He handed another file over to Brian.
Brian opened it and quickly skimmed through it, his expression growing serious.
The person in the photograph didnât match the current Carlow.
âMr.
Hughes, it appears the current Carlow is also an imposter.
My police contacts revealed that the real Carlow was an informant, critically injured long ago by adversaries and left in a coma until his death last year,â Edwin explained.
âCarlow had no family or close friends to claim him after his death, so the police managed his affairs.
Few knew of this.
It remained confidential.
â
Brian absorbed the information from the document.
He gazed intensely at the man in the photo, his thoughts racing.
A police informantâs identity was sensitive.
The deceased Barlow had also been a police informant.
The man currently known as Carlow bore a striking resemblance to Barlow.
Could it be possible thatâ¦
As the realization dawned, a smile spread across Brianâs face, lifting his spirits.
Sanford, still reeling from Edwinâs revelations, noticed the change.
âBrian, whatâs behind that smile? What have you pieced together?â
Brian hesitated, then shared his suspicion.
âIâm starting to think Barlow might still be alive.
â
Sanfordâs shock was evident, his mind racing with implications.
âCould it really be-â
Without another word, Brian dialed the number listed in Carlowâs file.
After several rings, a voice answered, âWhoâs this?â
Brian couldnât help but smirk.
âShould I address you as Carlow, or perhaps Barlow?â
There was a brief silence on the line before a familiar chuckle filled the air.
âYou caught on quicker than I expected, Mr.
Hughes.
As sharp as ever.
â
The tone was unmistakably Barlowâs.
A whirlwind of emotions surged through Brian-excitement, joy, and a twinge of guilt.
âDonât compliment me.
It feels like youâre mocking me,â Brian retorted.
âNo, my compliment is genuine,â Barlow responded playfully.