But the most difficult individuals were those who believed that admitting the truth would destroy everything they had spent their lives building.
HARRIS: "What happens if I give you everything you need?"
EVELYN CARTER: "That depends on what you tell me."
HARRIS: "And if the information involves someone senior to me?"
EVELYN CARTER: "Then we investigate that person, too."
HARRIS: "Even if they're connected to people outside this department?"
EVELYN CARTER: "Especially then."
The lieutenant leaned back.
He looked toward the closed door.
Then he lowered his voice.
HARRIS: "There is something you need to know before you speak with anyone else."
Evelyn did not move.
HARRIS: "The missing report wasn't the first one."
Her eyes narrowed slightly.
EVELYN CARTER: "What do you mean?"
HARRIS: "There were other cases. Similar circumstances. Different officers. Different victims. The same unusual pattern."
Evelyn remained silent.
HARRIS: "At first, we thought they were unrelated incidents. Then certain records started disappearing. Witness statements were changed. Evidence transfers were delayed. Every time someone tried to raise questions, the investigation went nowhere."
EVELYN CARTER: "How many cases?"
Harris hesitated.
HARRIS: "At least six."
Evelyn opened her folder again.
She removed a blank sheet of paper and placed it in front of him.
EVELYN CARTER: "Write down every case number you remember."
HARRIS: "You don't understand. Some of these cases are still active."
EVELYN CARTER: "Then we will handle them according to the law."
HARRIS: "You need to be careful."
EVELYN CARTER: "I've been careful for twenty-one days."
HARRIS: "I'm not talking about the investigation."
He looked directly at her.
HARRIS: "I'm talking about you."
For the first time, Evelyn's expression became noticeably colder.
EVELYN CARTER: "Is that a warning, Lieutenant?"
HARRIS: "No. It's advice."
EVELYN CARTER: "I didn't come here for advice."
HARRIS: "Then you should at least know what happened the last time someone tried to expose this."
Evelyn slowly closed the folder.
EVELYN CARTER: "Tell me."
Harris looked at the documents again.
Then he began describing an incident that had taken place almost two years earlier, an incident involving a former detective who had questioned several questionable arrests and eventually disappeared from the department's records.
His resignation had been processed quietly.
His personnel file contained very little information.
His colleagues had been told that he had accepted another position in a different state.
But according to Harris, that explanation was not the whole story.
The detective had not simply left.
He had been investigating the same people Evelyn was now investigating.
And shortly before his departure, he had sent a message to someone outside the department.
A message that contained one sentence.
THEY KNOW WHO IS MOVING THE EVIDENCE.
Evelyn looked at Harris.
EVELYN CARTER: "Who received that message?"
HARRIS: "I don't know."
EVELYN CARTER: "You don't know, or you don't want to tell me?"
HARRIS: "I never saw the original message."
EVELYN CARTER: "But you heard about it."
HARRIS: "Yes."
EVELYN CARTER: "From whom?"
Harris remained silent.
Evelyn stood up and collected her documents.
EVELYN CARTER: "Lieutenant, I am going to give you one opportunity to cooperate fully. I don't expect you to know everything, and I don't expect you to solve this investigation for me. But I do expect you to stop protecting people who have no intention of protecting you."
Harris looked at her.
HARRIS: "You think that's what I'm doing?"
EVELYN CARTER: "I think you're afraid of something."
HARRIS: "You have no idea what I've been dealing with."
EVELYN CARTER: "Then tell me."
The lieutenant looked down.
For a long moment, neither spoke.
Then he reached into the bottom drawer of his desk and removed a small envelope.
It was old, slightly damaged, and had no return address.
He placed it on the desk.
HARRIS: "This was left for me several months ago."
Evelyn looked at it.
EVELYN CARTER: "What's inside?"
HARRIS: "A photograph."
She carefully opened the envelope.
Inside was a photograph showing three people standing outside the police station.
One was Lieutenant Harris.
Another was a man she did not recognize.
The third was a woman wearing a gray blazer.
Evelyn stared at the photograph.
Her face did not change immediately, but her fingers tightened around its edges.
The woman in the photograph was her.
And the date printed on the back was nearly two years old.
EVELYN CARTER: "Where did you get this?"
HARRIS: "I told you. Someone left it for me."
EVELYN CARTER: "Who?"
HARRIS: "I don't know."
Evelyn turned the photograph over again.
Below the date, someone had written a short message in black ink.
SHE WILL COME BACK WHEN THE TIME IS RIGHT.
For the first time since entering the station, Evelyn Carter appeared genuinely surprised.
Not because someone had photographed her.
Not because someone had known she would return.
But because the photograph had been taken on a day she had believed was completely unrelated to the investigation.
A day when she had come to the department for a different reason.
A day when she had spoken to someone she trusted.
And that person had never been mentioned in any of the reports she had reviewed.
EVELYN CARTER: "Lieutenant, I need you to answer one question."
HARRIS: "What is it?"
EVELYN CARTER: "Who was the third person standing beside us?"
Harris looked at the photograph.
His face became pale.
HARRIS: "I was hoping you wouldn't ask that."
EVELYN CARTER: "Why?"
HARRIS: "Because that person is still working in this building."