Arthur Delbury did not open the door.
Not yet.
He stood alone in his office, staring at the brass key inside its evidence envelope.
W-17.
The letters had become more irritating than mysterious.
He had spent days trying to understand them.
Now he had a possible location.
A former placement office.
A basement room.
A pattern connecting several properties.
But Arthur had learned something over the years.
A pattern was not evidence until it survived an attempt to destroy it.
He pulled the latest property records toward him.
Three buildings.
Three different companies.
Three different owners.
Three different purposes.
Yet all three had once been connected to the same administrative classification.
Private placement coordination.
Arthur circled the phrase.
Then he wrote beneath it:
WHY?
He didn't assume the answer.
He started again.
The first building had operated as an employment office.
The second had been registered as a temporary labour agency.
