The next evening, Michael received a call from one of the few people he still trusted enough to keep close to the investigation.
He was sitting inside the police station, with a folder resting on the small table in front of him. The room was quiet except for the occasional footsteps in the corridor outside.
"We need to speak about Dayo," one of his investigators.
Michael looked down at the folder already excepting what he wants to say. "What about him?"
"The releases have continued. You were right about the pattern. Someone is choosing what to release and when."
"I know."
"There is another problem."
Michael waited.
"We still haven't found a way to stop it."
