Rollins knew procedure.
He knew enough law to construct language around what he had done.
He simply believed his instincts deserved more authority than facts.
I said, “Did you know the race of the homeowner when you approached?”
His eyes hardened.
“There it is.”
“You're making this racial.”
“I asked a factual question.”
“I didn't know who owned the house.”
“Exactly.”
He looked at Carter.
“I'm done.”
I reached into the pocket of my sweatshirt.
Rollins reacted immediately.
“Hands where I can see them.”
Everyone froze.
I slowly removed nothing.
Because there was nothing in the pocket.
I had put my hand there deliberately.
Carter understood first.
Miller second.
Rollins last.
I placed my empty hand on the table.
“You still perceive me as a threat.”
Rollins's mouth tightened.
“Anyone reaching suddenly—”
“I moved at half walking speed while seated in a locked police interview room with three armed officers present.”
“You don't get to test me.”
“No. Citizens do that every day without knowing it.”
The words landed.
Rollins stared at me.
I leaned back.
“Now I'll answer your question.”
Carter looked toward me.
I saw concern there.
Not for me.
For what would happen next.
“My occupation is Director of the Federal Bureau of Investigation.”
Rollins did not react at first.
Not visibly.
His face simply lost expression.
Miller looked at me, then at Carter.
Carter gave a slight nod.
Rollins laughed once.
A short sound.
“You expect me to believe that?”
I turned to Carter.
“Lieutenant?”
Carter's voice was quiet.
“He is.”
Rollins stared at him.
Carter continued.
“Director Pendleton spoke at the regional task force conference last January. I've met him.”
Miller whispered something under his breath.
Rollins remained still.
Then he turned back toward me.
“You should have said something.”
Not I'm sorry.
Not I was wrong.
You should have said something.
I let several seconds pass.
“I told you my name.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I told you where my identification was.”
“You could've told me your position.”
“I told you where I worked.”
“Not at the house.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to know how far you would go before the person in front of you became important enough to deserve procedure.”
His face reddened.
“This is entrapment.”
“You set me up.”
“I walked to my mailbox.”
“You could have stopped this.”
“And you didn't.”
“Because the authority you exercised over me is the same authority you exercise over people who cannot stop it by naming a title.”
Rollins pushed his chair back.
Carter stood immediately.
“Stay seated.”
“This is insane.”
Miller said, “Derek.”
“No. He let us bring him here so he could make a point.”
I shook my head.
“I let you reveal one.”
Rollins looked toward the camera in the corner.
For the first time all morning, he seemed to remember that records existed.
Body cameras.
Dispatch.
Station video.
Database timestamps.
I watched calculation replace outrage.
Then something else appeared.
Fear.
Not panic.