Chapter 15: The Empty File
1302 Words
Damian was already reaching for his coat.
“Stay here,” he told Amara.
She came down the stairs. “No.”
“This is company business.”
“The missing reports are about my father.”
“They may be.”
“Then I’m coming.”
His gaze hardened. “You don’t know what you’re walking into.”
“Neither do you.”
For a moment, they stared at each other across the foyer. Then Damian turned to Daniel.
“Bring the car around. Use the private entrance at the office.”
Daniel nodded and left.
Damian looked back at Amara. “You’ll stay beside me and do exactly as I say.”
“I’ll listen to what you say.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“It’s what you’re getting.”
He didn’t argue again.
Blackwood Global’s offices were mostly dark when they arrived. The few lights still on belonged to the security desk and a cleaning crew working near the elevators.
Daniel led them through a private entrance and up to the records floor. Damian walked quickly, his expression closed. Amara followed, holding the strap of her bag and trying to ignore the unease that had settled in her stomach.
A security guard waited outside the archive room.
“Mr. Blackwood,” he said. “We’ve kept the area clear.”
“Who found the break-in?”
“One of the night staff. The archive door was open when she came through the corridor.”
“Was anything else disturbed?”
“Not that we could see.”
Damian glanced at Amara before entering.
The archive was a long, windowless room lined with cabinets and shelves. A desk lamp illuminated an open drawer near the back wall. Several folders lay scattered on the floor.
Amara stopped at the threshold.
It looked less like a hurried search than a deliberate one. The papers had been moved, but not thrown everywhere. Someone had known which cabinet to open.
Damian crouched beside the drawer.
“Which files are missing?”
The guard checked a list on his tablet. “The original terminal inspection reports from 2016. The archive copy of the harbor master correspondence is missing too.”
“Any sign of forced entry?”
“The electronic lock was opened with an authorised access card. We’re checking the access log now.”
Damian stood. “Who has access?”
“The archive team, senior legal staff, and a limited number of executives.”
“Get me the full list.”
“Yes, sir.”
Amara moved closer to the open drawer. A label on its front read: TERMINAL 4 — SAFETY & INSPECTIONS.
Her stomach tightened.
“Was this where they kept my father’s report?” she asked.
“It should have been,” Damian said.
“Then whoever came here knew exactly what to look for.”
He glanced at her. “That’s what concerns me.”
She looked over the desk. A dust-free rectangle marked where a folder had recently been removed. Beside it lay a small piece of paper, barely visible under a ledger.
Amara reached for it.
“Don’t touch anything,” Damian said.
She stopped.
The security guard put on gloves and picked it up with tweezers. It was a torn strip from a printed page. Only a few words remained:
…not the only copy…
Damian read it, his face unreadable.
“Was this here before?” he asked the guard.
“We don’t know, sir. The scene wasn’t disturbed after it was found.”
Amara looked at the torn edge. “It could have been left as a warning.”
“Or a distraction,” Damian replied.
“Do you think the missing files were the only reason for the break-in?”
“I don’t know.”
It was the second time he had admitted that that night. Amara wondered how much it cost him.
Daniel returned with a tablet.
“The access card belonged to a former archive contractor,” he said. “It was deactivated years ago, but the system logged it as active tonight.”
“How is that possible?”
“We’re checking the permissions. Someone may have reactivated it.”
“Who authorised that?”
Daniel looked down at the screen. “The request came through the legal department.”
“Name?”
“Not yet. The approval field is blank.”
Damian’s expression sharpened. “Get the system administrator. Preserve every access log and camera recording.”
“Already requested.”
Amara stepped closer to the drawer.
“Could there be another copy?”
“There may be,” Damian said. “The company maintained duplicate files after the investigation.”
“Where?”
“Some are held off-site. The rest should be in legal storage.”
“Then we should check there.”
“We will.”
“Tonight.”
He looked at her. “You’ve made your point.”
“No, I haven’t. Someone took the documents that could explain what happened to my father. I’m not going back to the manor while everyone else decides what I’m allowed to know.”
The security guard shifted uneasily.
Damian lowered his voice. “This isn’t a negotiation.”
“It became one when you made me part of your family’s history.”
For several seconds, he said nothing.
Then he turned to Daniel. “Find out whether the off-site copies are intact. Don’t call anyone outside the company until we know who submitted that access request.”
Daniel nodded and stepped into the corridor.
Amara looked again at the torn paper.
“Why leave that?”
“Maybe they wanted us to know another copy exists.”
“Or wanted us to go looking for it.”
Damian’s eyes met hers. “Exactly.”
A faint chime sounded from the guard’s tablet.
He checked the screen and frowned. “The camera feed from this corridor went offline for eleven minutes.”
“Before or after the break-in?” Damian asked.
“Before. It came back online shortly after the archive door was opened.”
Amara felt cold.
“Someone knew the cameras would be down.”
“Or made sure they were,” Damian said.
The guard scrolled through the report. “There’s one more thing. The building’s visitor log shows a person entered through the south lobby using a temporary pass.”
“Name?” Damian asked.
“It was issued under a false name.”
“Photo?”
The guard turned the tablet around.
The image was grainy, taken from the lobby camera. A figure in a cap and dark coat stood near the reception desk, face lowered.
Amara leaned closer.
The person’s right hand rested on the counter.
A plain silver ring circled one finger.
She had seen that ring before.
Not on Damian. Not on Daniel.
In the photograph of her father, tucked inside the old lockbox, Marcus stood beside a man whose face was partly cut off by the edge of the picture. A silver ring was visible on his right hand.
Amara looked at Damian.
“I think I know that ring.”
His expression changed. “Where?”
“In one of my father’s photographs.”
The security guard enlarged the image. The ring blurred into a pale glint.
Damian took the tablet from him.
“Find the visitor’s route through the building,” he ordered. “And no one leaves until we’ve spoken to everyone who was on this floor.”
Amara’s heart began to pound.
The missing reports might have explained why her father was blamed.
But the person who took them might have known Marcus personally.
Damian lowered the tablet.
“Amara,” he said, quieter now. “What else was in that photograph?”
- Writer
- chap_listContents
- likeADD