When the deputy chief finished describing the department's current staffing situation, Ethan asked one question.
“How many active internal investigations are currently open?”
Langley glanced at Hayes.
“Twenty-three.”
“How many involve sworn personnel?”
“Seventeen.”
“How many involve supervisors?”
There was a pause.
“Six.”
Ethan nodded.
“Any command staff?”
Another pause.
“One.”
Ethan looked down at his notes.
“Who?”
Langley answered.
“Sergeant Mercer.”
The room became quiet.
Ethan slowly looked up.
“What's the allegation?”
“Conduct unbecoming.”
“Specific conduct?”
Langley shifted in his chair.
“Excessive force during an arrest.”
Ethan wrote something down.
“Is the investigation still active?”
“Yes.”
“Who is conducting it?”
“Professional Standards.”
“Who supervises Professional Standards?”
Langley looked toward Hayes.
“Technically, the deputy chief.”
Ethan looked at Langley.
“Technically?”
Hayes answered.
“The unit reports through command, but serious matters are reviewed by the commission.”
Ethan nodded.
That answer bothered him.
Not because it was unusual.
Because it was vague.
He closed his folder.
“I want the complete Professional Standards file on Sergeant Mercer.”
Langley looked surprised.
“Today?”
“Yes.”
“Before you've even been introduced to the department?”
“Yes.”
Hayes watched Ethan carefully.
“Is this because of this morning?”
Ethan shook his head.
“No.”
“Then why?”
“Because if a supervisor has an active excessive-force investigation, I need to know whether his judgment is being affected.”
Langley leaned back.
“You think the incident this morning was excessive force?”
“I think I don't know yet.”
That answer ended the argument.
Ethan stood.
“I'd like to meet Professional Standards.”
Hayes nodded.
“I'll arrange it.”
Ethan picked up his folder.
Then Collins spoke for the first time.
“Chief?”
Ethan turned toward her.
“Yes?”
“You didn't ask whether Sergeant Mercer had been disciplined before.”
Ethan looked at her.
“No.”
“Why not?”
“Because past discipline isn't relevant until I understand the current allegation.”
Collins nodded slowly.
“I thought you might ask.”
Ethan studied her for a moment.
“Why?”
She gave a small smile.
“Because everyone asks.”
Ethan returned the smile.
“I don't like asking questions I already know the answer to.”
Collins looked down at her notebook.
Ethan noticed something.
She had written his name at the top of the page.
Not “Chief Brooks.”
Just “Ethan Brooks.”
That told him something.
She wasn't treating him like a superior.
She was treating him like a subject.
Ethan didn't object.
He preferred people who observed carefully.
The meeting ended at 8:12.
Ethan left the conference room alone.
As he walked through the administrative hallway, he heard footsteps behind him.
He turned.
Lieutenant Collins was approaching.
“Chief.”
“Yes?”
“I wanted to apologize for not recognizing you this morning.”
Ethan looked at her.
“You weren't the one who handcuffed me.”
“No.”
“Then don't apologize.”
She nodded.
“I should have stopped it sooner.”
“You tried.”
“Not hard enough.”
Ethan said nothing.
Collins lowered her voice.
“Sergeant Mercer doesn't like being questioned.”
“Most people don't.”
“No.”
She looked around the hallway.
“Mercer doesn't like being questioned by anyone.”
Ethan understood the distinction.
“Is that why he has an excessive-force investigation?”
Collins hesitated.
“Partly.”
“What does the other part mean?”
She looked directly at him.
“Chief, you just got here.”
“I know.”
“You should be careful about what you ask before you know who you're asking.”
Ethan studied her.
“Is that advice?”
“Yes.”
“Or a warning?”
Collins paused.
Then she said, “I haven't decided yet.”
She walked away.
Ethan watched her disappear around the corner.
For the first time that morning, he felt genuinely interested.
Not alarmed.
Interested.
He continued toward Professional Standards.
The office was on the second floor, behind a glass door with a small sign.
PROFESSIONAL STANDARDS UNIT.
Ethan knocked.
No one answered.
He knocked again.
A voice finally called from inside.
“Come in.”
Ethan opened the door.
Three desks occupied the room.
Only one officer was present.
Detective Aaron Mitchell.
Mitchell stood immediately.
“Chief.”
Ethan nodded.
“Detective.”
Mitchell looked nervous.
Ethan noticed.
“Are you expecting me?”
Mitchell blinked.
“No.”
“Then why are you nervous?”
Mitchell gave a small laugh.
“New chief.”
“That doesn't answer the question.”
Mitchell stopped smiling.
Ethan walked toward the desk.
“I need Sergeant Mercer's Professional Standards file.”
Mitchell hesitated.
“I'll have to check access.”
“You're Professional Standards.”
“Yes.”
“So check.”
Mitchell sat down and began typing.
Ethan waited.
After a few seconds, Mitchell looked at him.
“There are restrictions.”
“What restrictions?”
“Some of the file is under commission review.”
Ethan nodded.
“Which part?”
Mitchell looked at the screen.
“The witness statements.”
“Why?”
“Confidentiality.”
“That's normal.”
Mitchell seemed relieved.
“But I want the portions available to command.”
Mitchell nodded.
“I can prepare those.”
“When?”
“End of day.”
Ethan looked at him.
“Before lunch.”
Mitchell swallowed.
“I'll try.”
“No.”
Ethan's voice remained calm.
“Don't try.”
Mitchell looked up.
“Do it.”
“Yes, Chief.”
Ethan turned to leave.
Before he reached the door, Mitchell spoke.
“Chief?”
Ethan turned.
Mitchell lowered his voice.
“There is something else.”
“What?”
“The file isn't the only thing you should review.”