Sodium light flickers over the loading bay. Voss lies slack on the wet concrete, and Dallas keeps moving, blood on his cuffs, revolver low.

He rolls the Councilman onto his back and searches fast, methodical, taking wallet, keys, and the soaked coat as the body goes still under his hands.

Dallas slips two fingers inside the lining and finds a small encrypted keycard tucked into the seam, clean and dry in a plastic sleeve.

The card catches the light, stamped with a records office access code. It matches the trail Voss named before he died.

Dallas pockets it and looks down at the papers spread across the concrete, the final link snapping into place. The records office is next.

Dallas rises from the body and turns it toward the light. The bay stays silent except for rain ticking on steel.

He works with a blade and a steady hand, cutting away the tongue, then sealing it in a clear evidence pouch before it can stain the papers.

The mouth is the last place a lie leaves the body.

Dallas lifts his camera and takes the shot, flash bleaching Voss's face, the scattered pages, and the card in his palm.

He takes a second frame closer in, tongue gone, the dead councilman reduced to a warning with a paper trail.

Murderbone shifts beside him, ears high, watching the dark mouth of the loading bay while Dallas slips the pouch and photo into his coat.