I brought the authorised interpreter, the coat and the caretaker's slip to Pell Alterations. She was a municipal appliance assessor carrying Form 8, two cups and tea. She asked whether the building took sugar.
The caretaker had never asked. The cutting-table lights went out. The assessor marked NO, set an unsweetened cup beside the wall socket and waited. The kettle switched itself on.
She tested the socket, lights and sewing machine. When all answered the same control question, Form 8 authorised her to interpret the building.
She asked whether Edda Pell was inside. One light: no. Whether Edda had left records: two lights: yes. The machine advanced a blank receipt and turned its wheel towards the bereavement sleeve.
Asked where the records were kept, the machine engaged its motor. Its heavy base travelled six inches across the table and stopped against the coat. The visitor badge acquired a neat oil mark.
I opened Reeve's schedule. The lights ignored it. I showed the change-of-address copy and locker inventory. They remained dark. When I held up the coat, every working lamp in room 4B came on once.
The machine printed ARCHIVE: GARMENT 1 and underlined the coat's claim number. The assessor attached Form 8 to the sleeve and ended the interview before the tea became evidence. Tomorrow I must bring Reeve's evidence tools and have the workshop show what Edda stored in the coat.
An official Sanctuary Serial