As soon as he got back to his office, John took the paper Mayor Dunn had given him from the top drawer of his desk. It was just as he remembered it. Arik Dalca’s name was at the top, followed by his age, an address in a town halfway across the country, and the specifics of his height, weight, hair, and eye colors. All the information looked as if had been written in a hurry on the first available scrap of paper the writer could find.
He had checked out the address. It was legitimate, or had been as of two months ago, before Arik moved away. His age was given as thirty, but with no birth date. Now—given what Arik had told him—John wondered if the lack of a date had to do with where he was born. A very prejudiced idea. In this day and age, I’m sure birth records are kept in the Ukraine just
