"Come in."
Sullivan entered.
"Officer Hayes."
Hayes followed.
Isaiah pointed toward two chairs.
"Sit."
They did.
Isaiah opened another file.
"I want to start with your arrest of me."
Sullivan swallowed.
"Yes, sir."
"Tell me what happened."
Sullivan stared at the table.
"There was an altercation."
"That isn't what I asked."
Sullivan looked up.
"Sir, I believed you were interfering with police operations."
"What operation?"
Sullivan hesitated.
"We were handling complaints."
"You were not handling them."
Isaiah's voice was calm.
"You were dismissing them."
Sullivan looked at Brooks.
Isaiah noticed.
"Look at me."
Sullivan did.
"Did I strike you?"
"No."
"Did I threaten you?"
"No."
"Did I resist arrest?"
Sullivan didn't answer.\
Chapter
Isaiah waited.
"No, sir."
"Did I assault you?"
"No."
"Then why did you write that?"
"I haven't written it yet."
"Why were you preparing to?"
Sullivan's face tightened.
"I made a judgment."
Isaiah nodded.
"Good."
Sullivan looked surprised.
Isaiah continued.
"Now tell me what influenced that judgment."
Sullivan remained silent.
Isaiah closed the folder.
"That's the question."
He looked at Hayes.
"What influenced yours?"
Hayes said nothing.
Isaiah leaned back.
"Neither of you needs to answer immediately."
He stood.
"You will have counsel available during any formal disciplinary process."
Then he added,
"But before this becomes a disciplinary process, it is an evidence-preservation process."
He looked at Brooks.
"Captain, I want an administrative hold placed on all relevant records."
"Understood."
"Both officers are relieved from public-contact duties pending review."
Sullivan's head lifted.
"Commander—"
Isaiah continued.
"This is not a final disciplinary decision."
Sullivan stopped.
"It is a temporary administrative measure to protect the integrity of the review."
Hayes looked angry.
"You can't do that based on one incident."
Isaiah looked at him.
"I can recommend administrative action under department procedure."
He paused.
"And I'm not basing it on one incident."
Hayes's expression changed.
"What do you mean?"
Isaiah opened another folder.
"Twenty-seven complaints."
Silence.
"Twenty-seven complaints associated with this precinct over the last fourteen months."
Captain Brooks looked at the folder.
"I've seen those."
Isaiah looked at her.
"Have you?"
Brooks stiffened.
"What does that mean?"
"Three complaints were marked resolved without documented interviews."
Brooks frowned.
"That shouldn't have happened."
"Six were closed with nearly identical language."
She looked at him.
"That's possible."
Isaiah turned a page.
"Nine involved allegations of officers discouraging complainants from filing."
Sullivan stared at the table.
"Four referenced missing property."
Hayes looked up.
"And two involved body-camera footage that could not be located."
Brooks's face changed.
"Commander, I was not aware of that."
Isaiah nodded.
"That's exactly why I'm here."
He closed the folder.
"For the next seventy-two hours, nobody in this building will alter an existing complaint record."
"Understood."
"Any alteration will be logged."
"Understood."
"Any missing evidence will be reported."
"Understood."
"And anyone who attempts to interfere with a witness will be removed from the review."
No one answered.
Isaiah looked around.
"I don't expect everyone here to like me."
He paused.
"I expect everyone here to follow the rules."
The meeting ended at 9:47.
But the real trouble began at 10:12.
A records clerk named Elena Ramirez was sitting alone in the basement archive when her phone vibrated.
Unknown number.
She ignored it.
It vibrated again.
She answered.
"Hello?"
A man's voice said,
"Stop pulling old complaint files."
Elena froze.
"Who is this?"
"You know who."
"I don't."
"Then you should."
The call ended.
Elena stared at the phone.
She looked around the archive.
There was nobody there.
She slowly opened the drawer she had been working on.
Inside were old complaint folders.
One folder was marked:
PROPERTY DISCREPANCIES.
She had been instructed to locate it.
She pulled it out.
Inside were reports from the previous year.
Several pages had been photocopied.
Some signatures were missing.
One report had handwritten notes in the margin.
Elena read the first line.
"Original evidence inventory differs from final property report."
She frowned.
Then she noticed something else.
The same officer name appeared repeatedly.
Thomas Grant.
Former lieutenant.
Retired eighteen months earlier.
Elena turned another page.
A second name appeared.
Derek Sullivan.
She stared at it.
Her phone vibrated again.
This time it was a text.
DELETE THE FILE.
Elena's hands began to shake.
She looked at the archive door.
Then she made a decision.
She photographed the file.
Every page.
She sent the images to nobody.
Not yet.
Instead, she placed the original back into the drawer.
Then she walked upstairs.
At 10:28, she knocked on Isaiah's office door.
"Come in."
She entered.
"Commander."
Isaiah looked up.
"Elena Ramirez?"
"Yes."
"What can I do for you?"
She closed the door behind her.
"I found something."
Isaiah waited.
She placed the folder on his desk.
"I don't know what it means."
Isaiah opened it.
He read the first page.
Then the second.
Then the third.
His expression barely changed.
But Elena noticed his posture become more rigid.
"Who told you to retrieve this?"
"The records request."
"From whom?"
"Captain Brooks's office."
Isaiah looked at the folder.
"Did anyone contact you?"
Elena hesitated.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"I don't know."
"What did they say?"
She told him.
Isaiah listened without interrupting.
When she finished, he said,
"Did you preserve the message?"
"Yes."
"Good."
He stood.
"From this moment forward, don't discuss this file with anyone except me or the designated investigator."
Elena nodded.
"Am I in trouble?"
Isaiah looked at her.
"No."
She seemed surprised.
"You did the right thing."
Her eyes lowered.