Chapter 12 - The Missing Envelope
"No one move!"
Dana's voice echoed through the room.
Every officer froze exactly where they stood.
The inspection room doors automatically locked as airport police activated internal security procedures.
Marcus looked around the room in disbelief.
The envelope had disappeared without anyone seeing it happen.
Everything else remained untouched.
The notebook.
The medals.
The cassette tapes.
The photographs.
The folded flag.
Only the blue-sealed envelope had vanished.
Dana immediately reviewed the room's security monitors.
The footage showed the lights flickering.
Then static.
Exactly one second.
When the image returned...
...the envelope was already missing.
"There has to be another camera angle."
"There isn't," the technician replied.
Marcus walked slowly around the evidence table.
"No broken seals."
"No damaged bags."
"No signs of forced entry."
The detective crouched beside the table.
Then he noticed something almost invisible on the polished floor.
A tiny fragment of blue sealing wax.
It hadn't fallen naturally.
It had been crushed by someone's shoe.
Marcus looked around the room.
Every officer wore standard black tactical boots.
Victor wore polished brown leather shoes.
One sole carried a faint streak of blue.
Marcus raised his eyes.
Victor smiled politely.
"You think I stole it?"
"I think you've walked somewhere you shouldn't."
Victor glanced down at his own shoe.
Only then did he realize the mistake.
Dana stepped forward.
"Sir, remain where you are."
Victor slowly raised both hands.
"I haven't touched anything."
Marcus wasn't listening anymore.
His attention had shifted to Eleanor.
She wasn't looking at Victor.
She was staring at the suitcase itself.
"Marcus..."
Her voice was barely audible.
"What's wrong?"
"The suitcase..."
"What about it?"
"It feels lighter."
Marcus immediately understood.
Everyone had assumed the envelope was the only missing item.
What if it wasn't?
The detectives carefully emptied every remaining object onto the inspection table.
Layer by layer.
Clothes.
Letters.
Blankets.
Photographs.
Gift boxes.
Nothing unusual.
Finally Marcus lifted the suitcase completely off the table.
His expression changed.
The suitcase should have weighed nearly twelve kilograms.
Instead...
...it felt almost hollow.
He turned it upside down.
One small brass screw rolled across the steel surface.
Dana stared at it.
"That wasn't there before."
Marcus examined the interior lining.
Near one corner, the fabric had been cut with extraordinary precision.
Someone hadn't stolen something from the evidence table.
Someone had already accessed the suitcase itself long before it reached airport security.
Hidden inside the lining was another narrow cavity.
It was empty.
But glued to the inside wall remained a single yellow adhesive label.
Printed across it was an inventory number.
Archive Case 27-B
Before Marcus could photograph it, the communications officer rushed back into the room, visibly out of breath.
"We've got another problem."
Dana looked up sharply.
"What happened?"
"The airport archive database just recorded a remote access request."
"From where?"
The officer swallowed.
"Locker 118."
Everyone in the room fell silent.
May you like
Because according to official records...
Locker 118 had been sealed and abandoned for more than a decade.
