On the morning of day 1196, the archive’s copying room had two locks, and both appeared to have been opened with working keys. That was the captain’s first reading, not proof of who had held them.
Iven knew this because the station captain showed him the doors before anyone touched them. The outer lock had no scratches around its plate. The inner lock had been turned cleanly; its key remained on the hook in the duty office, where the night clerk had placed it before supper. The room beyond held four copying desks, a drying rack and a cabinet of ink and paper.
One desk had been disturbed. A sheet lay on the floor, face down. The drawer beneath the desk stood open, and a narrow wooden box that normally held reference seals was missing.
“Who found it?” Tavin asked.
“The morning clerk,” the captain said. “She opened the outer door and found the inner door already unlocked.”
“Who has keys?”
“Three people for the outer door. Two for the inner. The night clerk has both while on duty.”
“Was the night clerk here all night?”
