Dallas reaches the top step and freezes with his revolver trained on the office gap. The lamp throws a hard oval of light across a cluttered desk, and a man hunches over papers with his back exposed.

The room smells of paper dust, cold coffee, and wet rope. On the desk, a ledger, a half-burned cigarette, and a dock keycard sit within arm’s reach. The man’s hand hovers over a drawer that is already cracked open.

Murderbone stiffens at Dallas’s side, silent and coiled. The hunched man starts to turn, catching the edge of movement in the doorway.

Dallas has him now, face to face with the broker behind the transfers, the names, and the paper trail that led to his daughter’s murder.

Dallas keeps the revolver leveled while he steps in closer, eyes cutting from Tate to the desk.

With his free hand, he rakes the ledger aside and pulls the drawer wider. Papers, a keycard, and a folded slip slide into view.

Tate stops halfway up from his chair, hands lifting a little as he sees Dallas already reading the top page.

Dallas snaps the folded slip open. It matches Sloane's notes, and a second name is written beneath the account figures, fresh enough to matter.

He takes the keycard too, then slides the ledger free so Tate cannot snatch it back. Tate stays covered, frozen under the lamp, as voices drift faintly from the hall outside.