The stopwatch had returned to Vandenberg without leaving its evidence bag.
Van den Broeck had placed it on a rolling table between a copy of the plan seized in Berchem and a white envelope Mara had signed eight days earlier. The stopwatch screen remained black. Under plastic, the plan showed a corridor half of whose dimensions had now been crossed out by the depot itself. Since the alert, Vandenberg had changed procedures, relocated two checkpoints, and sealed a maintenance exit. The plan for a heist that had never happened was aging faster than an architect’s drawing.
“I’ll say it one last time,” Van Aelst said. “You will not see the sorting room, the vault, or the new access points.”
“I came for a door,” Mara replied.
“You also came for four stones ten days ago.”
Jacobs raised a finger before Mara could answer.
“Today she is here as someone who dated information before verification. Everything else is already in the file.”
Van Aelst disliked the wording. It showed in the way he looked at the bag containing the stopwatch, as though the object too had acquired a legal standing he considered excessive.
Inez stayed back by the wall. She held her own notebook but took no notes. They had fixed the rule in the car: Mara would speak last. No one would ask her to describe the repair before the envelope was opened. No one would show her the door before the text was read.
Van den Broeck put on gloves.
“Envelope received by Ms. De Witte on November 16 at 9:12 a.m.,” she said for the recording. “Sealed the same day. Photographs of the flap and signatures on file. It bears the wording ‘RESERVED TEST — do not open before protocol.’ Ms. Lenoir, do you confirm this is your handwriting?”
“Yes.”
“Do you confirm you haven’t reopened the envelope since?”
“I’ve never seen it open again.”
“That isn’t the same thing.”
“No. I confirm I haven’t reopened it.”
End of excerpt. Discover the other stories in this universe.