“No.
I said it is not the documented necklace.”
Victor’s irritation surfaced.
“Semantics.”
“No.
Evidence.”
Cassian remained silent.
Victor turned toward him.
“This is exactly why these specialists are dangerous.
Give them a microscope and they invent catastrophes to justify their fee.”
Penelope felt no anger.
She had spent years in rooms where wealthy men assumed expertise became optional when delivered by a woman they had already underestimated.
She opened another file.
“Then you will enjoy this.”
She placed three dated photographs side by side.
“The original ruby was present two years ago.
It was gone eighteen months later.
During that period the piece remained in one storage facility.”
Victor glanced down.
“So someone at the facility stole it.”
“Maybe.”
Penelope added a fourth document.
“But according to this release form, the bracelet left storage twice.”
Victor’s face changed almost imperceptibly.
“Both releases were authorized by your office.”
Cassian finally spoke.
“Why?”
Victor recovered quickly.
“Insurance photography.
Catalog preparation.
There were dozens of movements.”
“Then there will be records,” Penelope said.
“There are.”
His confidence returned.
She nodded.
“Yes.
That is the problem.”
She slid a packing sheet forward.
The document listed the bracelet by inventory number, but the weight recorded after its second return was several grams lower than before it left.
Victor stared at it.
Cassian’s voice became very quiet.
“You signed the return.”
Victor laughed once.
“You cannot seriously believe I personally weighed every bracelet.”
“No,” Penelope said.
“But someone expected nobody else would.”
Victor turned on her.
“You have no idea who you are dealing with.”
The words hung in the room.
Cassian’s expression did not move.
Penelope simply folded her hands.
“That sentence usually sounds more impressive before the paperwork arrives.”
The door opened.
Cassian’s attorney entered carrying another folder.
This time Victor stopped smiling.
Cassian had followed Penelope’s advice.
