PART 6:

And Leonard’s patterns had small disruptions, like someone had edited a photograph and smoothed over the seams just a little too perfectly. She made notes, highlighted timestamps, cross-referenced them with other system events. By the time the sky started turning gray, she had a list of 17 instances where Leonard’s access logs had been altered after the fact.

Someone had gone back and cleaned up their tracks. But they’d missed pieces. Small fragments of the original data still existed in backup logs, in cached files, in redundant systems that most people forgot existed. Scarlett sent everything to Sarah Chen with a single line. Keep digging. Then she showered, dressed, and went back to the office to face whatever was waiting for her there.

The 47th floor was already buzzing when she arrived at 7:30. People moved between cubicles with the nervous energy of employees who knew something was wrong, but didn’t know what. Conversation stopped when she walked past. Eyes followed her to her office. Her assistant was waiting with coffee and a worried expression.

Ms. Vaughn, Mr. Holbrook called three times already this morning. He wants to speak with you urgently. Tell him I’m in meetings all day. He said it can’t wait. Scarlett took the coffee and closed her office door. She had maybe 2 hours before Richard Holbrook showed up in person, demanding to know why she was still investigating Mason Reed instead of moving forward with prosecution.

2 hours to find something solid enough that even the board couldn’t ignore it. Her phone rang. Sarah Chen. “Tell me you found something.” Scarlett said. “I found a lot of things. None of them good.” Sarah’s voice was tight. “Leonard Graves has been accessing confidential financial data for the past 8 months.

Trade reports, merger discussions, client contract details. Information he had legitimate access to, but the pattern of what he was viewing doesn’t match his actual job responsibilities.” “What pattern?” “He was specifically targeting information about upcoming product launches and strategic partnerships. Then, 3 to 5 days after accessing that data, there are unusual trading activities in related stocks.

Not in his name. The trades are coming from offshore accounts. But the timing is too consistent to be coincidence. Scarlett felt her chest tighten. Insider trading, that’s what it looks like. And there’s more. The data breach that we blamed on Mason Reed, the files that were stolen included detailed financial projections for next quarter.

If someone had that information before it went public, they could make millions in the market. Scarlett sat down hard. Leonard’s been using company intelligence for personal profit. Not just personal profit, I tracked some of those offshore accounts. They’re connected to shell corporations that eventually trace back to investment funds.

One of those funds is partially owned by Thomas Whitmore’s family firm. The name hit Scarlett like cold water. Thomas Whitmore, board member, the same man who’d pushed hardest for Mason Reed’s immediate prosecution. Are you telling me Leonard and Thomas are working together? I’m telling you the money flows between entities they both have connections to.

Whether they’re actively collaborating or Leonard is just feeding information to someone who knows how to profit from it, I can’t prove that yet. But, the financial connections exist. Scarlett stood up and walked to her windows. Manhattan was waking up below, millions of people starting their day with no idea that the ground beneath them might be crumbling.

She thought about Mason Reed in his small apartment, probably making breakfast for his daughter right now, trying to explain why they couldn’t go outside without reporters shouting questions. Can you prove Leonard altered the audit logs? she asked. Working on it, but Scarlett, if Leonard knows we’re investigating him, he’ll destroy evidence. These guys are sophisticated.

They’ve been covering their tracks for months. Then we don’t let him know. Scarlett checked her watch. How long until you can build a case solid enough to bring to federal investigators? Days. Maybe a week if we’re lucky. We don’t have a week. The board wants Mason prosecuted by Monday. Sarah was quiet for a moment.

Then what do you want to do? Scarlet looked at her reflection in the glass. A woman in an expensive suit standing in an expensive office about to make a decision that would either save her company or destroy everything she’d built. “Keep gathering evidence.” she said, “and don’t tell anyone what you’re doing. Not IT, not legal, not anyone.

Just you and me.” “Scarlet, if this goes wrong” “It won’t.” “You don’t know that.” “No.” Scarlet admitted. “I don’t.” “But I’m done making decisions based on what’s convenient instead of what’s true.” She hung up and stared out at the city. Somewhere in one of those buildings, Leonard Graves was probably sitting in his own office thinking he’d gotten away with it.

Thinking he’d successfully framed a low-level employee and redirected all suspicion away from himself. He’d underestimated her. They all had. Her office door opened without a knock. Richard Holbrook walked in followed by Thomas Whitmore and Patricia Chen. The three of them arranged themselves in front of her desk like judges arriving for sentencing.

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