Page 39 of Lorenzo

The camera footage says Alessio left at 1:30.

Something else may say differently.

I crouch near the console.

The wall behind it is lightly scuffed, as though the furniture was moved and pushed back. It could have happened during the police search. It could have happened before.

I look underneath.

Nothing except dust and the tablet’s disconnected cord.

In the bedroom, one drawer remains half open. Empty hangers are pushed to one side of the closet. The bathroom counter has been cleared except for two wrapped hotel glasses.

The police took what they thought mattered.

That does not mean they understood what mattered.

I return to the sitting room and look toward the ceiling.

A camera would be too much to hope for, and the Halston would never admit to recording inside guest rooms even if it did.

But the lock has an access history.

The tablet may have activity logs.

The lights and curtains may have been adjusted after Alessio left.

Someone came into this room after him.

The question is whether they used the door. Or…

I turn toward the balcony.

The glass reflects part of the room behind me.

For a second, something near the lower edge catches my attention.

I move closer.

A faint smear marks the outside of the glass near the handle, lower than anyone would naturally place a hand while opening the door.

I crouch.

The mark is narrow, almost vertical, and partially wiped away.

It may be nothing.

I photograph it anyway.

Then I notice the curtain.

One side hangs properly. The other has been pulled slightly off its track near the top, leaving the fabric gathered unevenly.

I step back and follow the line of it.

Someone could have grabbed it.

Or pushed through it in a hurry.