Tall gray shelves ran from the floor up to the exposed water pipes along the ceiling.

Clara went straight to locker four, slid in a long silver key, and pulled open a heavy wire door.

She ran her index finger along a row of thick leather-bound ledger books until she stopped at a dark green binder marked 2012 Land Tax Accounts.

She laid the ledger flat on a wooden folding table in the middle of the room and flipped through the yellowed pages.

“Here it is,” Clara said, pointing a trimmed fingernail at a handwritten line near the bottom of page eighty-four.