She didn’t expect to find anything personal during her nightly bank invasions, but one surprised her. She discovered the actual deed to her family's farm amid some foreclosure papers. She held the crinkled document in her warm hands. Before this moment, her covert actions in the bank felt like a game, but this stripped the fun from the mischief. This discovery was all too real. She had possession of the deed at that moment and wanted to keep it.
She said. “I can’t believe I'm holding this.”
She thought she put a stoic's distance between her feelings and her acts of burglary, but she was distracted from her true task. She wanted to cancel the entire operation, take the deed and go home, but she couldn't let her wants overpower her needs in that matter. She knew she had to acquire it by legitimate means or she risked losing the farm forever. If she didn’t figure out a way to stop Carson, he would continue to spread misery to countless others. At least until he was dead. She tried to ignore the artifact from her past and concentrate on the investigation but couldn’t.
She leafed through the rest of the documents in the folder about her home. She was greeted by her father’s signature. The familial discovery penetrated her disguise and struck Betty's heart. His handwriting was bold and direct, nothing fancy, just like the man she remembered. Her chin quivered.
She was supposed to be Witness X, not Betty that night. It was too late. Her cover was blown. She felt exposed. She wanted to get out of there, but had to maintain her composure for just a few minutes more. She struggled to hear her internal, exit checklist over her screaming heart. Each night she made sure she left the environment in the same condition she encountered it. She thought of the file room as a sterile field that she could not contaminate with evidence of her presence. It was clean except for one thing. Reluctantly, she returned the deed to its cold prison.
She ran out of the bank and into the night.
Alfonzo was surprised to hear his unnamed guest return to the costume shop so early. She was clearly upset. He offered to help unmask her. He helped her into the dressing room chair. He peeled back the glamorous mask to reveal Betty's true face. It looked so sad. The Gypsy tried to console her but didn’t want to intrude into her life by asking a lot of questions. He said, "If you need me poppet I am here for you."
She broke down into his large arms. She cried extremely hard in a short burst then recovered. She became silent. She had to remember that she was supposed to go it alone. She couldn't risk involving anyone else. It was for their own good, and hers. She couldn't allow her emotions to compromise the secrecy of her lives. She pulled away from the gypsy and thanked him. She assured him that she was fine and excused herself. She took a long, hot shower then cried herself to sleep alone.
Betty and the Professor reviewed the material several times over the course of weeks. She didn’t set up regular meetings. He’d anxiously awaited her surprise visits and the packets full of goodies she'd bring. He would often linger at his office, waiting for this dark lady justice to reappear. The more she brought, the more excited he became. He reconstructed several crimes at once, but there were missing parts in every story line. It was frustrating to be so close, but all he could do was to sit and wait for more. He had no idea how to contact Witness X. All he could do was sit and wait night after night until she appeared again.
When Witness X arrived at the Professor's office it was clear that he was perturbed.
"Finally." He said with a roll of the eyes. "You certainly took your time since your last visit."
Betty didn’t care for his tone, but said nothing.
He snatched the bag of photos from her. Hoping to fill in the blank spots of the mystery. He rifled through her latest haul but didn’t find what he wanted. The last piece was still missing. If it was in the bank, she had not run across it yet. It was an obvious omission. The Professor could see Carson's smug smile in the courtroom again. His blood began to boil. His pulse pounded in his ears. He looked for something to break.
Unaware of his state Betty asked, “Well?”
“No, no, no, no. It’s not here!” He threw a hand full of the photos.
He turned toward her looking crazed and yelled. “You’ve got to use your head, girl! He’s tricking you somehow! Don’t be so stupid.”
She yelled back at him. “Don’t talk to me like that! I’m the one out there! I’m the one doing all the hard work, the dangerous work! I’m not the one sitting behind the desk. They might kill me if they catch me! I need your help, but not bad enough to take any abuse from you! I spent a lot of time collecting and making those enlargements! I’m tired, and frustrated, too. I barely get time to sleep and the last thing I need is the person I’m depending on turning into Mr. Hyde!”
He felt provoked and was about to explode.