Boston Mother Cancels Twenty Two Million Dollar Wedding Gift After Morning Betrayal
“Three years,” I said. “But we only need the data from last night, between midnight and five in the morning.”
He opened his leather case, revealing a silver laptop and several blue cables. “The security system in this townhouse is a commercial-grade Honeywell panel, correct?”
“Yes,” I said. “It requires a physical key card to bypass the alarm and unlock the doors.”
“If someone used a valid card, the panel registered the unique chip number,” Mr. Vance said. “We will find out exactly whose card opened the back door.”
“I also want you to examine the physical logbook kept by the neighborhood patrol guard at the Mount Vernon Street gate,” I said.
Avery looked up from his folders. “The private patrol?”
“Yes,” I said. “They write down the license plates of every vehicle entering the hill after midnight.”
Mr. Vance nodded, writing a note on a small pad. “I will contact the neighborhood association security office and request the logbook records for last night.”
We moved to the kitchen at eight, where the main security terminal was located in the small pantry. The room was dark, save for the single green light on the wall panel.
