Marcus stood.
An older man entered the shop carrying a paper bag and a set of keys. He had gray hair, square glasses, and a slight stoop that made him appear shorter than Marcus remembered.
Thomas Bell.
Marcus stepped out of the passage.
“Mr. Bell?”
The man turned sharply.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Then Thomas's eyes widened.
“Marcus?”
Marcus nodded.
Thomas looked up and down the street.
“What are you doing here?”
“I need your help.”
“Where's your mother?”
“At home, I think.”
“You think?”
“I haven't been able to contact her.”
Thomas's expression changed.
He reached for Marcus's arm, then stopped when he saw the bruising near the boy's wrist.
“Who did this?”
Marcus shook his head.
“It's a long story.”
Thomas looked toward the street again.
“Come inside.”
He unlocked the door and ushered Marcus into the shop, then closed the blinds.
“Sit down.”
Marcus lowered himself onto a stool.
Thomas brought him a bottle of water and a clean cloth for the scrape on his knee.
“You look like you've been walking for miles.”
“I escaped from somewhere.”
Thomas stopped moving.
“Escaped?”
Marcus placed the notebook on the workbench.
“Deputy Aaron Pike took me to an abandoned maintenance depot. He wanted to know what I knew about my father's investigation.”
Thomas stared at the notebook.
“Where did you get that?”
“Pike brought it to me.”
The older man sat down slowly.
“Your father kept that notebook for years. I thought it had been destroyed.”
“Why?”
Thomas looked at the closed blinds.
“Because your father told me that if anything happened to him, I should assume someone would come looking for it.”
Marcus felt his stomach tighten.
“Did you know he was in danger?”
“I knew he was worried.”
“That isn't the same thing.”
“No,” Thomas said quietly. “It isn't.”
Marcus leaned forward.
“Did you know my father was killed because of what he found?”
Thomas removed his glasses and rubbed his eyes.
For a long time, he did not answer.
Then he said, “I know his death was investigated dishonestly.”
Marcus's fingers tightened around the bottle.
“Who did it?”
“I don't know who caused the collision. But I know the dispatch records were altered afterward. I know an evidence transfer was entered into the county system without a proper chain of custody. And I know your father was preparing to take the matter outside the department.”
“Why didn't you tell anyone?”
“Because I was afraid.”
Marcus looked at him bitterly.
“Everyone was afraid.”
Thomas accepted the accusation without defending himself.
“Yes,” he said. “They were.”
He rose and walked toward a cabinet behind the counter.
“I kept something for your father. He told me to give it to you only if you came here with the notebook.”
He opened the cabinet, moved several boxes aside, and removed a small metal case.
The case was locked.
Thomas took a key from his pocket.
Inside lay a blue envelope, a compact digital recorder, and a folded sheet of paper.
Marcus stared at the objects.
“The second recording,” he whispered.
Thomas nodded.
“Your father believed the first recording had been removed from the official dispatch system. He made a copy of the relevant section before the records were altered. But the recording alone wasn't enough. He needed to establish who had access to the original file and who had changed the records afterward.”
Marcus picked up the folded sheet.
His father's handwriting covered the page.
Thomas, if Marcus comes to you, give him the envelope and the recorder. Tell him that evidence is only useful when it can be verified. He must not trust a single copy, a single witness, or a single explanation. If someone says they have the truth, ask them to show you how they know.
Marcus read the note twice.
Then he opened the envelope.
Inside were photocopies of dispatch logs, a partial evidence inventory, and a photograph of a white vehicle parked beside the eastern industrial road on the night Samuel Reed was killed.
On the back of the photograph, his father had written a date and a name.
Richard Harlan.
Marcus looked at Thomas.
“Is this enough to prove what happened?”
“No,” Thomas replied. “It's enough to show that someone needs to investigate. The recorder may contain something important, but we need to establish its authenticity and compare it with the original system records.”
“Can we listen to it?”
Thomas looked at the recorder.
“Yes. But before we do, I want you to understand something.”
“What?”
“If this recording contains what your father believed it contains, people may try to take it away from you. They may tell you it is fake. They may tell you your father was confused. They may offer you money or threaten your family. They may even claim they are trying to protect you.”
Marcus thought of Pike's warning.
“What should I do?”
Thomas placed the envelope on the workbench.
“Make sure the evidence reaches people who can examine it independently. Don't keep the only copy in one place. Don't confront anyone you believe is involved. And don't assume that someone is innocent or guilty simply because they tell you what you want to hear.”