Even if admitting that terrified me more than anything Harrow could do.
We tookthe Tube to the Temple station, emerged into morning London that smelled like rain and exhaust and the particular desperation of people rushing to jobs they hated. Thecourthouse was nineteenth century stone that had watched more corruption than I could catalogue, protected by modern security and ancient bureaucracy in equal measure.
I approached the main entrance with Dom at my shoulder, both of us wearing the confidence of people who belonged here. The security checkpoint was staffed by a woman in her fifties who looked like she'd seen every variation of human stupidity and remained unimpressed.
“IDs,” she said without looking up.
We handed them over.
“Mr. Dean. Mr. Talis. Purpose of visit?”
“Case file review,” I said smoothly. “Corporate dispute requiring access to sealed testimony from previous litigation. We have authorisation.” I handed her paperwork I'd forged last night, official-looking forms with signatures that would pass casual inspection.
She studied the documents, then us, then the documents again. “These are for records in the main archive. Not administrative.”
“The case cross-references administrative testimony. We need access to both.” I smiled. “Unless there's a problem? We were told this was approved.”
“Who told you that?”
“Judge Harrow's office. We're coordinating with his circuit on disclosure requirements.” The lie slid out smooth as glass. “If there's confusion, I'm happy to call his chambers and clarify.”
Her expression shifted. Harrow's name carried weight here. Opened doors or closed them depending on context. “That won't be necessary. But administrative access requires escort. I'll call someone down.”
“Of course. We'll wait.”
She made a call. We stood in the security area, surrounded by marble and the echoing voices of people who thought justicehappened in these halls. Dom's presence beside me was warm and solid.
The escort arrived: a clerk in his twenties who looked like he'd rather be anywhere else. “Mr. Dean? Mr. Talis? Follow me please.”
We followed him through corridors that grew progressively less public, through security doors that required his badge, into administrative wings where the courthouse's real work happened away from cameras and witnesses. My memory catalogued everything. Camera angles. Guard rotations. Keypad entry codes I caught glimpses of when doors opened.
The clerk led us to a records room that was exactly what it claimed: filing cabinets, dusty boxes, the particular smell of old paper and bureaucratic neglect. “You can work here. I'll be back in an hour to escort you out.”
“Thank you.”
He left. The door locked behind him with a click that meant we were trapped as much as granted access.
Dom moved to the window, checked sight lines. “We're on the third floor. Two exits visible. Both monitored.”
“Noted.” I was already scanning the room, looking for what the clerk hadn't shown us. The real archive wasn't here. This was stage dressing, the place they brought people who asked questions. “Help me move this cabinet.”
“Why?”
“Because the real archive is behind it.” I'd studied the building's floor plan, memorised the renovations that had happened fifteen years ago. Knew that sealed evidence didn't sit in public-facing rooms. “Harrow's too careful to leave sensitive materials where auditors could stumble across them.”
We moved the cabinet. Behind it, barely visible, was a door. No handle. No obvious lock. Just a keypad and a card reader.
“Can you open it?” Dom asked.
“Give me two minutes.” I pulled lock pick tools from my jacket, knelt at the keypad and started working. The system was old, and vulnerable. I bypassed the card reader with a device I'd built myself, spoofed an authorisation signal, watched the light turn green.
The door clicked open.
Beyond was exactly what I'd expected. Smaller room. Climate controlled. Shelves of evidence boxes organised by case number. And in the corner, a filing cabinet marked with codes I recognised from Lily's case file.
“That's it,” I said quietly. “That's where they buried her.”
Dom moved past me, his body radiating controlled fury, his hands already reaching for the cabinet.
