Chapter 6: A: The Archivist’s Key

👉 Previous Decision: Chloe explained Marcus’s personal leverage over Examiner Hobbs.

Chloe reached into the folder on her lap and pulled out a small, rectangular object. It was a standard-issue security keycard, black with a metallic stripe.

“What is this?” I asked, my fingers tracing the smooth plastic.

“It’s for a storage unit in Burbank,” Chloe explained, her voice dropping to a near whisper. “Unit 34B at Burbank Self-Storage. Marcus keeps some of his older archival materials there. Stuff he thinks is long forgotten.”

She looked at me, her eyes holding a desperate urgency. “Beatrice Delacroix’s original studio contracts from 1998 are in there. When Marcus first started trying to acquire Beatrice’s film catalog years ago, he sent me to retrieve all her past agreements. I cataloged everything, including those old ones.”

“Why would that be important now?” I asked, my brow furrowed.

“Marcus has been waving around some more recent development agreements, claiming he has first rights, right?” she said. I nodded. “Those are mostly for new projects based on Beatrice’s IP. But the original rights, the ones he claims give him control over everything, those date back further. To a complex option deal from ’98.”

Chloe leaned closer. “I remember a specific clause in that 1998 contract. A reversion clause. It stated that if certain development options weren’t exercised, or if a project wasn’t put into production within a specific timeframe – twenty years, I think – then all rights automatically reverted back to Beatrice.”

My mind reeled. Twenty years. That was exactly what had passed.

“If that clause exists, and it expired,” I murmured, “then all of Marcus’s claims would be baseless.”

“Exactly,” Chloe confirmed, relief washing over her face. “His entire supposed claim to Beatrice’s estate, the foundation of his legal threats, would be built on sand.”

“Why hasn’t he mentioned it?” I asked, thinking aloud.

“Because he either forgot about it, or he’s deliberately trying to suppress it,” Chloe said, shaking her head. “It’s a dusty old contract, probably buried in a box. But I logged it. I remember it clearly. It could be the key.”

She handed me the keycard. “You need to go there. Find those documents. I’ve even put a sticky note on the box they’re in. Box 7, ‘DELACROIX – LEGAL 1998-2002’.”

I looked at the keycard in my hand. This was real. This was actionable. But it also felt incredibly risky.

“What about you, Chloe?” I asked. “If Marcus finds out you helped me…”

She flinched. “I know the risks. I’ve already copied some of my own notes, signed a statement outlining what I know about Hobbs, just in case. But please, Arthur, you have to be careful. Get those contracts. They’re your only way out of this.”

I considered her words, the gravity of the situation pressing down on me. I could either follow her lead and retrieve the critical evidence, or confront Marcus with what I knew about Hobbs and Chloe’s testimony, hoping to catch him off guard.