I was three steps out of the market's west entrance, USB drive in my coat pocket, when my phone rang. Marcus.
"You moved to Saturday and then sent nothing for twelve hours," he said.
"I was building toward something," I said.
"Is this the part where you tell me it's bigger than I thought?"
"It's bigger than I thought," I said.
A pause. "How much bigger?"
"I need you to sit down," I said.
"I'm already sitting down."
"Good." I walked toward the subway. "Richard Voss. Eleven-year Cole Industries board member. Look him up while I talk."
I heard the sound of a keyboard. "Found him," Marcus said. "Board since — oh." A pause. "Oh. He sits on risk management."
"Yes," I said.
"Which means he would have access to—"
"Yes," I said.
"And if he's been coordinating with Eleanor Cole for two
