Derek entered his office and closed the glass door.
He placed his phone on the desk, loosened his tie slightly, and opened the dealership's internal management system.
He wanted to settle the situation quickly.
If the elderly man had a legitimate appointment, Derek would simply hand the matter over to administration. If not, he would ask him to leave.
Either way, he did not intend to waste his entire morning.
He called the dealership's administration department.
A receptionist answered.
"Sterling Crown Motors administration. How may I direct your call?"
"This is Derek Collins from sales. I need to speak with Mr. Harrison."
"Mr. Harrison is currently in a meeting."
"It's regarding a customer collection."
"May I have the customer's name?"
"Walter Bennett."
There was a pause.
"Mr. Bennett?"
"Yes."
Another pause followed.
"Please hold."
Derek frowned.
He had expected the receptionist to transfer him immediately.
Instead, the call was placed on hold for nearly a minute.
Finally, a male voice answered.
"This is David."
"Hi, David. It's Derek Collins from the showroom."
"Yes, Derek. What do you need?"
"I'm dealing with a gentleman named Walter Bennett. He's here to collect a vehicle and claims Mr. Harrison personally authorized the arrangement."
David became silent.
"Is Mr. Bennett still there?"
"Yes."
"Has he presented the documentation?"
"Not yet."
"Then ask him to show you the ownership certificate."
Derek frowned.
"Ownership certificate?"
"Yes. The document should be in his folder."
Derek looked through the glass wall toward Walter.
"All right."
"One more thing, Derek."
"Yes?"
"Do not release anything until Mr. Harrison arrives."
Derek nodded.
"Understood."
David's voice became more serious.
"And please make sure you handle the situation professionally."
The call ended.
Derek stared at his phone for a moment.
There was something strange about the conversation.
Why had David sounded so careful?
Why had he specifically mentioned an ownership certificate?
And why had he instructed Derek not to release anything before the owner arrived?
Derek returned to the showroom.
Walter was still seated, calmly reading something on his phone.
"Mr. Bennett."
Walter lowered the device.
"Yes?"
"I've spoken with administration."
"And?"
"They've asked to inspect your documentation."
Walter nodded.
"Of course."
He reached for his brown leather folder.
Unlike the ordinary paper folders Derek had seen customers carry, this one was made from thick, carefully maintained leather. Its edges showed signs of age, but the brass clasp was polished.
Walter opened it.
Inside were several documents arranged in separate transparent sleeves.
He removed one sheet.
It was printed on official company stationery, with a distinctive embossed seal at the bottom.
He handed it to Derek.
"Here you are."
Derek accepted it.
At first, he scanned the page casually.
Then his eyes stopped.
He read the heading again.
It was not an ordinary purchase receipt.
It was an official ownership certificate.
The vehicle identification number matched the dark blue sedan displayed in the showroom.
The dealership's legal department had signed the document.
The transaction had been recorded as completed.
And beneath the authorization section was a name that Derek had seen before.
Walter James Bennett.
He read the name again.
Then he looked at the elderly man.
"Wait."
Walter said nothing.
Derek examined the company seal.
He checked the signature.
Then he moved his eyes toward the final paragraph.
The wording was unmistakable.
The vehicle had been officially released to its rightful owner.
Derek's fingers tightened around the paper.
"Who gave you this?"
Walter looked at him.
"The owner."
Derek stared at the certificate.
"Who gave you this?" he repeated, louder.
Walter's expression remained unchanged.
"I believe you heard me the first time."
Derek looked at the signature again.
"Mr. Harrison authorized this?"
Walter nodded.
"That's what the document says."
Derek examined the date.
Everything matched.
The vehicle identification number was correct. The transaction reference was correct. Even the internal authorization code matched the dealership's records.
He turned the page over, hoping to find something that might explain the unusual arrangement.
Nothing.
It was completely legitimate.
"Sir, where did you get this certificate?"
Walter looked directly at him.
"From the owner."
"But why would he give it to you?"
Walter gave a subtle smile.
"Because it's my vehicle."
Derek felt an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach.
He had expected a receipt, perhaps a bank transfer confirmation, or a document showing that someone else had purchased the vehicle.
Instead, he was holding an official ownership certificate that appeared to leave no room for doubt.
He glanced toward the reception desk.
Emily was watching.
Michael had stopped typing.
Richard Hayes, the sales manager, had also noticed the conversation.
Derek lowered his voice.
"Sir, I need to understand something."
Walter folded his hands.
"Go ahead."
"How did you get this certificate?"
Walter repeated his answer.
"I got it from the owner."
Derek shook his head slightly.
"But why would he personally give you the original document?"
Walter glanced at his watch.
"Because he knew I was coming."
Derek looked increasingly unsettled.
"Are you saying Mr. Harrison is coming here today?"
Walter nodded.
"Yes."
"When?"
Walter looked toward the glass entrance.
"If everything is going according to schedule, he should be arriving any second now."
Derek opened his mouth to respond.
But before he could say anything, the automatic glass doors began to slide open.
A black luxury SUV had just pulled into the dealership driveway.
Several employees immediately turned toward the entrance.
And the man stepping out of that vehicle was the last person Derek wanted to see.