Hopsworth's Arc

Chapter 5 of 6

The inspector left without a word, but the phone rang before Hopsworth could dry his arms. A clerk at the records office had been digging. She had matched the shell company name on the brewery deed to his other holdings, and she wanted to talk before she filed her report. Hopsworth stared at the wet floor. Two choices waited for him now: pay her to forget, or burn the paper trail clean. He told her to meet him at the small wooden building he kept for quiet talks. She arrived within the hour and parked at the curb. She did not come inside. She sat on the worn bench out front, a tidy stack of invoices balanced on her knees, the deed copy clipped on top. She wanted him to see it. She wanted him to come to her. Hopsworth walked out and sat beside her. He had brought an envelope. She had brought a price. He set the envelope on the bench between them and waited. She lifted it, weighed it, and slid the stack of invoices into his hands. The deed copy was on top. The shell company name was circled in red ink. She stood, smoothed her coat, and walked to her car without a word. He carried the papers inside and locked the door. The steel desk was clean. He fed each page into the shredder, one by one, until the deed was confetti. The paper trail was gone, but he had just made a witness. She knew his name now, and she knew his price. He had bought silence, not safety.