"Thank you."
Marcus picked up his bag and started walking.
But Nolan wasn't finished.
"Hey!"
Marcus stopped.
"One more thing."
He turned around.
Nolan leaned against the counter, his coffee cup resting beside a stack of paperwork.
"We don't have time to babysit transfers. You're going to be assigned regular patrol duties, just like everyone else. No special treatment. No shortcuts."
Marcus looked at him.
"That's exactly what I expected."
"Good."
Nolan smiled again.
"Because if you make a mistake, nobody here is going to cover for you."
Marcus gave a slight nod.
"I wouldn't expect them to."
Then he continued toward the stairs.
Behind him, Nolan shook his head.
"Another guy who thinks he's something special."
The officers around him laughed awkwardly.
But one person didn't.
Sergeant Daniel Brooks, a veteran officer with twenty-six years of service, had been watching the entire exchange from a desk near the windows.
He slowly lowered his newspaper.
There was something about Marcus that bothered him.
Not in a negative way.
It was the way the man had handled Nolan.
No raised voice. No threats. No attempt to establish dominance.
He had simply stood there and allowed Nolan to reveal exactly who he was.
Brooks had seen that kind of composure before.
Usually in people who had already spent years working at a level far beyond ordinary patrol assignments.
"What's funny?" Brooks asked.
Nolan turned.
"What?"
"You've been laughing for the last thirty seconds."
Nolan shrugged.
"Just welcoming our new colleague."
Brooks looked toward the staircase.
"That's what you call it?"
"Come on, Sergeant. The guy walks in carrying a duffel bag and acts like he's above everyone."
Brooks folded his newspaper.
"Maybe you should find out who he is before deciding what he thinks."
Nolan laughed.
"He's a transfer. That's all."
Brooks didn't respond.
Instead, he returned his attention to the newspaper.
But something told him that the morning was about to become considerably more interesting.
Marcus reached the second floor.
The hallway was quieter than the bullpen. Several offices lined the walls, their doors marked with names and department titles.
He stopped outside the final office.
The nameplate read:
LIEUTENANT JAMES HARRIS
CENTRAL DISTRICT OPERATIONS
Marcus knocked twice.
"Come in."
A man in his late fifties sat behind a large desk covered with folders. Lieutenant Harris had gray hair, tired eyes, and the unmistakable posture of someone who had spent decades dealing with bureaucratic complications.
He looked up.
"Officer Bennett?"
"Yes, sir."
Harris stood immediately.
"Well, I'll be damned."
He walked around the desk and extended his hand.
"Marcus Bennett. It's good to finally meet you."
Marcus shook his hand.
"Likewise, Lieutenant."
Harris gestured toward a chair.
"Please, sit down. I was expecting you earlier."
"There was a little confusion downstairs."
Harris frowned.
"What kind of confusion?"
"Nothing significant. I was stopped by one of the officers."
"Who?"
"Officer Nolan."
The lieutenant's expression changed.
For a moment, he simply stared at Marcus.
Then he sighed.
"Of course."
Marcus sat quietly.
Harris returned to his chair.
"Let me guess. He introduced himself as the person in charge?"
"Something along those lines."
"Did he tell you to prove you belonged?"
Marcus gave a faint smile.
"Those were his exact words."
Harris rubbed his forehead.
"Unbelievable."
He leaned back.
"Listen, Marcus. I apologize for that. Nolan has been here for about six years. He's a capable patrol officer, but he has a problem understanding the difference between seniority and authority."
Marcus didn't answer.
Harris opened a drawer.
"Before we discuss your assignment, I want to make sure you understand why you've been transferred here."
"Yes, sir."
"Your previous work has been reviewed. Your background has been verified. Your appointment was approved directly through the Office of the Chief."
Marcus nodded.
Harris continued.
"Your official position is not something we discuss in the bullpen. Only a handful of people in this building have received the full briefing."
"Understood."
"Your initial assignment is to conduct an internal operational assessment. You'll be working with the chief's office to examine certain irregularities in the Central District."
Marcus's expression remained neutral.
"Are the personnel aware?"
"Not all of them."
"That's probably for the best."
Harris studied him.
"You're still comfortable proceeding?"
"I accepted the assignment, Lieutenant."
"Good."
Harris opened another folder.
"There's been a series of concerns over the last nine months. Missing evidence, altered incident reports, questionable overtime claims, and several complaints involving officers who appear to have received preferential treatment."
Marcus listened carefully.
"How many cases?"
"Twenty-three documented incidents. Possibly more."
"Any confirmed connections?"
"Not yet. That's what we're trying to establish."
Marcus glanced at the folder.
"Who has access to the evidence records?"
"That's one of the problems."
Harris lowered his voice.
"Several people."
Marcus nodded.
"Then we should assume the information is already compromised."
Harris gave him a long look.
"That's exactly why the chief requested you."