“Judge Simmons cleared up the 2013 land access authorization entry on his way back to chambers,” Daniel said, slipping his glasses back on.

“What did he say?” I asked.

“He signed the emergency land access authorization himself ten years ago,” Daniel said.

“Your grandfather Thomas went to Simmons on a Tuesday night before he died, brought the boundary survey, and had Simmons countersign it as a witness so nobody could ever change the access lane.”

I nodded once, looking out through the tall glass doors at High Street, where two city buses were idling in the cold slush.

Daniel opened his black leather briefcase and took out a blue paper folder holding certified copies of the forged option contract and Robert’s false tax statements.