“Because I found out it was never investigated.”
“How?”
Julian looked toward the lobby. Harlan was visible beyond the glass. He stood near the front desk speaking quietly with Owen. Julian turned back.
“The morning I arrived, officers detained me before verifying who I was.”
Mateo stared.
“You?”
“Yes.”
“The chief?”
“I wasn’t chief to them yet.”
Mateo considered that.
“Did they apologize?”
“Yes.”
“Did that fix it?”
“No.”
Mateo’s eyes remained on him. Julian continued.
“But it forced a question I should have been asking anyway.”
“What question?”
“Whether people here are treated according to what they’ve done or according to what someone assumes about them first.”
Mateo looked down. For a while, neither spoke.
Then Mateo said, “Are you firing them?” Julian answered carefully.
“The investigation isn’t finished.”
Mateo’s mouth tightened.
“So maybe nothing happens again.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’t say anything.”
Julian understood the frustration. More importantly, he understood the temptation. He could promise Mateo a result. He could give him the reassurance the department had denied him. He could say Cross would be fired, Harlan disciplined, policies changed. He could become the kind of chief who sounded decisive before the facts were complete. It would feel good.
That was exactly why he did not do it.
“I can promise you this,” Julian said.
Mateo waited.
“The complaint will receive a documented finding. You will be told what that finding is. The officers involved will be interviewed. The footage will be reviewed. My own staff’s failure to investigate will be part of the record.”
Mateo watched him.
“That’s it?”
“That’s what I can promise honestly.”
Mateo looked disappointed. Julian allowed it. An honest promise offered less immediate comfort than the one Mateo wanted. It was also more useful.
“When will I hear from you?” Mateo asked.
Julian opened his calendar and gave him a date for an update, rather than inventing a completion date he could not guarantee. If the review was still open then, Mateo would be told what remained to be done.
“And if I call before that?”
“Nora can check the case number. You won’t have to begin the story again.”
Mateo copied the number onto the back of his own complaint. His handwriting was smaller than the chief’s. He took care to include every digit.
Julian asked him to check the recorded summary when it was prepared. Details about the address, the phone, and the words spoken during the stop needed to be accurate. Mateo could identify a disagreement without being accused of obstructing the process.
“You mean I can say you got something wrong.”
“Yes.”
“Even if you don’t agree?”
“Then the disagreement can be recorded too.”
Mateo sat back. He had expected to spend the meeting defending the fact that he complained. Instead he was being asked to remain involved after speaking. He was not ready to call that trust, but it gave him something concrete to judge.
“Don’t just send a letter that says you looked into it,” he said.
“I won’t.”
“And don’t say I agreed with everything because I came here.”
Julian wrote that instruction beneath the case number and turned the notebook so Mateo could see it. The teenager read the line, then nodded. It was a modest ending to a difficult conversation. For the first time since filing the complaint, however, he knew what the next step was supposed to be and who would answer if it failed to happen.
When the interview ended, Mateo stood. At the doorway he stopped.
“Chief?”
“Yes?”
“You said they handcuffed you.”
“Yes.”
“What did you do?”
“Nothing.”
Mateo frowned.
“You just sat there?”
“For eight minutes.”
“Why?”
Julian thought about the laughter. The briefcase kicked aside. The young officer looking at his wrists.
“Because I wanted to know what they would do next.”
Mateo nodded slowly.
“And?”
Julian looked toward the lobby.
“I found out.”
Mateo left. Harlan watched him walk through the station. When the front doors closed, Harlan came to Julian’s office.
“How did it go?”
Julian looked at him.
“You know you should have spoken to him months ago.”
Harlan nodded.
“Yes.”
“Do you want to know what he said?”
Harlan hesitated.
“Yes.”
Julian leaned back.
“He called twice after filing the complaint.”
Harlan’s expression changed.
“I didn’t know that.”
“That’s the problem.”
Harlan looked through the glass.
“He thought nothing would happen.”
Harlan said nothing. Julian continued.
“He stopped calling because the department taught him there was no point.”
Harlan lowered his eyes.
“That’s on me.”
“Partly.”
Harlan looked up.
“Don’t take responsibility for things that aren’t yours.”