Frank pressed the communication device again.
"Dispatch, there are witnesses on the platform. One passenger is recording."
"Copy that, Frank. Please do not engage with the officer. Medical assistance is being arranged."
Vance heard the response.
He looked at the device.
"Who is dispatch talking to?"
Frank did not answer.
"Tell me who you're calling."
Frank looked at him calmly.
"You already heard them."
Vance stepped closer.
"I want to know who authorized you to use that channel."
Frank's expression did not change.
"That isn't your concern right now."
The answer seemed to irritate Vance more than any accusation had.
He looked toward the staircase again. A faint sound of footsteps came from somewhere above the platform. It was difficult to tell whether the sound belonged to ordinary commuters or approaching officers.
Vance touched his shoulder radio.
"Control, this is Officer Vance. I need an update."
There was a brief burst of static.
"Go ahead, Vance."
"I have an individual on the platform making an unusual claim. He says he has some kind of serial-number record. I need to know whether there is an active response."
The dispatcher paused.
"Stand by."
Vance glanced at Frank.
"See? Nobody knows what you're talking about."
Frank remained quiet.
The radio crackled again.
"Vance, your location has been flagged for an active verification request. Maintain your position and do not interfere with the individual or any property involved."
Vance frowned.
"Can you clarify who initiated that request?"
"Stand by for further instructions."
The transmission ended.
Vance lowered his hand.
His eyes moved toward the envelope hidden inside his vest.
He had thought about removing it. He had considered placing it somewhere nearby and claiming that he had only secured it temporarily. But with people watching and the radio traffic becoming increasingly specific, any movement involving the envelope could make matters worse.
He decided to wait.
Frank watched him carefully.
The pain in his shoulder had become more noticeable. His hip throbbed whenever he tried to shift his weight, and his back felt stiff from the fall.
He was not sure how long he could remain on the floor.
But he did not want to move without assistance.
The dispatcher had told him to stay where he was, and for once, he intended to follow that instruction exactly.
Karen moved closer.
"Sir, are you hurt?"
Frank turned his head toward her.
"My shoulder. My hip."
"Do you want me to call an ambulance?"
"Dispatch has already been notified. Thank you."
She nodded.
"I saw what happened. He took your envelope."
Frank looked at her.
"Did you see him put it inside his vest?"
"Yes. I started recording right after he shoved you."
"Please keep the recording."
"I will."
Vance interrupted.
"Ma'am, I already told you to step back."
Karen looked at him.
"And I already told you I'm recording."
"You are interfering with an official matter."
"No. I'm documenting what I saw."
Vance moved one step toward her.
The middle-aged man immediately stepped between them.
"Leave her alone."
The officer stopped.
For a moment, the platform seemed to tighten around them. Nobody wanted to approach Vance, but nobody seemed willing to pretend that the incident was normal anymore.
Then Frank's communication device crackled.
"Frank Miller, this is Dispatch. Can you hear me?"
Frank pressed the button.
"Yes. I'm here."
"We have located the preliminary record associated with your withdrawal. We are comparing the serial numbers you supplied with the information on file."
Frank closed his eyes briefly.
"Understood."
"Can you confirm the envelope contained the full amount you reported?"
"Yes. I counted it before leaving the bank."
"Do you still have your withdrawal receipt?"
"It is in my inside jacket pocket."
"Do not attempt to retrieve it while you are on the ground. Wait for assistance."
Frank looked toward Vance.
The officer had gone completely still.
The dispatcher continued.
"We are also notifying the appropriate supervisory personnel. Please remain calm."
"Thank you."
Frank released the button.
Vance's expression had become harder to read.
He looked angry, but beneath the anger was something else. His eyes moved quickly between Frank, the passengers, and the staircase.
He was searching for an explanation that would make the situation manageable.
"Who gave you that device?" he asked.
Frank did not answer.
"Are you some kind of informant?"
"No."
"Then why are they treating this like a priority?"
"Because I asked them to verify the money."
"That's not how things work."
Frank looked at him.
"Maybe you should have thought about that before taking it."
Vance clenched his jaw.
"You're making accusations you can't prove."