“There is no private resolution, Arthur,” I said. “The federal government has my original drive.”

Arthur’s gaze drifted to the black drive in Vance’s hand.

For the first time since I had known him, I saw a flicker of fear in his eyes.

“That drive was not in your apartment,” he said, his voice dropping to a low growl. “We searched it.”

“You searched my current apartment,” I said. “You forgot about the studio.”

Arthur looked at his wife, then back at me.

“You think you have won, don’t you?” he said. “The university will never let you back. Your reputation is ruined.”

“We will see about that, Mr. Hayes,” Vance said. “Right now, you need to come with us.”

An agent stepped forward and placed a pair of silver handcuffs around Arthur’s wrists.

The metal clicked shut with a sharp, final sound.

Barbara gasped, covering her mouth with both hands.

“Arthur!” she cried.

“Be quiet, Barbara,” Arthur said, his voice flat. “Do not say another word until the lawyers arrive.”

They led him toward the elevators.