“I’m going to find those documents and get justice.”
But first, she had to get her children from school and daycare. After the threats in the alley, she couldn’t leave them unprotected. She asked Andrew if he could lend her some money to hire a private investigator. She needed someone who could help her get to the safe deposit box and ensure her safety.
“I know a guy, a former detective,” Andrew said. “He’s honest, and he’ll help for a reasonable fee. But you have to move fast. If they suspect you know the truth, you don’t have much time.”
Susan nodded. For the first time in a long while, she didn’t feel alone in this fight. She had allies and, most importantly, she had proof. Now, she just had to stay alive long enough to use it.
The private investigator, Jack Stone, was a man in his fifties with sharp eyes and a calm demeanor. Andrew introduced them in his office, briefly explaining the situation. Stone listened to Susan’s story about the safe deposit box and nodded. He’d handled cases like this before.
“We need to find that key tonight,” he said. “Tomorrow might be too late. If they realize you know about the evidence, they’ll be taking steps to stop you.”
Susan picked up her kids from school and daycare, telling the staff there was a family emergency. Katie was surprised to see her mom so early but didn’t ask questions—she could sense the tension and didn’t want to add to it. Mikey clung to her neck, his stutter still noticeable after the night’s trauma.
At home, Susan sent the children next door to her neighbor, a retired teacher who sometimes watched them. She explained that she had urgent business to attend to and asked her not to let anyone in. The neighbor agreed, though she looked concerned by the unusual request.
In Mark’s office, Susan went to the bookshelf. A full set of classic American novels filled an entire shelf—twelve volumes in dark blue leather bindings. She began checking each one, flipping through the pages. In the seventh volume, tucked between the pages of *The Great Gatsby*, was a small key to a safe deposit box. Attached to it was a small tag with the number 347, just as Mark had said in the video. Susan clutched the key, her heart pounding.
Stone was waiting for her at the bank on Garden Street. It was an old, stately building in the center of town. The vault was in the basement, behind multiple layers of security. A guard checked their IDs and buzzed them in. Box 347 was in a far corner of the vault. Susan inserted the key, and the small metal door swung open.
Inside was a thick manila folder, several flash drives, and a digital voice recorder. Stone quickly transferred everything into his briefcase.
“It’s not safe to go through this here,” he said quietly. “Let’s go back to my office.”
On the way, Susan noticed a dark sedan following them. Stone saw it too and made several sharp turns into side streets, trying to lose the tail. They finally managed to merge into heavy traffic on the main avenue and shake them.
The investigator’s office was in a nondescript apartment building on the edge of town. Stone booted up a computer and began examining the contents of the flash drives. Scanned documents, bank statements, photos, and audio recordings filled the screen. The scale of the corruption was staggering. A 50-acre parcel of land, zoned for a new children’s hospital, had been sold to a private company for a pittance. Its real market value was over five million dollars. The scheme involved Deputy Mayor Thompson, Planning Commissioner Vasquez, several other city officials, and of course, Grant and Keller. The money was laundered through shell corporations and fraudulent loans from Grant’s bank.
“Mark was meticulous,” Stone said, studying the files. “It’s all here. Tapped phone calls, copies of contracts, wire transfers. This is enough to put the whole crew away for a long time.”
One audio file particularly caught the detective’s attention. It was a recording of Grant and Keller discussing what to do about Mark, who had started asking too many questions. Keller suggested a “permanent solution,” and Grant agreed, remarking that “accidents on the road happen all the time.”
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