He had memorized the different twists and turns through the dark alleyway. One more left and he would be there. Up ahead, he noticed the dilapidated building with the four steps leading down to a basement apartment. He rang the buzzer three times as required.
“Who’s there?” spoke the voice on the intercom.
“A customer.”
“Do you have any ID?”
“What?”
A man opened the door and chuckled. “Everyone falls for that line.”
“I fail to see the humor.”
The two of them walked into the back room.
“As I said on the phone, I need a set of photos for driver’s licenses and passports.”
“Can do. May I see the documents?”
He opened his duffle bag and presented only a driver’s license. “Take care of this first.”1
“Aren’t we being careful,” the shop owner said, noting the tape over the name.
The first photo was taken and the license was properly prepared and returned.
“Would you step out of the room for a moment?”
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me.”
“You’re the customer!” The counterfeiter obliged and waited patiently outside the door. Seconds later he heard a voice say, “Come back in.”
“As I said before, aren’t we being careful.” The counterfeiter had seen a lot, but the changes were miraculous. No one could tell he was same person.
“Just take the photo. Here, it goes on these.”
The counterfeiter snapped the camera and produced another photo for another license and a passport. He noted again the tape covering the names. “I know, I know.” He stepped out of the room one more time and waited.
“Ready,” he heard minutes later. Again, he was taken aback by yet another masterful disguise. He followed the same steps as before, but this time he held the license and passport firmly in his grip. “As we agreed on the phone, payment up front.” He held out his other hand in a give-me motion. Then he counted as the one hundred dollar bills were peeled off and placed in his palm. With a satisfied smile on his face, the counterfeiter said, “Here you go sir. It’s a pleasure doing business.”
“One more thing.”
“Oh, man, come ‘on.”
“Give.”
Reluctantly, the counterfeiter clicked open the compartment on his camera and handed over the memory card.
The last sound heard was the front door creaking, then closing shut.