We Found The Missing Accountant Hanging Above The Harbor Bottom

Graham's fingers rested against a bar. When my light crossed his mask, he lifted them again.

I told the surface we had found him alive.

The rescue diver beside me moved in with the gear Etta had chosen. I stayed where I could watch the brace and keep our lines clear.

The cage hung at an angle. One corner rested on steel as thin and rough as an old saw blade. Under it, dark water reached down toward the mud.

We couldn't just pull the cage loose.

I reported the cracked connection. Etta stopped the lift plan and had her crew support the cage before anyone worked on its door.

Inside, Graham stared at us. His orange jacket floated around shoulders that seemed too small for it. A pressure gauge hung beside one of the cylinders.

The rescue diver checked it, then brought him another air supply.

Graham tried to help. His tied hands barely moved.

"We've got you," I said, though he couldn't hear my words through the water.

I hoped he understood my face.

The door opened only a little at first. A bent corner held it. We waited while the support line took the strain.

Every pause felt longer than the dive itself.

At last, the door came clear. The rescue diver freed Graham's wrists and took charge of bringing him up. I followed under Etta's orders, watching for loose chain.

At the surface, hands reached down.

I saw Graham laid on the deck, then lost sight of him behind the medical crew. I sat where Rosa put me and let someone check me too.

My watch said 4:46.

Rosa sat beside me with our dive board across her lap.

"Do I put successful rescue in the notes?" she asked.

"Put transferred alive to the medical crew."

She nodded and wrote exactly that.

I had walked into Mercer's office asking for my pay less than an hour earlier.

Noemi crouched beside me.

"He's breathing," she said. "They're taking him in."

I pressed my palms against my knees.

"The brace could have let go."

"It didn't."

"If I'd erased the file—"

"You didn't."

She let those words sit between us. She didn't tell me to calm down.

When I could stand, she handed me a paper cup of water.

"Terrible harbor tour," she said softly.

I laughed once, then had to look away.

By evening, Graham was under care at the hospital. An officer guarded his room. Noemi told me he had asked to make a short statement once the doctors allowed it.

I gave mine at the station.

We went over my work order, the interrupted dive, Cal's visit, and Mercer's message. I named each person only when I was sure.

"I didn't see who tied his hands," I said.

Noemi wrote that down too.

"Does that hurt the case?"

"Guessing would hurt it."

Near nine, she returned from the hospital with a second detective. She asked me to stay while he showed me a photograph of a diving mask.

"Is this yours?" he asked.

"No. Mine have yellow marks on the frame. That's gray."

"Mercer says Vale stole equipment from you. He says you two were running a salvage scheme."

There it was. The rumor had found a body to stand on.

"Check my equipment sheet," I said.

Rosa had already emailed it. Every item we brought to that pier had a number. Every item had come home with us.

Noemi placed the sheet beside the photograph.

"We'll verify the recovered equipment separately," she said.

I looked at her. She didn't offer me an easy promise. She offered a check someone could repeat.

I trusted that more.

The other detective left to make calls. Noemi sat across from me.

"Graham said Mercer kept him in a loft above the engine shed since yesterday morning," she said. "He'd already given a sealed envelope to his sister. Mercer wanted it back."

"Why put him in the harbor?"

"To make him tell them where she was. Graham had dived before. They gave him air and said they'd return when he was ready to talk. Then the cage caught."

"So they left him."

"While they tried to free it from above. That's his account. We're checking it."

I remembered Cal dragging chain.

"They could have called for help."

"Yes," she said.

Her voice had no softness in it then.

Before I left, my phone lit up with a photograph from Rosa. A printed notice had been taped to our rented shed.

ACCESS SUSPENDED PENDING INVESTIGATION.

The landlord's company name sat at the bottom. Mercer owned that company too.

Under the photograph came a second message, from an unknown number.

Tell Duarte the blue book wasn't the real one.