Chapter 8 - DALE’S LAST STORYDale eventually tried to reinvent himself as a scapegoat.
He claimed corporate pressure forced him.
Some truth existed there.
Margins.
Bonuses.
Aggressive purchasing targets.
But pressure did not instruct him to threaten a fifteen-year-old.
It did not make him forge container tare.
It did not order him to steal municipal copper.
He chose methods.
Others enabled them.
Responsibility remained specific.
During proceedings, Dale's attorney asked Leo whether he disliked Dale before the pay incident.
Leo answered:
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“He yelled.”
“So you had personal resentment.”
“I guess.”
“Could that affect your memory?”
Leo thought.
“Maybe.”
The attorney seemed pleased.
Then Leo continued.
“But the scale computer remembers too.”
Silence.
Raw data.
Protected maintenance file.
Truck camera.
Batch codes.
Leo's testimony mattered.
It wasn't alone.
Good investigations did not require a child's memory to carry everything.
Carla squeezed his hand afterward.
“Good?”
“Good.”
He was relieved.
Dale once controlled Leo’s pay because all information sat at Dale's desk.
Now evidence existed in independent systems.
Exactly the reform Victor wanted company-wide.
Dale’s final defense collapsed under financial records.
He had received private bonuses through shell suppliers.
Customs buyers sent specifications inconsistent with official invoices.
He was not merely following targets.
He was profiting personally.
When the verdicts and administrative consequences came, Leo did not attend every hearing.
He had algebra.
Carla insisted life continue.
“Fraud does not get your whole sophomore year.”
Leo complained algebra might be worse.
May you like
She laughed.
That normality mattered.
