What Leo did not know.
Could not know. Had no reason to suspect, had been too careful and too confident and too practiced in not looking to have noticed the accumulation of small signals that had been arranging themselves, for the last several months, into a pattern.
Three floors below Leo's office, in a building across the city that shared no obvious connection to Piers Corporation or Leo's name or anything that would have caused him concern had he walked past it.
The police were not making a noise about this.
They never did, at this stage. This stage was the quiet stage. The stage of watching and recording and building the kind of case that did not get dismissed on technicalities because it had been assembled with patience and precision rather than urgency.
The kind of case that took time to build because the thing being documented was complex, layered, and was constructed by someone intelligent enough to make it look like something else from most angles.
