
"After you", Napoleon gestured for his partner to enter first as the doors slid open.
"Brains before beauty?" Illya replied with a smirk and stepped inside.
The room was, as always, buzzing with typing, the humming and whirring of the machines and quiet discussions of results. Their entrance gained them hardly more than a passing glance from the busy technicians. Some of the women smiled at Napoleon as the walked past them and he dutifully flirted back to the best of his ability. Illya merely rolled his eyes and made a bee line for the face recognition computer.
"Any joy, Samson?"
"Completely joyless, I'm afraid, Mr. Kuryakin. Not without comic value but not much help with your run away scientist. I fear we will never get this thing to work reliably."
With a sad sigh he handed Illya several printed pages. One contained the picture from Mandić's passport next to a black and white photograph of a man who did actually look strikingly similar. The next pages listed all the reference points the program had used to match the two pictures. It claimed 90% compatibility, which was high, very high. Yet it had claimed 85% for Napoleon and Elvis….
"I fear you're right, Samson. This is completely impossible. I do see a certain similarity, especially if you take away the moustache and change his hairstyle, but it is just not possible."
Napoleon patted the technicians back.
"I am sure you did your best. But even then, some affairs we will never solve. And no matter how sure your computer is, I am surer that this is not our man. Especially since he's been dead for quite some time."
Samson shrugged dejectedly as they took their leave.
Illya kept staring thoughtfully at the two pictures while they headed back to Napoleon's office.
"He was rather famous while he lived, you know? That supposed match for Mandić" he told his partner while he waited for him to get the files in order so that they could put the case aside.
"I'll just go check something", Illya mumbled and vanished with that strange pensive look on his face. Napoleon shrugged and continued his paperwork. He was long used to his partner running off to follow some flight of fancy. Illya would tell him what it was, sooner or later, maybe.
"The curious thing is, he also had a brother named Dane…and his mother's maiden name was Mandić", Illya said thoughtfully as they headed to lunch later.
Napoleon lifted his eyebrows. "You are starting to worry me, partner mine. Believe me, we were not nearly blown up by Nikola Tesla!"