He arrived wearing the same uniform, although his earlier confidence had disappeared.
His hair was no longer perfectly arranged.
His shoulders were tense.
He stood in front of Ethan's desk.
"Chief, you wanted to see me?"
"Yes. Sit down."
Nolan sat.
Ethan opened a folder.
"How long have you worked for this department?"
"Seven years, sir."
"Any disciplinary actions?"
"One formal counseling session."
"For what?"
"An incident involving a traffic stop."
"Explain."
Nolan shifted.
"There was a disagreement with a civilian."
"What kind of disagreement?"
"The individual was uncooperative."
"Was force used?"
"A minor physical intervention."
"Was the intervention justified?"
"Yes, sir."
"According to whom?"
Nolan looked uncomfortable.
"The internal review."
"Which was supervised by Captain Harris."
"Yes."
Ethan turned a page.
"Do you know a man named Jordan Ellis?"
Nolan's expression changed.
"Yes."
"Tell me about him."
"He was involved in an incident last year."
"Your incident?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember what happened?"
Nolan gave a practiced answer.
"He became aggressive during a routine stop. I used appropriate control techniques."
Ethan placed a photograph on the desk.
It showed Jordan with a bandage above his eyebrow.
"Do you recognize this?"
Nolan glanced at it.
"Yes."
"Do you remember causing that injury?"
"Sir, I don't believe I caused it."
Ethan opened another folder.
"Then perhaps you can explain this."
He turned a laptop toward Nolan.
A video appeared.
It showed the street outside the convenience store.
The camera angle was distant, but the sequence was clear.
Jordan stood beside the patrol car.
Nolan approached.
Jordan raised his hands.
Nolan pushed him against the vehicle.
The teenager's head struck the metal frame.
Then Nolan grabbed his arm.
The video ended.
Nolan stared at the screen.
"That's not the full recording."
"You're correct."
Ethan opened another file.
"Fortunately, we have the full recording."
Nolan's face tightened.
"Chief, I was following procedure."
"That is not what the footage suggests."
"Respectfully, you weren't there."
Ethan looked at him.
"Neither were you, apparently, when you wrote your report."
Nolan's jaw clenched.
"I don't appreciate being treated like a criminal."
Ethan closed the laptop.
"Neither did Jordan Ellis."
Nolan looked away.
"That case was closed."
"Not anymore."
"Captain Harris approved the report."
"That doesn't make it correct."
Nolan leaned forward.
"Sir, with all due respect, you're new here. You don't know how things work."
Ethan remained silent for several seconds.
Then he spoke.
"You're right about one thing, Officer Pierce."
Nolan looked up.
"I am new here."
Ethan placed the folder on the desk.
"Which means I have not yet become accustomed to accepting unacceptable behavior."
Nolan said nothing.
"Your conduct this morning will be reviewed separately. The Jordan Ellis case will also be reopened. You will not contact the complainant, any witnesses, or any officers involved in the review without authorization."
"Am I suspended?"
"Not at this moment."
Nolan exhaled.
"But you are being placed on administrative reassignment pending further review."
His face fell.
"Sir..."
"That's all."
Nolan stood.
For a moment, he seemed ready to argue.
Then he turned and walked out.
As he reached the hallway, he took his phone from his pocket.
He stared at the screen.
Then he sent a message.
We have a problem. Cole is here. He knows about Jordan.
The reply came less than thirty seconds later.
Don't say anything. Come see me after your shift.
The sender was Captain Robert Harris.
Ethan's first week as chief was unlike anything the precinct had experienced.
He did not begin with speeches about teamwork.
He did not organize a ceremonial event.
He did not spend hours taking photographs with officers.
Instead, he requested records.
He interviewed employees.
He reviewed complaint files.
He spoke to administrative staff, patrol officers, detectives, and civilian employees.
And he listened.
One of the most revealing conversations took place in a small break room on Thursday afternoon.
Sergeant Michael Reeves sat across from him.
Michael was forty-five and had served in the department for nineteen years.
He had once been considered one of the strongest candidates for promotion to lieutenant.
Then, eleven months earlier, he had questioned the handling of a missing evidence report.
The evidence involved a vehicle seized during a drug investigation.
According to the official inventory, a substantial amount of cash had been recovered.
But the evidence-room records showed a discrepancy.
Michael had reported it.
Two days later, he received a notice of transfer.
His promotion recommendation was withdrawn.
And his annual evaluation suddenly described him as difficult to work with.
Ethan listened without interruption.
"Did you keep copies of your original report?"
Michael nodded.
"Yes, Chief."
"Where are they?"
"In a secure location."
"Can you provide them to the independent review team?"
"Yes."
Michael hesitated.
"Chief, may I ask you something?"