In a brown paper package, like many you’d see.
It was coming to London, was coming to me.
Then a knock on my door, and as I turned to look.
In walked a man, with just half a book.
“It’s a diary” he said, “it was given to me”
“It’s a hell of a story, just wait and see”
So we sat in my office, in silence we read.
And in shear disbelief, I looked up and said.
“To see if it’s real, and in case there’s a doubt,
some tests will be done, we’ll have it checked out”
So we tested the paper, we tested the ink.
Then at first our results made my heart want to sink.
Then a second opinion, in case it was wrong.
And what we heard back made us want to go on.
The writing we thought we could verify clearly.
but did we succeed ? .....well, some would say ...nearly.
The age of the book we established, .....almost.
but the age of the ink ? .....well, some would say ....close.
They said that the words such a killer might write.
I said, “could we prove it ?” ....well, some said, ...”not quite”.
And in test after test more opinions we sought.
the proof would elude us, it always fell short.
So with money and time we invested so long.
We had to show confidence, we were not wrong.
And with heads held up high, we then published our word.
And stated quite firmly, ....”no one could prove fraud”
Jon :-) :-)