“I’ve drafted an emergency subpoena for Martha Higgins.”

Arthur lifted the phone to call the courthouse.

Martha Higgins was waiting for us beside the basement service elevator at the county records office.

She fiddled with an old bronze key ring as we came down the concrete corridor at one o’clock.

“I took the physical ledger out of the secure archive vault,” she said.

She cleared her throat anxiously and glanced back toward the stairs.

“Right now there are four corporate lawyers in gray suits sitting in the main lobby upstairs.”