Chapter 13 - The Wall That Had to Stay
Saturday morning, Talia stood outside the burned music hall in the rain. The building's front windows were boarded, its carved stone letters blackened. Across the street hung a glossy developer's banner promising a new luxury shopping arcade.
"My dad taught kids to polish shoes for their auditions here," she said. "Martin wants the place gone so nobody remembers what it used to be."
Collins arrived with a fire investigator, the city's building inspector, and a signed order permitting the team to secure specific potential evidence while the court considered wider preservation. The crew wore hard hats and moved only through sections judged safe enough to enter. Nobody charged into a collapsing ruin for the sake of a dramatic discovery.
They found the basement panel where Adam had marked it: a rectangle of newer mortar tucked behind the old rehearsal-room stair. An investigator documented the seams, then removed a sample under controlled conditions. Beneath the patch was a length of wire cut cleanly away from the alarm circuit, along with a manufacturer tag and a serial number.
It matched the tag in Adam's ledger.
A city technician checked the system records. The alarm had been disabled at 10:52 p.m., nearly an hour before anyone reported smoke. Adam had been on a recorded bus ride home at 10:41. The original trial had put him near the building at 11:30, based on a poor-quality image that now looked disturbingly like someone wearing his work jacket.
Talia stared at the disconnected wire. "Dad was standing in a room with no alarm."
"Someone gave him no warning," the investigator said. "And that difference matters."
Outside, a demolition supervisor approached with a phone to his ear. "My boss says this inspection is interfering with a licensed job."
Collins showed him the order. "The work stops in the designated area. Take it up with the court."
The supervisor walked away, red-faced. Owen saw Martin Cross standing beyond the barrier, his expensive coat untouched by the rain. The older man raised a hand as if they were neighbors meeting at church.
Owen didn't wave back.
A junior investigator hurried toward Collins carrying a printed dispatch log. "We found Wade's emergency call," she said. "The record was reclassified after the fire."
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"By whom?" Collins asked.
The investigator looked from the page to Martin across the street. "A city administrator who now works as Martin Cross's director of security."
