Chapter 10 - THE MAN WHO WAS BURNED
His name was Owen Keating, and he had spent three weeks recovering from chemical injuries to his lungs.
We met at a public library with Maya present.
Owen was fifty-two, broad-shouldered, and still short of breath after climbing the library stairs.
"I never wanted a lawsuit," he said.
"I just wanted them to fix the equipment."
He explained that the compressor had been leaking for days.
His supervisor reported it twice.
A service ticket showed a technician had inspected the system and cleared it for operation.
"The technician was you," he said, not accusing me but searching my face.
"I wasn't there."
I showed him the funeral program.
He read the date and shut his eyes.
"I knew something was wrong."
"What happened?"
"The repair sticker was new, but the bolts were covered in old grime. Nobody had opened the housing."
He reached into his jacket and took out a folded maintenance log.
The night before the leak, someone had ordered production staff to bypass the shutdown alarm.
The instruction was written in blue ink and signed with Graham Voss's initials.
Maya placed the paper in an evidence sleeve.
"Where did you get this?"
"I copied it before they cleaned out the control room."
"Why come forward now?"
Owen looked at me.
"Because I saw your face on a post saying you were the reckless technician responsible."
He swallowed hard.
"My daughter asked me why I hadn't told her the truth."
He pressed a hand against his chest and waited for the coughing to pass.
"They told me I'd lose my health coverage if I blamed the company."
The room became very quiet.
I wanted to promise him justice.
Maya's expression reminded me not to make promises I couldn't keep.
"Will you speak to investigators?" she asked.
"Yes."
After the meeting, Daniel told me an outside agency had agreed to review the evidence and determine whether the financial and safety allegations warranted action.
"Who?" I asked.
"I can't share every detail until the referral is accepted."
"Do you think Curtis knows?"
"I think he knows he's being questioned."
That evening, Elaine from HR called me.
Her voice was stripped of its usual practiced friendliness.
"Caleb, I need to correct something."
"Talk to my attorney."
"I can't do that yet."
"Why?"
"Because Curtis made me sign documents too."
I waited.
She exhaled shakily.
May you like
"And the original records are scheduled to be destroyed tomorrow morning."
