It is not often, the silent contemplation of two travelers beats a path to a similar destination.

“What do you suppose, Dodson, makes a man go to these extremes to be different?”

“You mean outside of a deeply flawed character?”

Jones rose and looked to his watch. He grew impatient. It was half past six O’clock.  Walking forward, he stopped short of the carpet and squatted. Something catching his attention needed a different perspective.

“Where do you suppose he is?” The doctor asked as Jude rose.

“I’m right here, gentlemen.”

While undoubtedly the voice from the intercom, it held far more depth of resonance in person.

Jones and Dodson turned quickly and saw Maranatha positioned behind them. How long he might have been behind them, neither could know.

Mannheim was a tall, enormously thick man of fifty plus years experience, fit and erect. From the cut of his clothes to his massive hands and perfectly manicured hands, every thing about him suggested that he was a gentleman. Everything, except for his head.

Overlarge, even for the size of the man, it was covered only with a thin stripe of hair, crowning his ears and sweeping to the nape of the neck. Overly fleshed features, and a Neanderthal brow, nearly buried his small, dark eyes. His rounded and excessively protruding jaw was filled with perfectly magnificent teeth,. Any artist could not have drawn a better comic book villain.

“You needn’t worry about the carpet, Mr. Jones,” Maranatha continued, seemingly oblivious to his quest’s awe. “It’s practically stain proof. You may walk on it if you please.”

Jones, given his liberty, took the opportunity to satisfy his curiosity. He sidled the piano and measured it against himself.

“A-ha! Just as I thought,” he announced sharply. “This is not standard height.”

 “A very astute observation, Mr. Jones. That was made by a Russian piano maker at the personal request of Liberace. It was never publicly used, and sold before his death. There is almost no documentation, and could probably not be proved in court, but I have it on good authority.”

“Highly unusual,” Dodson remarked.

If it is true there is no beast, which hasn’t his little bit of pride, it proved itself in Maranatha just then. He beamed. It was most disconcerting. Fortunately it did not last long.