For several seconds, the corridor became a confused struggle. The inspection team withdrew toward the service door while trained officers restrained the men attempting to obstruct them. Elias was struck across the shoulder and pushed into an old pipe cover, but he managed to stay upright and protect the document bag carried by the records specialist. He did not pursue anyone once the immediate threat was contained; there was too much evidence nearby to risk a reckless chase.
One of the security contractors tried to escape down the service stairs. An officer stopped him at the landing, and a second officer secured the corridor until additional help arrived. As the men were identified, the investigators found that at least one carried credentials associated with the same outside contractor listed on Preston's invoice. The resemblance between his voice and the storage attacker was no longer the only connection worth examining.
Elias called Celeste from the corridor and reported the attempted interference. She instructed him to stay with the officers and let them document it. The encounter strengthened concerns about witness intimidation, but she refused to treat it as proof of a particular executive's criminal responsibility before records and communications were reviewed. In the lobby, she glanced at Preston, wondering whether he knew his security people had just made his legal position far more precarious.
A temporary technical alarm sounded near the private elevators as staff carried out a safety isolation requested during the disturbance upstairs. The lifts stopped accepting new passengers until building engineers confirmed the service corridor was secure. Guests near the elevators stepped aside in confusion, and attendants guided them toward the public stairwell and the functioning main lifts. Preston reacted as though the entire hotel were conspiring against him.
"What is happening to my building?" he demanded. Celeste answered evenly. "There is a safety incident near the records inspection area. Officers are handling it. Please stop interfering with the process." Preston looked from the corridor to the investors watching him and realized he could no longer contain either the disruption or the questions it raised.
Altha began walking toward the dedication wall, accompanied by Celeste and an officer. Her steps were slower than they had been on opening day decades earlier, but each one felt deliberate. The hallway narrowed, the music faded, and the sound of the gala disappeared behind a heavy service door. Ahead, the old photograph waited beneath a dim light, showing a younger woman with a ribbon and a building full of hope.
Preston followed them, ignoring his lawyer's repeated request that he remain in the lobby. "That plaque belongs to the hotel," he said. "It isn't a toy for you to open because you have an old key." Altha stopped before the photograph and touched the edge of its frame. "You kept my face on this wall while teaching your employees I was dead," she replied. "And now you're angry that I remember what the wall contains."