Professor Dayton tilts the magnifying glass, and the symbol on the ledger margin blooms under candlelight. His hand goes still. The study seems to tighten around the table.
Professor Dayton
This mark is not a signature. It is a family cipher, old harbor money, the sort that hides cargo, names, and deaths in plain sight.
Dallas Fontaine
The ledger has a second story. That symbol is the key.
Professor Dayton
If you bring me the storage manifest from the old customs annex, I can decode the rest of this trail. In return, I give you the name that sits above Bell, and a map to where the files were moved.
He reaches into a brass drawer and sets a tiny wrapped packet beside the negatives, careful as a mortician. Inside is a brittle address card and a narrow photograph of a dockside seal.
Professor Dayton
Do this quickly, Mr. Fontaine. The annex will be watched, and the man paying for silence will want that manifest gone.
The candle gutters. Dayton taps the packet once, offering the reward without another word.
Get the old customs annex storage manifest
Learn the name that sits above Bell