"You believe the badge belongs to you. It doesn't. It represents an obligation to the people you serve."
For a moment, nobody spoke.
Then Marcus laughed.
"You're an interesting old man."
He picked up the government document.
"Tell me what this is."
Walter studied the paper.
"An authorization for the release of archived evidence."
"Evidence from what case?"
"The Millbrook corruption investigation."
Marcus's face changed.
"That case was closed."
"No. The public was told it was closed."
Marcus stared at him.
Walter continued.
"Three officers were accused of stealing confiscated money. One disappeared. Another was murdered. The third was forced to resign. The original evidence was never recovered."
Marcus leaned closer.
"And what does that have to do with me?"
"Your department inherited the people responsible."
Marcus's hand tightened around the document.
Then Walter said something that made the lieutenant take a step backward.
"Your father was one of the officers I investigated."
Silence filled the room.
Marcus's father, Richard Reed, had been a respected police captain who died eight years earlier.
At least, that was what everyone believed.
Marcus swallowed.
"Don't you dare talk about my father."
Walter remained calm.
"Your father wasn't the criminal mastermind. He was a witness who tried to expose the operation. Someone made sure he never got the chance."
Marcus stared at him.
"You're lying."
"I wish I were."
Marcus abruptly left the room.
Daniel had been standing outside the door, listening to part of the conversation.
He approached his superior.
"Lieutenant, what's going on?"
Marcus grabbed him by the shoulder.
"Listen to me carefully. That old man is dangerous."
"Because of the documents?"
"Because he knows things he shouldn't know."
Daniel looked through the glass window.
Walter was sitting quietly with his hands folded.
"He doesn't look dangerous."
Marcus turned toward him.
"Neither does a bomb before it explodes."
At 7:45 p.m., Chief Harold Bennett arrived at the station.
He was a sixty-year-old man with a carefully maintained appearance and a reputation for being politically connected.
Marcus met him near the entrance.
"Chief, we have a situation."
"What kind of situation?"
Marcus lowered his voice.
"We arrested Walter Hayes."
The chief stopped walking.
"Say that again."
"Walter Hayes. The investigator from the old corruption case."
For several seconds, Bennett did not speak.
Then he asked:
"Where is he?"
"Interrogation room three."
"Who else knows?"
"Daniel Price. A few officers saw the arrest."
Bennett closed his eyes.
"Did you take anything from him?"
Marcus hesitated.
"Some documents."
"Where are they?"
"In my office."
The chief grabbed his arm.
"Get them. Now."
Marcus hurried away.
Inside the interrogation room, Walter heard the door open.
A man in an expensive suit entered.
He looked at Walter for several seconds.
"Walter Hayes."
"Harold Bennett."
The chief pulled out a chair.
"I never thought I'd see you again."
"Neither did I."
Bennett glanced at the empty chair across from him.
"How have you been?"
"Old."
"Still carrying grudges?"
Walter shook his head.
"Grudges are for people who haven't found the truth."
Bennett smiled faintly.
"You always were dramatic."
Walter leaned forward.
"Tell me something, Harold. Did you ever find out who ordered the disappearance of the original evidence?"
The chief's smile vanished.
"That was fifteen years ago."
"Yes. And someone has been making money from it ever since."
Bennett looked toward the interrogation room camera.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Listen to me. Whatever you think you have, it isn't enough."
Walter studied him.
"Are you sure?"
Bennett stood.
"You should have stayed retired."
Walter looked up.
"I tried."
The chief walked toward the door.
Then Walter spoke again.
"Harold."
Bennett stopped.
"Your name appears in the financial records."
The chief slowly turned around.
"That's impossible."
"No. What's impossible is that you thought nobody would ever look."
For the first time that evening, Chief Bennett looked genuinely frightened.
He left without another word.
Outside, Marcus was waiting.
"Chief?"
Bennett grabbed his arm.
"We need to find out how much he knows."
Marcus nodded.
"And the documents?"
"Destroy them."
Marcus hesitated.
"All of them?"
Bennett stared at him.
"Did I stutter?"
Across the hallway, Daniel had heard enough to understand that something terrible was happening.
He looked at the interrogation room.
Then at the chief.
For the first time in his career, he realized that the people giving orders might be the very people the law was supposed to stop.
At 9:15 p.m., Daniel was assigned to bring Walter some water.
He entered the interrogation room and placed a plastic cup on the table.
"Here you go."
"Thank you."
Daniel looked toward the camera.
Then he lowered his voice.
"Sir, I heard some of what you said."
Walter nodded.
"I thought you might."
"Are you really a federal investigator?"
"I was."
"Why did you leave?"
Walter looked at the cup.
"Because sometimes the people who want the truth buried have more power than the people trying to uncover it."
Daniel pulled out a chair.
"What's happening here?"
Walter studied the young officer.
"Do you trust your lieutenant?"
Daniel hesitated.
"I used to."
"That wasn't my question."
Daniel looked down.
"No."
Walter nodded.
"Then you already know more than you think."
Daniel leaned closer.
"I saw Lieutenant Reed take your documents. I also heard Chief Bennett tell him to destroy them."
Walter's expression remained unchanged.
"Did you see where he put them?"
"In his office."
"Good."
Daniel looked surprised.
"Good?"
Walter smiled slightly.
"Now I know the evidence is still inside the building."
Daniel stared at him.
"You're not worried?"
"I am worried about you."
"About me?"
"Yes. Because you still have something they lost a long time ago."
"What?"
"Your conscience."
Daniel looked away.
For several seconds, the room was silent.
Then he asked:
"What do you want me to do?"
Walter reached into the inside pocket of his coat and produced a small photograph.
It showed a young woman standing beside a man in a police uniform.
"Do you recognize her?"
Daniel examined the picture.
"No."
"Her name was Emily Carter. She worked as an accountant for the Millbrook Police Department fifteen years ago."
"What happened to her?"