Daniel Harris stood in the upstairs hallway with his weight on his rear heel, eyeing the open closet the way he eyed every doorway.

Ruth Cole, the investigator, photographed the baseboard first, then the blank plate next to the closet frame.

“That’s no light switch,” she said.

“It’s at the wrong height, and there’s no light on this wall.”

Daniel crouched down and ran his thumbnail along the seam where the paint had been cut and patched over.

“Somebody opened up this wall.”

“Opened it, put something inside, and closed it back up.” Ruth’s shutter clicked twice.

“The space behind here isn’t original.