The Case

Chapter 6

The live feed populated slowly, line by line.

Chloe scanned the entries without touching the mouse, letting her eyes adjust to the rhythm. Vendor names. Facility codes. Scheduled audits. Most of it was routine, dull by design, the kind of administrative noise that existed precisely so no one would listen closely. She waited for something to break that rhythm.

It did not take long.

A Helios Transport Solutions team was scheduled to arrive in Milan in four days’ time, listed as logistical support for a private vault reconfiguration. The note attached was brief, unremarkable, but the name of the operations coordinator was familiar. Chloe clicked through and confirmed it, then leaned back slightly, the chair creaking under the shift of her weight.

Milan was not on her original list.

She checked the calendar again, then opened a parallel window showing recent theft reports that had not yet crossed the value threshold that usually triggered international attention. There were two in northern Italy over the past year, both written off as local incidents, both occurring during internal reorganisation periods. Neither had been reviewed at her level.

She did not draw a line between them yet. Instead, she stood, picked up her phone, and walked out into the corridor.

The Records Office was quieter now, the earlier bustle replaced by the low hum of machines and occasional footsteps. The woman at the desk looked up as Chloe approached.

“You’re still here,” she said, not unkindly.

“Yep, I'm still here and so are you,” Chloe replied.

The woman smiled faintly. “Occupational hazard.”

Chloe leaned on the counter, lowering her voice without making a show of it. “I need to ask you something off the record.”

The woman hesitated, then nodded. “As long as it stays off.”

“Have you ever seen vendors request access reviews before an investigation is formally opened?” Chloe asked.

The woman frowned slightly, thinking. “Occasionally. Usually through legal. They frame it as compliance checks.”

“And do they usually name specific cases?”

“No,” the woman said. “That’s the odd part when it happens. They tend to be vague. Protects everyone.”

Chloe nodded. “Has anyone asked about Vienna recently?”

The woman’s eyebrows lifted. “Not officially.”

“But,” Chloe prompted.

“But someone from Legal requested a retrieval log this morning,” the woman said. “Didn’t say why and didn’t say who prompted it.”

“Which Legal?” Chloe asked.

“External liaison,” the woman said. “Contracts.”

…

Chloe thanked her and walked back toward her office with her mind already adjusting. External liaison meant vendor-facing. Contracts meant money. Someone had noticed her interest and decided to check what she might be able to see next.

She closed the office door behind her and returned to the desk, sitting down with a deliberate slowness that steadied her breathing. The feed was still updating. Milan remained the most recent entry.

She opened a secure internal directory and searched for the Helios coordinator’s contact information. There was an email address and a phone number, both flagged as business-only. Chloe stared at them for a moment, then closed the window.

Her phone buzzed, this time with Kovač’s name on the screen.

“Yes,” she said.

“You’ve got company,” he said.

“Define company.”

“Legal and Compliance are suddenly very interested in what constitutes ‘routine analysis,’” Kovač said. “They’re asking questions that don’t have answers yet.”

Chloe smiled faintly. “That’s new for them.”

He snorted. “You’re enjoying this.”

“I’m only doing my job,” she said.

There was a pause, then his tone shifted, this time it was less guarded. “Be careful, Chloe. Once vendors get nervous, they don’t sit still.”

“Neither do I,” she said.

“Where does this lead?” he asked.

“Somewhere we can’t map from here,” she replied. “That’s the point.”

He exhaled. “Just don’t disappear on me.”

“I won’t,” she said. “Not yet.”

…

After the call ended, Chloe returned to the Milan entry and opened the attached documentation. The language mirrored Vienna’s, Zurich’s and Singapore’s. She read it slowly, then opened a new note and typed a short message to the internal travel desk, framing it as a hypothetical query.

If an investigator were to observe a vendor audit abroad, what approvals would be required?

She sent it and closed the window before overthinking it.

An hour passed with no response. Chloe used the time to reread the legal inquiry that had arrived earlier, parsing its wording again. It asked whether Interpol intended to reopen a closed case. It did not ask why. It did not ask who was involved.

She drafted a reply.

‘At present, there is no decision to reopen the referenced case. Routine reviews are ongoing.’

She read it twice, then sent it.

The reply came back quickly.

‘Understood. Please advise if that status changes.’

Chloe leaned back and let her eyes close briefly, not in fatigue but in recalibration. The investigation had crossed an invisible line. Someone on the other side of it was now adjusting in response to her movements, which meant she needed to do the same.

The travel desk replied at last.

‘Observation-only travel requires departmental approval. Field authority is not implied.’

She smiled slightly and closed the message.

Observation was enough.

…

Later that afternoon, Fournier called her into her office. The deputy director’s space overlooked the river, large windows letting in more light than Chloe preferred. Fournier stood by the desk when Chloe entered, hands resting on its edge.

“You’ve provoked interest,” Fournier said, skipping pleasantries.

“I noticed,” Chloe said.

“You’ve also been careful,” Fournier added. “That’s why we’re still talking.”

Chloe waited.

“Milan,” Fournier said. “I assume that’s not coincidence.”

“It’s an opportunity,” Chloe replied. “One I don’t need authority to watch.”

Fournier studied her. “You’re asking for permission without asking for permission.”

“I’m asking you not to stop me,” Chloe said.

There was a long pause, the kind that allowed for reconsideration.

“You won’t engage,” Fournier said finally. “You won’t tip your hand.”

“I won’t,” Chloe replied.

“And if they notice you?” Fournier asked.

“They already have,” Chloe replied. “That’s totally unavoidable.”

Fournier nodded slowly. “Then keep it boring. The moment it stops looking boring, it becomes political.”

Chloe inclined her head. “Understood.”

As she left the office, her phone buzzed again, this time with an unfamiliar number. She stopped in the corridor, watching people pass, then answered.

“Martinez.”

“Detective Martinez,” a man said. His accent was light, European, difficult to place. His tone was polite and almost relaxed. “My name is Lucas Venn. I’m calling on behalf of Helios Transport Solutions.”

Chloe did not speak immediately.

“I understand you’ve been reviewing some historical material,” Venn continued. “We wanted to make ourselves available in case you had questions.”

“That’s considerate,” Chloe said.

“We value transparency,” he replied.

She could hear a faint smile in his voice.

“At this stage,” she said, “I don’t have questions.”

“Of course,” Venn replied. “If that changes, you know where to find us.”

“I do,” Chloe said.

The call ended.

She stood still for a moment with her phone in hand, then slipped it into her bag and continued down the corridor. The contact was premature, unnecessary, and therefore telling. Someone had decided it was better to speak than to remain silent.

…

Back in her office, Chloe opened the Milan entry again and flagged it for monitoring, then opened her calendar and blocked out the next two days entirely. Forty-eight hours had become less about proving a theory and more about staying ahead of reactions.

She shut down the terminal, gathered her notebook, and reached for her blazer.

As she turned off the light, the office returned to its neutral state, files locked away and screens dark. Outside, the building continued its routines, unaware of the small shift that had already taken place.

Chloe walked out with the quiet certainty that whatever waited in Milan was no longer just a pattern.

It was an answer in motion.