Earlier that day, Sunday, at noon, Henry Kramer had not known whether to laugh or cry. He did neither as he read the file on Tyler Esteil for a second time.
He stared at a photograph of the twenty-year-old boy, his prison picture, and the composite drawn from the guards’ description.
It looked like two completely different people.
No one had a recording of the event. There were recordings, up until the moment the helicopter’s propellers could be heard. After that, all audio and video had died until the man himself left the area.
Henry Kramer already had three options for what could have caused that.
By two p.m., he summoned Maricius Voltera. By six o’clock, three Volteras and the three Kramer men were in Henry Kramer’s home office – formerly Edward Kramer’s home office.
Quentin Jerg
