Chapter 2 - The Missing Container That Led Straight Back to the Explosion
The next morning, Nora arrived at 7:04 a.m.
Arthur was already awake.
She knew because the lights in his office were on.
She knocked.
“Come in.”
She entered.
“You're early,” Arthur said.
“So are you.”
“I don't sleep much.”
“I noticed.”
“How?”
“You answered the door before I knocked twice.”
Arthur looked toward her.
Nora immediately corrected herself.
“Sorry.”
“You don't need to apologize.”
“That makes one of us.”
He smiled faintly.
Nora placed a coffee on his desk.
Arthur frowned.
“What is that?”
“Coffee.”
“It smells different.”
“Because it's good.”
He took a sip.
Stopped.
Looked toward her.
“Where did you get this?”
“Coffee shop across the street.”
“How much?”
“Three dollars.”
“You spent three dollars on me?”
“You pay me forty-five an hour.”
“I'm paying you to work.”
“Exactly.”
He took another sip.
“This is better.”
“I know.”
Nora sat.
Arthur placed the cup down.
“Tell me about the key.”
She looked at him.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything you remember.”
“The attacker dropped it.”
“Yes.”
“He was wearing black.”
“Yes.”
“He moved like he knew the building.”
“Yes.”
“He knew where your office was.”
“Yes.”
“He knew the cameras.”
“Yes.”
Nora leaned back.
“And he wasn't trying to kill you.”
Arthur went still.
“Explain.”
“If he wanted you dead, he'd have shot you when you were behind the desk.”
Arthur said nothing.
“He wanted you distracted.”
“What makes you think that?”
“The key.”
Arthur touched it.
“You think he wanted me to find it?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“I don't know.”
Arthur nodded slowly.
“Neither do I.”
Nora opened her laptop.
“But I can find out.”
Arthur raised an eyebrow.
“You can?”
“I've spent six years finding missing numbers for people who didn't want them found.”
She pulled up the Port Mason records.
“Let's start with the missing container.”
For three hours, they worked.
Nora found something.
The container had been scanned at 2:17 a.m.
Then the record had been manually deleted.
She traced the user ID.
It belonged to Marcus Bell.
The missing manager.
Arthur called Vincent.
“Find him.”
“Already looking.”
“Find him alive.”
A pause.
“Yes.”
Nora looked at Arthur.
“Why alive?”
“Because dead men don't answer questions.”
“You say that like it's obvious.”
“In my line of work, it is.”
They found Marcus at noon.
He was dead.
The police called it suicide.
Arthur didn't believe it.
Neither did Nora.
Because the body had been found in a locked apartment.
The gun was in Marcus's right hand.
But Marcus was left-handed.
Nora pointed it out.
Arthur listened.
“You're certain?”
“Yes.”
Vincent looked at her.
“How?”
“His signatures.”
She opened the records.
“He always signed with his left hand. His handwriting tilts differently.”
Arthur turned toward Vincent.
“Get the medical examiner.”
Vincent nodded.
Later that evening, Nora found another discrepancy.
Marcus had accessed a storage file two days before his death.
The file concerned the warehouse explosion.
Arthur had been investigating it privately for two years.
But this file had never appeared in his records.
Nora opened it.
There was one photograph.
A damaged steel door.
Stamped across it:
B-17.
Nora's stomach dropped.
“Arthur.”
He came over.
She showed him the screen.
He touched the desk.
“Describe it.”
She did.
Then Arthur whispered:
“That door was beneath the warehouse.”
“Beneath?”
“Yes.”
“Why wasn't it in the official report?”
“It didn't exist officially.”
Nora frowned.
“What does that mean?”
Arthur turned away.
“After the explosion, investigators found no basement.”
“Then why is there a door?”
“That's what I want to know.”
He called Vincent.
“We're going back.”
Nora stood.
“To the warehouse?”
“Yes.”
“Tonight?”
“Yes.”
“Absolutely not.”
Arthur turned.
“You're not coming.”
“Then who's going to read everything?”
“Vincent.”
“He doesn't read your reports.”
“He does.”
“He pretends to.”
Vincent, standing in the doorway, sighed.
Arthur looked between them.
Finally, he said:
“Fine.”
Nora grabbed her coat.
“But if you get me killed, I'm haunting you.”
Arthur smiled.
May you like
“You'll have to get in line.”
---
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