Malik looked up.
Vance said:
“I never signed this.”
Claire examined.
Forgery maybe.
“What item?”
The handgun recovered sixty miles away.
Supposedly destroyed.
Vance continued:
“I found this copy in my mailbox six weeks ago.”
“Why didn't you report it?”
“I thought someone was threatening me.”
“They were.”
“I know that now.”
Claire's voice hardened.
“You withheld evidence connected to an active corruption inquiry.”
“Yes.”
“That makes you a problem even if you're not the leak.”
Vance nodded.
“I know.”
Malik watched him.
Fearful.
Ashamed.
Maybe truthful.
“Who had access to your signature?”
“Anyone with prior forms.”
Too many.
Vance looked toward Malik.
“Whitaker called me three days before he died.”
Malik leaned forward.
“What did he say?”
“He asked if I knew Sergeant Blake had been signing evidence transports outside his assignment.”
“And?”
“I told him Blake sometimes covered staffing shortages.”
“Was that true?”
“Yes.”
“Did he ask anything else?”
Vance hesitated.
“He asked about Northstar.”
Claire said:
“What specifically?”
“Whether they ever transported sealed narcotics.”
“Did they?”
“They weren't supposed to.”
Malik's eyes narrowed.
“Were they?”
Vance looked away.
“Once.”
“When?”
“Two years ago.”
“Why?”
“Evidence van broke down.”
“Blake arranged subcontract transport.”
“Northstar transported controlled evidence?”
“Yes.”
Claire's jaw tightened.
That was a catastrophic chain-of-custody violation if undocumented.
“Was it reported?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
Vance looked tired.
“Because nothing went missing.”
Malik almost laughed.
“You sure about that?”
Vance said nothing.
The handgun.
The opioids.
The watch.
Things had gone missing.
Maybe not that day.
Maybe that was when the door opened.
The next breakthrough came from an unexpected place.
Booking clerk Maya Reynolds.
The same woman who said Blake shoved Malik first.
She asked to speak privately.
Malik expected fear.
Instead she brought a notebook.
Handwritten.
Dates.
Times.
Names.
For eighteen months, Maya had quietly recorded after-hours evidence movements because discrepancies kept appearing in booking inventory.
Why not use official system?
Because Blake supervised it.
She did not trust him.
Malik looked at her notebook.
“Why didn't you report this?”
Maya laughed without humor.
“To Blake?”
“Chief.”
“He's impossible to reach.”
“Vance?”
“He'd ask Blake.”
“Internal affairs?”
“One detective handling entire department.”
Malik nodded.
“And you thought a notebook was safer.”
“Yes.”
Claire sat beside him.
Maya turned pages.
“Every time evidence came through after midnight, I wrote it.”
She pointed.
Three entries showed Blake receiving sealed items without second officer present.
Two listed Northstar vehicles.
One was particularly important.
Fourteen months earlier.
The date matched destruction of sixteen-kilogram opioid batch.
Blake signed the evidence out at 11:42 p.m.
Northstar van arrived 12:06.
Left 12:31.
Official destruction certificate claimed police transport delivered the evidence to incineration facility at 10:15 the next morning.
Malik stared.
Twelve hours missing.
Claire asked:
“Do cameras exist?”
Maya shook her head.