Chapter56 Calling the Cops
For three days straight, nothing unusual happened.
Lisa reported daily that the two people under suspicion were acting completely normally—coming to work, leaving work—without a hint of anything suspicious.
Just when Lisa was starting to think Miranda might have been wrong, she got a message from Miranda on the fourth evening:
[Call an all-staff meeting. We need a new marketing plan finalized tonight.]
The meeting dragged on from six until eight o'clock. Everyone was exhausted, rushing out of the office building at closing time like they were escaping.
Lisa, as the manager, was the last to leave. She meticulously checked all the doors and windows, ensuring every lock was secured, especially Miranda's expensive office door. She even tugged on the handle to confirm it was locked tight from the outside.
Afterward, she turned off the main lights on the floor and took the elevator down. However, she didn't exit through the main door. Instead, she circled around to the back alley, swiped her card at the employee entrance, and slipped back inside, heading straight for the surveillance room on the basement level.
She pushed the door open. The dim room was lit only by the cold glow of a dozen screens.
Miranda was already sitting in front of the monitors, her expression calm and still. She wore only a thin black silk shirt, which made her face look even more refined and coolly beautiful.
"Take a seat," she instructed, lifting her chin to indicate the chair next to her.
Time ticked by slowly. The surveillance footage was completely silent. Lisa's heart was racing. She didn't know what Miranda was planning, so she could only sit beside her, staring intently at the screens.
After about fifteen minutes, one of the cameras focused on the main company entrance finally showed a flicker of movement.
A familiar, shadowy figure appeared furtively at the office door. He looked around to confirm he was alone, then swiped his card and walked in.
It was Peter from the project team!
Lisa gasped and quickly covered her mouth, her eyes wide with disbelief.
Peter took the elevator upstairs and went straight to his desk. He opened his computer and his fingers flew across the keyboard.
"It's him!" Lisa's voice was shaking. Anger mixed with disappointment made her eyes burn. "He was the one who skipped the celebration dinner last time. Miranda, I can't believe the traitor is him!"
Miranda just watched the screen in silence, her cool eyes betraying no emotion.
"We should call the police right now!" Lisa was trembling with fury, reaching for her phone. "Let's catch him red-handed! We can't let a disloyal traitor like that go free!"
"Wait a moment."
Miranda finally spoke, her voice too even to read.
Lisa paused her move to dial. Although she was puzzled, she trusted Miranda, so she suppressed her anger and turned her focus back to the screen.
A few more minutes passed, and the elevator doors opened again. This time, the cleaning lady stepped out.
Lisa leaned back in her chair and instinctively commented, "Why is the cleaning lady here? She's so dedicated. I specifically told her when I left that everyone worked late, and the office was empty, so she didn't need to come up. She must have seen Peter turn on the lights and came back up."
No sooner had she spoken than Miranda's eyes locked onto the middle-aged woman in the cleaner's uniform, carrying a bucket.
The cleaning lady was slowly mopping the floor, moving little by little toward Miranda's private office. Her movements were seamless, just like her daily routine.
But the instant her hand reached the doorknob of Miranda's office—
"Now," Miranda's voice was ice cold. "Call the police."
Lisa's heart leaped. She immediately pulled out her phone to dial.
But the very next second, her action froze.
On the screen, the door that she had personally locked and double-checked was effortlessly pushed open by the cleaning lady.
"The door's open?" Lisa's eyes widened in shock. "How is that possible? I definitely locked it when I left, and I checked! Did the lock break?"
"The one who leaked the proposal wasn't Peter," Miranda said softly. "It's her."
As she spoke, she used the mouse to zoom in on the moment the cleaning lady pushed the door open, freezing the frame.
"Look at her hand."
Lisa leaned closer to the screen. Her pupils suddenly constricted. In the magnified, high-definition image, a silver key was clearly visible clutched in the cleaning lady's calloused hand.
The key was identical to the one on Lisa's keyring.
A sudden, sharp realization hit Lisa. Her mind raced.
The key...
She remembered a time when she had accidentally dropped her keyring and had been desperately searching for it. In the end, it was this same cleaning lady who had "accidentally" found it in a corner and "kindly" returned it to her.
At the time, she had bought the woman a gift to say thank you, thinking the woman was so nice. Now, she realized it hadn't been an "accident" at all; it was premeditated.
The insider was the cleaning lady—the most inconspicuous and seemingly kind person in the office!
"Beep—beep—"
Lisa's fingers were shaking violently. She bit down hard, using all her strength to press the button and call the police.
After listening to Lisa state the case facts into the phone with a trembling but clear voice, Miranda slowly spoke.
"Let's go."
The elevator ascended slowly, the metal walls reflecting their cold faces.
Ding. The elevator door opened.
As the two women stepped out, they saw the cleaning lady, bucket in hand, emerging from Miranda's office, having just finished her "cleaning."
On the other side, Peter also seemed to have heard the noise. He hurriedly closed his computer screen, stood up, and looked at them with visible discomfort.
The cleaning lady caught sight of Miranda and Lisa returning. A flash of surprise flickered in her eyes, but she quickly masked it with a friendly, simple smile.
"Oh, Miranda, Lisa, you're back? I saw the lights on, thought someone was working late, and just came up to tidy up."
Peter quickly added, "I... I still had some work to finish, so I came back to put in some overtime." His expression was nervous, and a fine layer of sweat had broken out on his forehead. He looked completely guilty.
The cleaning lady put down her bucket, rubbed her hands, and said with a smile, "Well, if that's all, I'll be going now." She started to walk past Miranda.
But just as they were passing each other—
A slender yet firm hand suddenly grabbed her arm. The grip was strong enough to stop her dead.
Miranda's cool, clear voice rang out, word by word, in the quiet, empty office.
"Going?"
She tilted her head slightly, her dark eyes piercing straight into the cleaner's frightened gaze.
"Wouldn't you like to explain how you managed to get into my office to clean?"