30 minutes later, the car pulled into the underground garage of the Port Lucis City Police Department.
Jules led me into a hidden surveillance room. Beyond the one‑way glass was an interrogation room.
Thierry was handcuffed to the interrogation chair, his hair disheveled, his eyes panic‑stricken.
Two police officers sat across from him.
One of them said, "Speak! How much did you launder for Remy through the shell companies under your name?"
Thierry denied everything. "I don't know what you're talking about. I don't even know who Remy is! I'm being framed. I want to see my lawyer."
The officer slapped a stack of photos down in front of him and said, "These are photocopies of the ledger found in the safe in your study. Every laundering transaction, clear as day."
Thierry stared hard a
