"I told him I couldn't discuss the investigation."
"Did he ask anything else?"
"He asked whether he should contact an attorney."
"That's his right."
"I know."
Whitmore looked uneasy.
"But I think he understands that something serious is happening."
Simone nodded.
"Then we should make sure he doesn't feel pressured to speak without legal advice."
Whitmore looked surprised.
"You would allow him to contact an attorney?"
"Of course. This investigation must be conducted properly. We are not interested in obtaining statements through intimidation."
She paused.
"Unlike what happened this morning."
Whitmore lowered his eyes.
At 3:15 p.m., a woman named Rachel Bennett arrived at the precinct.
She was in her early forties, dressed in a simple gray sweater and dark trousers. She carried a folder containing several documents.
At the reception desk, she asked to speak with the Department of Justice investigator.
The receptionist contacted Simone.
When Simone came downstairs, Rachel looked nervous.
"Ms. Brooks?"
"Yes. Are you Rachel Bennett?"
Rachel nodded.
"I received your message."
"Thank you for coming."
They walked to a private interview room.
Rachel sat down and placed the folder on the table.
"I wasn't sure I should come."
"That's understandable."
"I heard there's an investigation."
"We are reviewing several matters involving this department."
Rachel looked at the closed door.
"Is Officer Keller involved?"
Simone did not immediately answer.
"Why do you ask?"
Rachel swallowed.
"Because he was the one who arrested my brother."
Simone opened her notebook.
"What is your brother's name?"
"Michael Bennett."
"How long ago was he arrested?"
"About seven months."
"What happened?"
Rachel took a breath.
"My brother was stopped outside his apartment. The officers said his vehicle matched the description of a car involved in a robbery."
"Did it?"
"No. They eventually admitted the registration number was different."
"Was he charged?"
"He was charged with resisting arrest and interfering with an investigation."
"Was he convicted?"
"No. The case was dismissed."
Simone wrote down the details.
Rachel opened her folder.
"My brother told them he hadn't done anything. He asked why they were stopping him. Then one officer grabbed him."
"Do you know who?"
"Officer Keller."
Simone looked up.
"Are you certain?"
"I saw him."
"Were you present during the arrest?"
"I was standing on the apartment balcony."
"Did you record anything?"
Rachel removed a small USB drive.
"I recorded part of it on my phone."
Simone accepted the drive but did not immediately open it.
"Has anyone else seen this recording?"
"My brother's attorney."
"Did you provide a copy to the department?"
"No."
"Why not?"
Rachel looked at her.
"Because when I tried to complain, they told me the recording didn't show the beginning of the incident."
"Who told you that?"
"A supervisor. I don't remember his name."
"Did you submit a written complaint?"
"Yes."
"Do you have a copy?"
Rachel nodded.
She pulled several pages from the folder.
Simone examined them.
The complaint had been filed seven months earlier.
It described the arrest, the use of force, and the behavior of the officers involved.
The final page contained a handwritten note:
Complainant advised that further action is unnecessary because the matter has been resolved.
Simone looked up.
"Did you write this?"
Rachel shook her head.
"No."
"Did you agree to withdraw your complaint?"
"No."
"Did you sign this page?"
Rachel looked at it carefully.
Her expression changed.
"That's not my signature."
Simone examined the document.
The signature at the bottom was clearly different from the signature on Rachel's identification form.
"Did anyone ask you to sign a withdrawal?"
"No."
"Did anyone contact you after the complaint was filed?"
Rachel hesitated.
"Yes."
"Who?"
"A man called me. He said he worked with the department. He told me that if I kept making accusations, I could create problems for my brother."
Simone's pen stopped.
"What exactly did he say?"
"He said Michael had already been given a chance. He said I should be grateful the charges were dismissed."
"Did he identify himself?"
"He said his name was Paul."
Simone felt a familiar tension in her shoulders.
"Do you remember his surname?"
Rachel shook her head.
"No. But I remember his voice."
"Would you be able to recognize him?"
"I think so."
Simone closed the folder.
"Rachel, I want you to understand that you did the right thing by coming forward. We will preserve the material you provided and verify it independently."
Rachel's eyes became wet.
"Are you going to tell them I came here?"
"Your information will be handled under the appropriate confidentiality procedures. We cannot promise that your identity will never become relevant in legal proceedings, but we will not disclose it casually."
Rachel nodded.
For a moment, she looked as though she wanted to say something else.
Then she whispered:
"I just want someone to believe us."
Simone looked directly at her.
"Your evidence will be examined. You will be given an opportunity to tell your story. And nobody should have to threaten you into silence."
Rachel wiped her eyes.
"Thank you."
When the interview ended, Simone remained in the room for several minutes.
The complaint had been closed without Rachel's authorization.
A signature had apparently been fabricated.
And someone named Paul had contacted her.
The name was becoming familiar.
Paul Mercer.
Deputy Records Administrator.
The same man connected to the email about the Walker evidence log.
At 4:10 p.m., Captain Richard Lawson finally returned to the precinct.
He was fifty-three years old, tall, clean-shaven, and known for his polished appearance. His uniform was immaculate, his shoes shined, and his silver rank insignia perfectly aligned.
He walked through the main entrance carrying a leather briefcase.
At first, he noticed nothing unusual.
Then he saw several officers gathered near the chief's office.
He approached the reception desk.
"What's going on?"
The receptionist looked uncomfortable.
"Chief Whitmore is expecting you."
"Did he say why?"
"No, sir."
Lawson nodded and continued down the corridor.
When he entered the chief's office, Simone was already seated.
Whitmore stood near the desk.
Lawson stopped.
"Chief."
"Richard. Come in."
Lawson looked at Simone.
"Who is this?"
Whitmore's expression hardened.
"This is Senior Investigator Simone Brooks with the Department of Justice."
Lawson immediately adjusted his posture.
"Investigator. I wasn't aware you had arrived."
"I arrived this morning."
"Well, welcome."
He offered a polite smile.
Simone did not return it.
"Thank you, Captain."
Lawson placed his briefcase on the chair.
"What can I do for you?"
"I'd like to discuss several administrative records."
"Certainly."