The two men looked at each other. The second officer actually laughed out loud.
“Oh, this should be good,” he said. “What, gonna slip us a bribe? Think that’s gonna save you?”
“Just look,” Victoria said simply.
The tall one hesitated for half a second — some instinct in him, maybe, some flicker of doubt he wouldn’t have admitted to — then reached into her pocket and pulled out a small leather case.
He opened it, more out of impatience than interest, already halfway through rolling his eyes.
And then he stopped moving entirely.
For a long moment he just stood there, staring down at what was in his hand. His eyes went from the photograph to the name to the seal stamped across the top of the identification card, and something in his face began, very slowly, to drain of color.
He read it again. And again, as if the words might rearrange themselves into something less terrible the third time through.
