I met their eyes, calm and unyielding. “I understand you’ve been through a lot. But sometimes, in the quest for truth, a little fuss is necessary.”

Mr. Davies, sensing the tension, wisely suggested we focus on the task at hand. As the footage began to play, the room filled with the soft whirring of the camera. It was silent except for the occasional chirp from the sparrows.

The footage from the night of the fire showed nothing at first, just shadows flickering against the house under the moonlight. But then, shapes emerged—two figures moving stealthily, carrying bags to a car parked a short distance away. Their faces weren’t clear, but their identities were unmistakable to anyone familiar with their gait and build.