Chapter 10

The night has gone from dusky to dark when I finally crack open the file on Hart Link Incorporated. Because I slept in so late, I’m not tired, although my stomach is grumbling. I had melted cheese on crackers for my work-through-dinner. Not exactly the most satisfying. It almost made me miss the chalky diet bars that Grant gave me yesterday. Which—I’m now realizing—were probably expired since they’d been sitting in a cupboard for nearly a year.

The first page in the Hart file is a little about the corporation headquarters. Fifteen years ago, Zagreus Hart pretty much appeared from nowhere and was suddenly at the forefront of all technology across countless domains—telecommunications, transportation, space travel, satellites, green energy, you name it, he was crushing it. Although, never seen.

His headquarters is on a tiny island just off the coast. He bought it for a pittance since it’s only accessible by ferry and it mainly consists of rocky cliffs. He had crews transform the rocky surfaces to house his offices inside of the rocks. In the process, he turned an innocuous, overlooked island into an engineering marvel that oddly resembles a skull.

Since the development and building applications and permits are public record, I can easily see his early environmental footprint. In every single instance, he went above and beyond the minimum requirements. If he’s a polluter, he started later in the game.

Still, the records are interesting. On a whim, I also made a list of every construction company and contractor he worked with. The list is extensive, to say the least. It kind of seems like he looked over the white pages like it was a delicious dessert menu and said he’d have the lot.

Despite the fact that he used hundreds of different contractors and crews, not a single one of them appears to have any gripes. The skeptic lawyer part of me believes that at least one of them would have tried something to get more money out of him. After all, how often do you get a chance to fleece one of the top five richest billionaires in the world? But, there isn’t a single frivolous lawsuit to be found. In fact, it looks like Hart Link Incorporated reviewed most of them online—five stars abound.

Whoever works in their Public Relations department must have a sense of humour. It’s a little jarring to see the world premier company for fibre optics give a review next to one from some guy named Al who’s writing about toilet regurgitation.

Full disclosure: I’m jaded enough to believe that all truly successful companies skirt environmental laws whenever possible. It’s how they make money.

I always go in for interviews with companies I’m investigating and shake hands with some dude with literal granola in his pocket in a room with a cartoon shrub on the wall telling their employees to recycle. Then, when they realize I have some dirt on them, I’m moved into a second room where some guy named Chad tries to break my hand with his handshake as we discuss restitution at his old-growth desk on a baby seal skin rug.

There might be some exaggeration with the last part.

Truthfully, they’re not always named Chad.

Zagreus Hart, though, seems squeaky clean. Between hitting his emissions targets, using renewable energy for 95 percent of the company’s power, and monthly staff shoreline clean-up initiatives (oh god, don’t tell Beth), his company actually appears to be walking the walk.

Which just means I have to dig deeper.

No one is that good.

I might not know why it’s inappropriate to ask about sperm count on a first date, but I do know that companies pollute. It’s my job to find out how.

I skim the ‘evidence’, even though I’ve already read it a hundred times. It’s a single document from a particularly tenacious Department of Fisheries and Oceans employee. This DFO worker flagged Hart Link because of inconsistencies in her own findings.

That alone is reason enough for me to take this seriously. Usually, when people find errors in their own work, they cover them up. For someone to file a report that could ultimately be blamed on their own incompetence, means that they’re certain of their data.

And this data is something else.

Lauren Musgrave, long-time employee of the DFO, reported repeated inconsistencies with the fish count in the vicinity of the island. A random sample of the fish trackers came back several times as near-zero, and several times with almost double the number of expected fish. Repeatedly.

Sadly, I’ve seen this before. It likely means that the company is emitting waste that’s killing the fish or making it otherwise uninhabitable. So, to cover their tracks, they’re trying to fudge the data, but have made gross errors in doing so.

Whatever Hart is trying to cover up must be something else. Something big.

I jot down some notes about possible avenues to explore. As a non-government firm, we don’t get caught up as easily in the red tape that these companies can throw at us. Still, this needs to be approached with care.

Idly, I flip through the remaining pages, hoping for inspiration to strike. The rest of the file is mainly newspaper articles about the companies and pictures of their employees or initiatives. A lot from our firm’s private investigator, Marigold.

Honestly, I’m not expecting much. I’ve been through this file again and again. I’ve read about their ‘Solar Panels for Success’ program and their ScatterTech satellite patent. I’ve seen the pictures of different known employees visiting high school science fairs and tech conferences.

Except, that was days ago. A lot can happen in a day.

For example, a picture that was utterly forgettable a day ago, now sets my heart racing. It’s a simple photo that was taken just a week ago by our P.I. that catches my eye and breaks my heart.

It’s of the employee terminal on the mainland. Since the headquarters is located on an island, there’s a ferry that brings them across. It’s owned by Hart Link Incorporated and only employees use it. There’s absolutely no reason for someone who isn’t an employee to be there—unless they’re a spy, like our girl, Marigold.

There’s one picture of the employee ferry while it’s pulling into the dock that makes me gasp. Initially, it’s the tall man who catches my eye. He stands out at the front of the ferry, like some dark god surveying the sea. With a better look at his face, I can see there’s a scar that runs from his lip to his eye. The tall, scarred man. He’s so statuesque with his menace that his presence dominates my attention.

At least until a pair of the most gorgeous, warm chocolate find my own. Even though his hair is a wind-swept tangle of curls instead of its gelled-back perfection, I would recognize him anywhere. Even here, leaning casually against the rail of the ferry a couple feet behind the tall, scarred man.

It’s Grant.

Grant is on the employee ferry.