Ollie showed him the small kitchen first. It contained a table for three, a refrigerator, a coffeemaker, an electric kettle, and several cupboards. Bills and business cards were pinned to the refrigerator door beside a short note demanding that samples not be stored next to food.

Evelyn decided not to ask what incident had inspired it.

"We usually eat in here," Ollie explained. "Sometimes we order in. There's a diner on the opposite corner. If you're going, get there before one. After that, there aren't any free tables."

He opened one of the cupboards. Inside sat an enormous jar of coffee, sugar, and a box of cheap tea bags. Evelyn regarded the last item with open doubt. Tomorrow, he would bring his own tea.

From the kitchen, Ollie led him farther down the corridor and stopped briefly beside a staircase descending below the ground floor.

"Artifact storage, the examination room, and the old archive are in the basement," he explained. "Don't go down there without the boss yet."

Evelyn looked at the heavy door with an electronic lock.

"Even if it's open?"

"Especially if it's open."

After that, they went up to the second floor by a broad wooden staircase whose varnish had begun to crack with age.

The analysis room, equipment room, and active-case archive were located there.

On the way, Evelyn noticed another old door with a tarnished brass plaque. Unlike the others, it had no number and no explanatory label. Ollie passed it without even turning his head, and Evelyn decided not to ask unnecessary questions on his first day.

The archive occupied almost the entire far end of the floor. Tall cabinets lined the walls. Shelves were crowded with folders, boxes, plastic media containers, and several stacks of documents that had not even been granted that degree of organization.

Some cases were labeled with client surnames, others with numbers. A few bore only dates or brief descriptions of incidents, some of them remarkably intriguing.

Evelyn looked slowly around the room.

"How do you find anything?"

"Boss remembers where it is."

"And when he isn't here?"

"We wait until he gets back. Or call him."

Evelyn looked at Ollie. He had said it without irony.

"You don't have a shared catalog?"

"There's a spreadsheet. It hasn't been updated in a while."

"How long is a while?"

"Don't know."

Evelyn liked that answer even less than the previous one.

Ollie showed him an empty desk, gave him the key to two cabinets containing current materials, and explained which folders he was allowed to use. Old cases and sealed boxes were to remain untouched for now.

"Start by familiarizing yourself with the reports and registries," he said. "Nothing complicated is required of you today."

"Understood."

Ollie watched him for a moment as though he suspected something dangerous in that answer, but chose not to comment. He went back to reception while Evelyn removed his jacket, hung it neatly over the back of the chair, and opened the first folder.

Ten minutes later, one thing was clear: the cases themselves were handled well. Reports were concise and precise, evidence was logged carefully, and conclusions were supported by documentation.

The problem began whenever one piece of material had to be connected to another. There was no unified index. The same artifact might appear under a commercial, technical, or colloquial name. Client surnames changed. Companies closed and reopened under new names. Some suspended cases were still marked active, and the paper ledger did not always agree with the electronic spreadsheet.

The work had been done professionally. No one had simply bothered to make the results easy to find.

Evelyn turned on the computer. At first, he intended only to make a list of issues. Then he created a new registry. To the case number he added client surname, date of intake, incident type, artifact category, participant lineage, current status, and evidence location.

Then Evelyn found several duplicate numbers. After that came three cases connected to one manufacturer that had changed its name twice.

He had to open another spreadsheet.

By noon, neat stacks had formed across the desk. Active materials had separated from suspended ones, folders with missing documents had temporary tabs, and the electronic catalog contained its first cross-references.

The work absorbed Evelyn almost immediately.

Unlike the pointless shifting of papers in the family fund, every line here represented a real incident. A missing person. A dangerous object. A false insurance claim. A discrepancy that might lead to the next clue. A properly built system could save hours. Sometimes it could save a life.

Around one, Ollie appeared in the doorway.

"You eating?"

Evelyn did not look away from the screen.

"In a few minutes."

"I'm going to the diner."

"All right."

"Want me to bring you something?"

Evelyn finally looked up.

"A sandwich. Anything without mustard. Thanks."

Ollie nodded and left.

A paper bag appeared beside Evelyn's elbow later. He entirely missed the moment Ollie returned.