Inside were ordinary tools, a portable radio, and a small camera.
The camera contained photographs of the federal team arriving at the station.
There were also images of Rachel Whitmore's apartment.
And Officer Emily Carter's patrol car.
Daniel examined the photographs.
"He's been following all of them."
Olivia felt a chill.
Then the technician discovered another image.
It showed Olivia entering her apartment building in Washington, D.C.
The photograph had been taken four days earlier.
Daniel looked at her.
"Someone followed you home."
Olivia stared at the screen.
The Architect hadn't started watching her when she returned to Brookhaven.
He had been watching long before that.
The following morning, Brookhaven City Hall was filled with reporters.
Mayor Jonathan Whitlock stood behind a polished wooden podium, surrounded by American flags and senior city officials.
At fifty-eight, Whitlock was a charismatic politician with a reputation for rebuilding struggling neighborhoods.
He had won three elections by promising to make Brookhaven safer, wealthier, and more accountable.
His public approval ratings remained high despite the recent police corruption scandal.
Now, he faced a room full of cameras.
"The people of Brookhaven deserve transparency," Whitlock declared.
His voice carried across the chamber.
"No individual, regardless of rank or position, stands above the law."
Applause followed.
Whitlock waited patiently.
"Lieutenant Aaron Mercer's alleged misconduct represents a betrayal of public trust. My administration will cooperate fully with federal authorities."
Near the back of the room, Olivia watched silently.
Daniel stood beside her.
"He's good," Daniel murmured.
"He's practiced," Olivia replied.
Onstage, Whitlock continued.
"We will not allow corruption to define this great city."
Adrian Vale stood several feet behind the mayor.
He wore a navy-blue suit and a silver tie.
His expression was calm.
Almost bored.
Olivia studied him.
Vale occasionally leaned toward the mayor to whisper something.
Whitlock nodded without looking at him.
The relationship appeared natural.
A trusted adviser guiding a public official through a difficult moment.
But Olivia noticed that Vale wasn't watching the reporters.
He was watching the exits.
Then his eyes found hers.
For one brief second, neither looked away.
Vale smiled.
Not warmly.
Not nervously.
It was the controlled smile of a man who had recognized an expected guest.
Olivia felt Daniel shift beside her.
"He sees us."
"I know."
Vale whispered something to a security officer.
The officer immediately left the stage.
Seconds later, another man approached Olivia.
"Agent Bennett?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Vale would like a private word with you."
Daniel stepped forward.
"About what?"
"He didn't say."
Olivia looked toward the stage.
Vale had already disappeared through a side door.
She considered the invitation.
Then she nodded.
"Tell him we'll be there."
The security officer hesitated.
"He requested Agent Bennett alone."
Olivia smiled faintly.
"Then he'll be disappointed."
Adrian Vale's office occupied the upper floor of City Hall.
The room was spacious, with floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the Northbridge River.
Expensive paintings lined the walls.
A framed photograph showed Vale shaking hands with a former governor.
Another showed him standing beside Mayor Whitlock at the opening of a children's hospital.
When Olivia and Daniel entered, Vale was pouring coffee.
"Agent Bennett. Agent Price. Please, sit."
Olivia remained standing.
"We won't take much of your time."
Vale smiled.
"That sounds like something people say when they intend to take quite a lot of it."
He placed the coffee pot down.
"I understand you're investigating financial irregularities connected to the port."
Olivia watched him carefully.
"How did you hear that?"
"It's my job to know what affects the mayor's administration."
"Even confidential federal investigations?"
Vale spread his hands.
"Brookhaven is a small world."
Daniel spoke.
"Mr. Vale, do you know Lieutenant Aaron Mercer?"
"Of course. He's attended several public safety meetings."
"Have you ever discussed port security with him?"
"Many times."
"Privately?"
Vale tilted his head.
"Occasionally."
Olivia stepped closer to his desk.
"Have you ever paid him?"
The smile disappeared for a fraction of a second.
"Excuse me?"
"Have you ever transferred money, directly or indirectly, to Lieutenant Mercer?"
Vale leaned back.
"That's a serious accusation."
"It's a question."
"Then my answer is no."
Olivia placed a copy of one financial document on the desk.
Vale glanced at it.
His face remained composed.
"Where did you get this?"
"Does it look familiar?"
"It's a payment record."
"From a consulting company registered in your name."
"One of several companies I advise."
"The money moved through an account linked to a shipping contractor under federal investigation."
Vale folded his hands.
"Agent Bennett, I have represented dozens of corporations. Some have undoubtedly conducted business with people later accused of crimes."
"That isn't what I asked."
"Then perhaps you should be more precise."
Olivia studied him.
He was skilled.
Every answer was carefully measured.
Every sentence gave him room to retreat.
She decided to change direction.
"Do you know Rachel Whitmore?"
Vale frowned.
"The records employee?"
"Yes."
"I know of her."
"Have you spoken to her recently?"
"No."
"Do you know where she is?"
"No."
Olivia stepped closer.
"Someone abducted her after she discovered records connected to your company."
Vale's expression changed.
For the first time, he appeared genuinely concerned.
"Abducted? That's terrible."
"Yes. It is."