Malcolm Carried The Original Receipts Into The Hearing Room

Malcolm arrived at the courthouse with a hard case and no briefcase.

“Less room to misplace things,” he said.

He wore a dark suit. His cuffs had been pressed so sharply that they looked like folded paper.

Nisha reviewed Blythe's statement with me on a bench. Blythe said Lenore had developed the collection while consulting for Morrow. Therefore, she argued, it had always belonged to the company.

“She left out a few dates,” Nisha said.

“About twelve years.”

“A few substantial dates.”

Blythe had hired her own lawyer. Evan attended for the company, whose remaining directors had asked him to take a separate position. They wanted the records preserved and the sale rescued if that was still possible.

I had not slept much. In the courtroom, I kept hearing a low hum from an air vent. I waited for two knocks that never came.

Malcolm testified first.

He explained how he had received Lenore's documents, checked them against her schedule, and stored them. He showed the seal record and the notice instructions.

Blythe's lawyer asked whether he was a scientist.

“No.”

“Then you can't tell this court what's in those vials.”

“No. I can tell the court which signed instructions were placed with me, when they arrived, and who was entitled to receive them.”

He did not reach for a larger answer.

Nisha handed him the original purchase records.

Lenore had begun the collection twelve years before Morrow was formed. There were field permissions, acquisition receipts, and bank copies showing payments from her own account.

Later consulting agreements named her collection as a separate source. They said Morrow received use rights through a license. The signed 2018 transfer schedule tied those older records to the current accession numbers.

“Did Dr. Vale tell you to hide this arrangement from the company?” Nisha asked.

“She instructed me to send notice to its counsel and keep proof of delivery. I did both.”

He identified the old delivery records. He also identified the 2024 summary requested by Blythe's office.

Blythe watched without taking notes.

When I testified, her lawyer asked why I had accepted an employee salary if I owned something so valuable.

“Because curating the working set was my job. Licensing the collection was a separate agreement.”

“An agreement that benefited you.”

“Yes. It benefited the company, too.”

Nisha showed seven paid annual invoices. Each described biological reference license fees. Morrow's own accounts listed them as expenses, not purchases of the collection.

Then came the question I had expected.

“You waited until a sale to assert these rights?”

“I sent an invoice every year. I signed custody checks every quarter. This is the first time someone tried to transfer those rights without asking.”

The lawyer looked down at his page.

He asked whether I resented losing my job.

“Yes,” I said.

Nisha did not rise or shake her head. We had practiced telling the truth without making it smaller.

“Would you have required consent if the company kept you employed?”

“Yes. My signature protects the collection's future. It isn't a condition of keeping me on the payroll.”

He moved to another question.

I kept my hands loose in my lap.

Casey testified about the count. He described the empty chest freezer and the racks. He explained where he got the email copies and file history, and how he preserved them.

Blythe's lawyer called the board instruction a rushed business choice.

“Did you find an incomplete program?” he asked.

“I found no replacement materials,” Casey said. “The schedule represented sixty-eight as on hand and verified.”

The judge asked whether any performance comparisons existed.

“None were produced after our written request.”

Blythe took the stand last.

She said she had expected commercial replacements to be available quickly. She had believed the lease and the company's long use made the old collection a company asset.

“Then why list replacements?” Nisha asked.

“To give the buyer comfort.”

“Were they there?”

“Not at that stage.”

The room stayed quiet long enough for the clerk's keyboard to sound loud.

The judge continued the preservation order. She said the documents strongly supported Red Ledger's claim, while final title and the remaining claims still required resolution.

She ordered a schedule for exchanging evidence. Neither side could pretend the hearing had settled every issue.

Outside, Blythe stepped close to me.

“You could have brought this to me privately.”

“I asked who would sign the custody log.”

Her mouth tightened.

For once, she had no polite answer ready.

Malcolm waited by the stairs until she left. Then he passed me a message Evan had asked him to deliver.

Six shareholders had called a special meeting. Together, they held enough voting shares to replace the board.

Attached was an invitation for me to present the audit, with Blythe listed as the first person whose seat would come to a vote.