"Her federal access credential registered a destruction event inside your facility. A secure container associated with that credential has also entered protected custody status. Confirm whether she is on the premises."
For several seconds Mercer heard nothing but the low current beneath the man's voice. His office overlooked the public lobby through a broad interior window. He stepped toward it while the caller remained on the line. Below him Ben was standing behind the front desk, unusually still. Rebecca Sloan stood near the interview corridor.
On the counter lay a black case with a tiny red indicator, and beside it were two pieces of what looked like a damaged identification card. Mercer felt an unpleasant pressure behind his ribs.
"She's here," he said.
"Is she able to speak freely?"
"I'll locate her."
"Do that now, Chief. This is a verified secure contact. We will discuss access and preservation after we speak with Agent Williams."
Mercer set down his budget folder without closing it. He had built a reputation for composure during difficult situations. He had been an officer for twenty-eight years, a lieutenant in narcotics, a captain in patrol, and then chief in a city that liked to believe difficult things happened somewhere else. His career had taught him that public embarrassment could become an institutional threat faster than most crimes became investigations. What he had just seen through the window looked less like an embarrassment than the beginning of one.
He walked down the stairs carrying the handset, a corded secure extension fitted with a short wireless relay. Ben saw him first. Rebecca turned as Mercer approached, but she did not step aside. Her expression suggested that she expected her decision to be defended.
"Nobody touches the case or the credential," Mercer said.
"I've secured them already," Rebecca answered.
"Tell me exactly what happened. Start with the moment she entered the building."
Rebecca gave an orderly account, but it was an account in which each action had been motivated by a concern she described as reasonable. The visitor had refused to name an agency. The visitor had carried a locked case. The visitor had requested privileged access to sensitive records without a conventional appointment. The initial scanner had produced a federal authorization, but Rebecca had suspected the possibility of an impersonation attempt. She had detained the visitor while confirming the situation.
Ben listened without interrupting until Mercer asked one question. "Did the credential verify?"
"Yes," Rebecca said, "but that wasn't my only concern."
"It verified twice," Ben added.
Mercer turned to him. "Twice?"
"The front desk system and the internal access console. Both independently returned valid federal access. The internal result is still on my screen."
Mercer looked at the green message, then at Rebecca. "Did you call the secure validation line?"
"No. I wasn't prepared to dial a number supplied by somebody whose identification might be counterfeit."
"The number came from our system," Ben said quietly.
Rebecca gave him a sharp look. "You have made your point."
Mercer inspected the fragments of the credential. The tear passed through its central seal and part of the word authority. "Did she threaten anyone?" he asked.