Even after everything that had happened, he could not understand that information could be more valuable than a diamond.

When I arrived home that evening, I opened the suitcase.

The blue lining had faded, and one corner had been patched with thread my grandmother used to keep in her sewing basket.

The folder lay beneath a stack of winter sweaters.

I lifted it out and sorted through the earliest pages.

There was the first anomalous invoice.

The schedule of vendor payments.

Notes I’d made after Dennis dismissed my questions.