I inspected the coat's left cuff on Reeve's desk. The repair named in all three contributor records consisted of three black stitches, set beneath the fold where ordinary wear would not show them.
Reeve opened the workers' movement files. Each ended at the same minute on the same morning. The records claimed transfers to Hunter Corps Stores, Public Reassurance and Posthumous Property Resolution.
His terminal accepted each transfer separately. When he displayed them together, it marked the departments INCOMPATIBLE and suggested that he close two windows. Reeve printed the contradiction instead.
I matched each worker number to a stitch. The digits had been worked into the spacing: short, long, short. The repair had not joined torn cloth. It had kept the numbers attached to something that could still be found.
The Corps ties black thread around possessions of Hunters who do not return. I stopped Reeve when he reached for office scissors and used the blunt point of my left forefinger to lift the first two stitches without cutting them.
The third stitch resisted. Beneath it was a strip of paper folded narrower than the seam allowance. Reeve extracted it with property tweezers and placed it in an evidence envelope.
The heading identifies it as a change-of-address slip bearing all three worker numbers. Tomorrow I must trace its filing history and destination without destroying the stitch that concealed it.
An official Sanctuary Serial