"Did you follow the proper procedure?"
Ryan said nothing.
Daniel closed the file.
"This is exactly why the commander wants the records reviewed."
Ryan's face became pale.
"Are you saying those complaints are going to be reopened?"
"I'm saying they will be examined as part of the review. The decision will be made according to departmental policy."
Ryan leaned forward.
"Lieutenant, I have a family. I have bills. I can't afford to lose my job over this."
Daniel's expression softened slightly, but his voice remained professional.
"Then you should have thought about the consequences before you mistreated someone."
Ryan lowered his head.
He had spent years focusing on the privileges that came with his uniform. He had rarely considered the responsibility attached to it.
Now those responsibilities were being placed directly in front of him.
Meanwhile, Nathan was still reviewing the department's records.
The director returned with a second folder.
"Commander, these are the preliminary complaint summaries from the last twenty-four months."
Nathan opened it.
The first few pages contained routine reports: delays, disagreements about access procedures, and complaints that had been resolved through clarification.
But as he continued reading, he noticed several recurring names.
Some officers appeared in multiple complaints.
In several cases, the original reports described aggressive language, unnecessary intimidation, or failure to explain basic procedures.
Yet the outcomes were often marked as insufficient evidence or informal resolution.
Nathan turned to the director.
"Who reviews these complaints?"
"The relevant division supervisors initially. Serious allegations are forwarded to internal affairs."
"And who decides whether a complaint is serious enough to be forwarded?"
"Usually the supervisor responsible for the officer."
Nathan looked at the report again.
"So the first assessment is often made by someone who works closely with the person being investigated."
"That's correct, Commander."
Nathan placed the folder on the table.
"That creates a potential conflict of interest."
The director nodded cautiously.
"It can, yes."
Nathan turned to another page.
"Who is responsible for monitoring repeated complaints?"
"Internal affairs maintains the records, but there isn't currently an automatic review process for every repeated allegation."
Nathan looked up.
"Why not?"
The director hesitated.
"The department has been dealing with staffing shortages and a large number of operational demands."
Nathan nodded slowly.
"Those may explain delays. They do not explain why repeated concerns go unnoticed."
He closed the folder.
"I want a complete list of officers who have received multiple complaints. Include the dates, nature of the allegations, supervisors involved, and final outcomes."
The director wrote down the instruction.
"Understood."
Nathan looked toward the window again.
Outside, officers continued walking through the courtyard. Some were laughing, others were carrying equipment, and a patrol vehicle had just returned from the streets.
The department appeared normal.
But Nathan knew that institutional problems were often hidden beneath ordinary routines.
They did not always begin with dramatic acts of corruption. Sometimes they began with small abuses of authority that were ignored because they seemed inconvenient to address.
A rude comment.
An unnecessary threat.
A refusal to explain a procedure.
A supervisor choosing not to investigate.
And eventually, an officer who believed he could throw hot coffee into someone's face outside police headquarters without facing consequences.
Nathan turned back toward the director.
"Arrange a meeting with the senior leadership team this afternoon."
"Today?"
"Yes."
"Would you like me to prepare a formal agenda?"
Nathan considered the question.
"Include three subjects: professional conduct, complaint accountability, and the relationship between supervisors and frontline officers."
The director nodded.
"I'll arrange it."
Nathan added one more instruction.
"And make sure the people responsible for the entrance security procedures attend."
"Of course."
The director gathered the documents.
Before leaving, he paused.
"Commander, may I ask something?"
"Go ahead."
"Do you intend to make Officer Pierce an example of the department's standards?"
Nathan looked at him carefully.
"No."
The director seemed surprised.
Nathan continued.
"I intend to make sure he receives a fair investigation. If he violated policy, there must be appropriate consequences. If there are other officers with similar conduct, they must be reviewed as well."
He paused.
"This is not about finding one person to blame. It's about making sure the same behavior doesn't continue."
The director nodded.
"I understand."
After the director left, Nathan remained alone in the conference room.
He looked down at the coffee stains still visible on his sleeve.
For a moment, he remembered the faces of people he had encountered throughout his career: citizens who had been afraid to report misconduct, families who had lost trust in law enforcement, and junior officers who had witnessed wrongdoing but remained silent because they feared retaliation.
He knew that the incident outside the building could become a turning point.
But only if the department handled it properly.
A senior commander could issue orders, demand reports, and change procedures. Yet genuine reform required more than a signature on a document.
It required people at every level to understand why those changes mattered.