CHAPTER 8

THE MOODY'S BUILDING

Edward showed his company ID to the guard and said, “I have a guest entering with me this morning.”

The guard opened the guest register, and looked at Franklin, “Your name, sir?”

“Franklin, Benjamin Franklin.”

The guard looked up quickly, alert to a put-on.  She stared at Franklin, glanced at Edward, turned back to Franklin and asked, “Could I see some ID please?”

Franklin turned to Edward, “Is she asking for identification papers?  I always carry my ambassadorial appointment for that very purpose.”

“Yes, identification, and I have been thinking about that little problem.  I do not think that any papers you may be carrying will be meaningful.”

Franklin nodded, “Ah, yes.  I see your point.”

The guard said, “Perhaps a driver’s license, sir?”

Edward said, “He doesn’t drive.”

“Social Security?” asked the guard.

“That just might do it,” said Edward, and he turned to Ben.  “Sir, I believe we should walk over to the Social Security Administration, where it may be possible to obtain an identification card.”

“If you think it best,” Franklin replied.

“May I use the phone to dial upstairs,” Edward asked the guard.  A portable unit was handed over to him, and he dialed Laura’s number.  Franklin stared.

“Hi Laura, it’s Edward,” he said to the voicemail prompt.  “I’m going to have to take some personal time this morning, something’s come up.  Should be in before Noon, though.  I’ll keep in touch.”

Turning to Franklin, who was pointing at the phone while saying, “That instrument…” Edward said, “Let’s go.  We retrace our steps down the hall,” jerking his thumb over his shoulder.  “Then out the door, then just two or three blocks.  The walk should be interesting.”

But as they neared the Park Place door, Edward came to a sudden stop.

“What is it?” asked Franklin.

“I just realized … how stupid of me, but going to Social Security won’t help.”