Part 3: A Copy in the Wrong Hands

I told Daniel to leave the folder on the table. He refused. I did not reach for it. Instead I called Major Cole and explained what Daniel had shown me. The investigator told me to avoid further discussion and asked Daniel to preserve the material. Daniel went upstairs with the folder while I sat in the kitchen, listening to the rain against the window.

The next morning he was gone. His message said he had gone to speak with counsel. It also said I had betrayed him. I read that sentence twice, then put my phone down. A request to preserve evidence was not betrayal. It was what I would have expected from any officer who found an assessment outside its proper files.

Major Cole later confirmed that Daniel had delivered the folder to his lawyer, who had arranged to provide it to investigators. I did not ask to see it. The less I knew about witness statements, the less chance there was that I could accidentally influence someone.

At work, the readiness team was preparing an exercise involving evacuation routes and medical support. Singh showed me a map covered with colored tabs. One route crossed a bridge scheduled for repairs. A civilian planner had flagged it, but the revision had not yet reached the printed briefing.

“Then we correct the briefing,” I said.

“The copies are already in the general's folder.”

“Take them out and replace them. Tell him why.”

Singh smiled. “I thought you'd say that.”

I watched her gather the papers. A small mistake admitted early could be fixed. A small mistake concealed could turn into a much larger one. I wondered how long Daniel had known that.

That evening Patricia called my personal phone. I let it ring. A message followed: I never wanted any of this. Please meet me. I sent the message to Major Cole without answering.

An hour later my doorbell rang. Patricia stood on the porch without her pearls, her red dress replaced by a gray coat. She looked exhausted. I opened the door only as far as the chain allowed.

“I can't talk to you about the investigation,” I said.

“I'm not here about the investigation. I'm here because Daniel said you'd take the house and leave him with nothing.”

“I haven't discussed property with Daniel.”

“He said you would punish anyone who helped him.”

I could see she believed him. That did not make her a reliable witness, and it did not make me the person who should question her. I gave her the name of the investigator and suggested she contact her own lawyer.

As she turned away, she said, “I thought the envelope was an invitation. I didn't know there were assessment pages inside until after the dinner.”

I closed the door and wrote down her exact words. Then I called Major Cole again. This time he asked me to save the doorbell recording. I found it on my phone and saw that Patricia had arrived at 7:12. At 7:09, another figure had crossed the edge of the camera's view.

It was Daniel.