CARLSON picked up the call, a smirk already forming on his lips.

"Queen," he greeted smoothly, his voice carrying a note of amusement.

"Carlson," she replied, her tone firm but edged with excitement. "I'm getting closer to the truth."

Carlson's fingers drummed against the armrest of his chair.

"Oh? But it took you long enough."

"Yes." Queen exhaled sharply, as if still processing her own discovery. "You were right. Orlanda is there. In his room."

Carlson's smirk widened.

"I told you," he drawled.

There was a pause. Queen seemed to be choosing her next words carefully.

"But Carlson... I need to ask you something."

His smirk faded slightly. He didn't...