Nobody answered.
He looked down at the page.
Then toward the warrant team.
One name was written beside the entry.
Officer Mitchell Granger — courthouse liaison present at scene.
Cross looked up.
“You weren't supposed to search anything.”
Granger’s jaw tightened.
“I didn’t.”
Cross flipped another page.
“Then why is your name beside the briefcase?”
“I was helping identify personal property.”
“You’re not evidence tech.”
“I know that.”
“Not assigned to the warrant team.”
“No.”
“Then why were you standing at Judge Hayes’s desk before I entered?”
Granger did not answer.
Rosalind watched Captain Miller slowly understand that the footage from the night before might not be enough.
They needed the morning.
“Philip,” Miller said.
“Do you have today?”
Philip nodded.
“Continuous archive.”
“Start at eight.”
The morning footage was different.
Color.
Daylight.
Rosalind had been moved to an adjacent conference room when the warrant team arrived.
The chamber camera showed officers enter at 8:12.
Captain Miller.
Detective Cross.
Two evidence technicians.
Internal Affairs observer.
And Mitchell Granger.
Miller looked at the screen.
“I told him to wait in the hall.”
Cross nodded.
“He said he was liaison.”
Granger said nothing.
On screen, everyone spread out.
One technician photographed the desk.
Cross opened the lower drawer.
Empty.
Naturally.
The original planted pouch had been removed and secured by courthouse security nearly two hours earlier.
Granger stood near the door.
Watching.
Then an officer in the hall called Captain Miller.
Miller stepped out.
The evidence technician followed him briefly to clarify something.
Cross moved toward the filing cabinet.
For seven seconds, Granger was the only person beside the desk.
Seven seconds.
The footage showed him glance toward the door.
Then reach down.
Not into the drawer.
Into the open leather briefcase beside Rosalind’s chair.
His hand disappeared inside.
Came out empty.
He stepped away.
Detective Cross returned eleven seconds later.
He searched the briefcase.
And found the narcotics.
Philip paused.
Nobody in the room breathed.
Cross looked at Granger.
“You son of a bitch.”
Granger moved.
Fast.
Cross reached him first.
Granger tried to push past.
The young internal affairs investigator closed the door.
Captain Miller caught Granger’s wrist.
“Don’t.”
“Get off me!”
“Mitch.”
“I said get off!”
Cross grabbed his other arm.
This time Miller did not stop the cuffs.
The ratcheting clicks filled the chamber.
Once.
Twice.
Granger’s face twisted.
“You’re arresting me based on a camera you didn't even know existed?”
Captain Miller stared at him.
“No.”
He looked toward the briefcase.
“I’m detaining you because I just watched you put something into a judge’s bag moments before narcotics were found there.”
“You don't know what it was.”
Cross laughed without humor.
“Then maybe we'll test everything.”
Granger’s face changed.
Rosalind saw it.
Not fear of arrest.
Fear of testing.
That told her there was more.
The hidden chamber camera had existed for eleven months.