THE MISSING VOUCHER
1803 Words
At 6:42 the following morning, Lin Wei stood outside Hengsheng Tower and watched the first light of dawn spread across Jianghai City.
The streets were quieter than usual. A few delivery trucks moved through the financial district, their headlights cutting through the pale morning mist. Office buildings stood like enormous black mirrors against the gray sky.
Lin Wei tightened her grip on her handbag.
She had barely slept.
The anonymous phone call from the previous night had changed everything. Before then, she had believed the discrepancy was something she could investigate professionally. She had expected resistance, perhaps bureaucratic delays or an uncomfortable conversation with her supervisor.
She had not expected a stranger to know exactly what she had been examining.
She had not expected a warning.
And she certainly had not expected to feel watched on her own journey home.
Yet she had made a decision during the sleepless hours before dawn.
She needed physical evidence.
Digital records could be altered.
Server logs could be deleted.
Access histories could be manipulated.
But paper vouchers were different.
Hengsheng's financial compliance policy required original authorization documents for major international transactions to be preserved for seven years. Every payment exceeding ten million yuan required multiple signatures, including approval from the financial director and confirmation from the relevant subsidiary.
If the forty-two-million-yuan Seaborn payment was legitimate, the original authorization voucher should exist.
If it did not exist, that would be a problem.
A very serious one.
Lin Wei entered the building through the employee entrance.
The receptionist looked surprised to see her so early.
"Good morning, Auditor Lin."
"Morning."
The security guard checked her employee badge and waved her through.
The elevator carried her silently toward the finance department.
When the doors opened on the forty-second floor, Lin Wei stepped into darkness.
Almost everyone was still at home.
The office lights were off, and the rows of glass cubicles looked strangely lifeless.
She walked straight toward the secure archive room at the rear of the finance department.
Archive Room 4.
The room contained physical financial records from Hengsheng's international operations. Unlike ordinary files, access required both an electronic keycard and a manual archive key.
Lin Wei inserted her keycard.
A green light appeared.
She unlocked the second mechanism and pushed open the door.
Cold air rushed over her face.
The archive room was kept several degrees colder than the rest of the building to protect paper documents from humidity.
Rows of metal cabinets stretched from one end of the room to the other.
Labels marked different years, subsidiaries, countries, and financial divisions.
Lin Wei switched on the overhead lights.
She walked toward the cabinet marked:
2024 — INTERNATIONAL OPERATIONS
Her footsteps echoed softly against the concrete floor.
She stopped at cabinet 14-B.
Her fingers tightened around the manual key.
She inserted it.
Turned.
Click.
The drawer opened.
The files were arranged alphabetically.
Apex Digital Systems.
Asia Maritime Holdings.
Blue Harbor Logistics.
Seaborn Trading.
Lin Wei reached for the Seaborn folder.
She opened it.
Her expression changed immediately.
The folder was empty.
She checked again.
Perhaps the documents had been placed in another section.
She searched the neighboring folders.
Nothing.
She returned to the Seaborn section.
The plastic sleeves were still there.
But the documents inside them were gone.
The authorization vouchers.
The approval forms.
The original payment instructions.
Everything had disappeared.
Lin Wei stared at the empty folder.
"No..."
She pulled open the drawer beneath it.
Nothing.
She checked cabinet 14-C.
Nothing.
She searched the neighboring files.
Still nothing.
Her breathing became faster.
Someone had removed the physical evidence.
She turned toward the archive door.
It was still closed.
No one else was inside.
Lin Wei walked to the sign-out sheet attached to the cabinet.
Every person who removed an original financial document was required to record the date, time, file number, employee ID, and signature.
She scanned the entries.
Monday.
Tuesday.
Wednesday.
Her own name appeared beside the Seaborn file.
LIN WEI — 18:23 — ROUTINE AUDIT REVIEW.
That was her entry from two days earlier.
She continued down the page.
There was no entry after hers.
"No one signed this out."
She looked at the lock.
At first, it appeared normal.
Then she noticed something.
Tiny scratches surrounded the keyhole.
Lin Wei leaned closer.
The scratches were fresh.
Someone had forced the lock.
But why?
They could have simply removed the documents during office hours.
Instead, someone had entered the archive after hours and deliberately bypassed the access procedure.
Her stomach tightened.
She took out her phone and photographed the lock.
Then the sign-out sheet.
Then the empty folder.
She was about to photograph the entire cabinet when she heard footsteps outside.
Lin Wei immediately stepped back.
The archive door opened.
A familiar face appeared.
"You're here early."
Lin Wei turned.
Zhang Yu stood in the doorway holding two cups of coffee.
He looked tired.
His normally relaxed expression had disappeared.
"I could say the same about you," Lin Wei replied.
He stepped inside and closed the door.
"I've been working since five."
"Server maintenance?"
"Partly."
He handed her one of the coffee cups.
Lin Wei accepted it but didn't drink.
Zhang Yu noticed the open cabinet.
His expression changed.
"What happened?"
"The Seaborn vouchers are gone."
He walked toward her.
"Gone?"
"Completely."
He examined the empty folder.
"Did you check the sign-out record?"
"There's no record."
Zhang Yu's eyes narrowed.
"Then someone removed them illegally."
"That's what I think."
He looked at the lock.
"Someone picked this."
