It meant I had ten minutes, maybe twelve, and it meant he could not hear a thing.

I pulled the case back out, keyed in the anniversary, and opened it again.

Then I took out my phone and began to photograph everything.

I did it the way I’d been trained to document evidence, methodically and completely, because a half-photographed ledger proves nothing and a case built on gaps falls apart in a courtroom.

Every page of all three ledgers.

The bills of lading with Jim’s signature and the port’s official stamp.