It’s What You Can Prove

Olivia’s heels clacked down the otherwise silent marble corridor.  Her grandmother founded the Toronto Museum of Historical Documents in the early 21st century, when politicians still tried to keep their secrets.

As the senior conservator, Olivia handled photos and clandestine contracts from all over the world.  Horrifying underground prisons in the French countryside, embarrassing love letters between Rwandan elected officials, incriminating records of corruption in San Diego.  Every IP address trace, wire-tap record, shredded document, GPS flag, and reconstituted hard drive went through her office.  Other museums lauded humankind’s achievements, TMHD took a different approach.

Most of the guilty individuals had died of natural, or unnatural causes years ago.  But the Acquisitions Department received a phone call from an interested third party every so often.  A request to misplace one of their exhibits.

There’s so much illicit activity in the world, Olivia knew they wouldn’t miss the contents of an unregistered archive drawer.

She checked her watch and opened the service entrance.  Three men walked in as if they had an appointment, which of course, they did.

“The five hundred is in your account,” the short man had a receipt as proof.

“In that case, right this way gentlemen.”


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