My Mother Had Me Handcuffed at Work Over My Own Car Until the Evidence She Missed Changed Everything

at my workstation on the second floor, wearing cotton gloves, working on a water-damaged ledger from 1893. The paper was fragile enough that I worked with a humidifier running and a surgical light positioned at a precise angle. Edwin Marsh was in the adjacent room. Three colleagues were at their own stations.

I heard the elevator open. I heard the front continue reading …