Page 23 of Mr. and Mrs. Novak

"And the connections with Nexora Trade?"

"I’ve established direct links between the arms trafficking network and Nexora Trade’s logistics infrastructure. But to trace it back to the decision-makers, I’ll need access to the sealed files. There are elements I need to verify."

"You know the procedure."

An hour later, my request for access to the sealed files, fully documented and signed, is on the chief’s desk. He gives me an annoyed look but signs the form without argument.

"Standard processing times apply," he reminds me.

I nod. The request must first be validated by the Regional Directorate of Customs before being forwarded to the judicial sealing department. In a standard case, it takes at least a week. But this is a war weapons seizure. The sensitivity of the case and the urgency of the investigation might speed up the process.

The break room is nearly empty at this hour, which suits me perfectly. I slide into the chair across from Echo. He watches me, one eyebrow slightly raised, waiting for me to speak.

"I need your expertise," I say, placing my coffee cup in front of me.

He takes a sip of his own, a glint of amusement in his eyes. "I’m listening."

I wet my lips, searching for the right way to broach the subject. "How do you get information over dinner without making it feel like an interrogation?"

He sets his cup down and studies me for a moment, gauging the weight of my question. "Be more specific."

"I need to figure out what’s going on between my husband and Stanford."

Echo’s eyes narrow slightly, intrigued. "Natasha’s husband?"

He doesn’t add "your husband’s mistress," and I’m grateful for it. I nod. He leans back in his chair, thoughtful.

"Have you tried already?"

"Yes. But I had to stop quickly to avoid raising his suspicions," I admit, frustrated.

He nods approvingly. "Who will be at the dinner?"

"Ruslan, his two business partners, and their current girlfriends."

" Perfect. Use the women. They’re new and want to make a good impression, be the center of attention. Make sure they’re the ones asking the questions for you. Keep your own interventions minimal. Don’t lead the conversation—steer it. Speak as if you’re just thinking out loud: ‘I heard something about… Do you think it’s true?’ If it’s false, he’ll want to correct it. If he corrects you, he gives you information. Pull the thread."

I smile, impressed. "Group manipulation, approval bias exploitation, subtle redirection… You’re diabolical."

Echo smirks. "I’m efficient."

"Thanks for the tip, Sherlock."

"Always a pleasure, Watson."

At 4:30 PM, my secure phone vibrates.

Access granted for tomorrow morning, 9 AM, under the supervision of a judicial customs officer.

That’s unusually fast. I mentally note this anomaly—either the case is already on the radar of high-level authorities, or someone is trying to make my investigation easier.

***

That evening, I inform Ruslan that I have to visit a client early the next morning. A supposed critical security breach on their production servers requires my on-site presence. The kind of emergency that can't wait in our line of work.

"I might be gone all day," I add, avoiding his inquisitive gaze.

He nods without saying a word.