"And?"
Camille looked at him.
"Some employees did well."
She turned toward the sales associates.
"But the system failed."
Martin nodded.
"I understand."
"No," Camille said gently. "I don't think you do."
She pointed toward the front doors.
"An expensive customer called."
She pointed toward the police officer's former position.
"The police came."
Then she pointed toward herself.
"And nobody asked the simplest question."
"What question?"
Camille answered:
"Where is the evidence?"
Her name was Tasha Green.
She was twenty-four.
She had worked at Bellmont & Rowe for eight months.
During the incident, she had stood near the handbag department and watched everything.
Camille noticed her.
"You."
Tasha looked startled.
"Me?"
"Come here."
Tasha approached.
"What did you see?"
Tasha glanced at Martin.
Camille noticed.
"You don't need permission to answer."
Tasha swallowed.
"I saw Mrs. Whitmore watching you."
"How long?"
"Maybe fifteen minutes."
"Did you think I was stealing?"
"No."
"Why not?"
"Because you were comparing fabrics."
Camille nodded.
"Did you tell anyone?"
Tasha hesitated.
"I told Mr. Hayes."
Martin looked surprised.
"You did?"
"Yes."
Camille turned toward Martin.
"What did she say?"
Martin couldn't remember.
Tasha answered.
"I said you looked like you were shopping."
Camille smiled.
"Thank you."
Tasha lowered her eyes.
"I didn't know you were the owner."
"That's the point."
Tasha looked up.
Camille continued.
"You shouldn't need to know who I am."
Tasha nodded.
Camille asked:
"Did you ever feel pressured to treat certain customers differently?"
Tasha looked around.
Nobody spoke.
Finally she answered.
"Yes."
Martin closed his eyes.
"How?"