“I know,” Ethan said.

“Alan gets into his corner office at seven thirty every Friday morning without fail.”

He pressed the call button and switched to speakerphone, laying the phone flat on the oak table between us.

The line rang twice before a sharp click came through in the small room.

“Vance,” a brisk, clipped voice barked through the speaker.

Background noise hummed behind him, the distinct metallic rattle of keys and distant office chatter.

“Alan, it’s Ethan,” he said.