Lin Wei nodded.
"I photographed it."
"Good."
Zhang Yu became silent.
Then he asked, "Did you tell Manager Zhao?"
"Not yet."
"Don't."
Lin Wei looked at him.
"Why?"
"Because you don't know who you can trust."
The words hung between them.
Lin Wei studied his face.
"You warned me last night."
Zhang Yu frowned.
"What?"
"The phone call."
"What phone call?"
"Someone called me after I left the office. They knew I had accessed Seaborn."
Zhang Yu's expression hardened.
"What exactly did they say?"
Lin Wei repeated the conversation.
When she finished, Zhang Yu looked toward the archive door.
"Did they threaten you?"
"Indirectly."
"Lin, listen to me carefully."
His voice had become unusually serious.
"You need to stop using the company network for anything related to Seaborn."
"I haven't accessed it since last night."
"Good."
He pulled out his phone.
"I want to show you something."
He opened a security application.
Several lines of system logs appeared.
"At 8:14 last night, your account triggered a restricted-file alert."
Lin Wei frowned.
"I opened the Seaborn file at 8:07."
"Exactly."
"What's wrong with that?"
"The alert wasn't generated when you opened the file."
She looked at him.
"When was it generated?"
"Six minutes later."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
Zhang Yu scrolled through the information.
"But that's not the strange part."
He pointed to another entry.
"Someone accessed the security dashboard at 8:21."
Lin Wei leaned closer.
"Who?"
"That's the problem."
"The user ID has been deleted."
Her blood ran cold.
"Deleted?"
"Completely."
"Can you recover it?"
"I can try."
Zhang Yu looked at her.
"But there's something else."
He opened another screen.
A list of archive access records appeared.
"Someone entered Archive Room 4 at 11:37 last night."
Lin Wei stared at the screen.
"Who?"
"Your employee card."
Silence filled the room.
Lin Wei felt as though the floor had shifted beneath her.
"My card was with me."
"I know."
"I was at home."
"I know."
"Then someone cloned it."
Zhang Yu nodded.
"Or someone used an administrator override."
Lin Wei's mind raced.
They had known about her investigation.
They had entered her apartment.
They had warned her.
Now someone had used her credentials to access the archive and remove the physical evidence.
Everything was connected.
But there was something even more disturbing.
"Why would they leave the sign-out sheet untouched?" she asked.
Zhang Yu looked at her.
"Maybe they didn't have time."
"No."
Lin Wei shook her head.
"They're too careful."
She pointed toward the sheet.
"They wanted me to see that nobody signed the file out."
Zhang Yu stared at the page.
"You think it's deliberate?"
"I think they're sending me a message."
Before he could respond, the door opened again.
This time, neither of them had heard footsteps.
Manager Zhao stood outside.
His expression was unreadable.
"What are you two doing in here?"
Lin Wei immediately straightened.
"Routine verification."
Zhao looked at the open cabinet.
His eyes lingered there for several seconds.
Then he looked at Lin Wei.
"Close the drawer."
Lin Wei hesitated.
"Manager Zhao, the Seaborn vouchers are missing."
"I know."
Her heart stopped.
"You know?"
Zhao's face remained expressionless.
"I received a report this morning."
"From whom?"
"Compliance."
"When?"
"Before I arrived."
Lin Wei exchanged a glance with Zhang Yu.
Zhao stepped inside.
"From this moment, you are not authorized to access this archive without written approval."
Lin Wei's suspicion deepened.
"Why?"
"Because an internal review has been opened."
"An investigation?"
"Yes."
"Regarding Seaborn?"
Zhao paused.
"Regarding unauthorized access to restricted financial records."
Lin Wei felt a cold sensation in her chest.
"Who is being investigated?"
Zhao looked directly at her.
"You."
For several seconds, nobody spoke.
Zhang Yu stepped forward.
"Manager Zhao, that doesn't make sense. Lin reported the discrepancy."
Zhao's eyes moved toward him.
"I wasn't speaking to you."
The room became painfully quiet.
Lin Wei understood.
The trap had already been set.
They weren't simply trying to hide the missing money.
They were preparing to make her responsible for discovering it.
Zhao held out his hand.
"Your employee badge."
Lin Wei stared at him.
"Why?"
"Security has temporarily suspended your archive privileges."
She slowly removed her badge and placed it in his palm.
Zhao turned toward the door.
Then he stopped.
Without looking back, he said quietly:
"Auditor Lin, sometimes the safest thing to do is stop asking questions when you don't understand the answer."
He walked out.
The door closed.
Lin Wei remained motionless.
Zhang Yu looked at her.
"He's scared."
Lin Wei shook her head.
"No."
She picked up her handbag.
"He's warning me."
She looked once more at the empty Seaborn folder.
Someone had removed the evidence.
Someone had cloned her identity.
And now management was beginning an investigation against her.
But Lin Wei knew one thing.
She had copied the original transaction analysis before any of this began.
The encrypted USB drive was still in her possession.
And whoever had started this game had made one mistake.
They had underestimated how far she was willing to go to uncover the truth.
As Lin Wei walked out of Archive Room 4, the office lights on the forty-second floor suddenly flickered.
For less than a second, every monitor in the department went black.
Then they came back on.
On one forgotten workstation, a single document opened automatically.
- Writer
