"Your house has been condemned, Frank," Marcus said calmly. "And as of nine o'clock this morning, you are no longer the interim chief. You are the subject of an open criminal inquiry."
Chapter 3: THE VAULT ON LEVEL TWO
Henderson looked down at the document. His thick hand twitched, hovering over the paper as if touching it would seal his fate. When he finally looked up, his face was flushed a dark, mottled red.
"You can't walk in here on day one and drop paper on a thirty-year veteran based on an administrative screw-up," Henderson said, his voice dropping into a low, gravelly register. "The union rep will have this injunction dead by lunch. The mayor himself assured me—"Advertisement
"The mayor handed your entire personnel jacket over to the Special Investigations Division at midnight, Frank," Marcus interrupted, not raising his voice by an octave. "The city council voted unanimously in closed session yesterday evening. You don't have a political umbrella anymore. You just have your badge, and right now, that badge is hanging by an exceptionally thin thread."
Henderson looked past Marcus toward Caldwell. The sergeant hadn't moved from the wall, his jaw set in a hard, sullen line, his boots rooted to the linoleum. But there was no rescue coming from the corner.
"What do you want, Reed?" Henderson asked, his tone shifting from defensive bravado to cornered hostility.
"I want the logbook for Holding Cell Three," Marcus said. "I want the arrest warrant and arresting officer's narrative for Darius Cole, booked forty-eight hours ago. And I want the master keys to the secondary evidence storage room on Level Two."
A flicker of genuine panic flashed across Henderson's eyes. It was gone in less than a second, replaced by a mask of bureaucratic indifference, but Marcus caught it. Internal affairs investigators lived on that split-second hitch in a man's breathing.Advertisement
"Level Two is an active storage locker for ongoing county-assisted narcotics operations," Henderson said, crossing his arms again to hide his hands. "It requires dual authorization. Mine and Captain Alvarez from the task force."
"Captain Alvarez retired three weeks ago," Marcus said. "The keys, Frank."
Henderson stared at Marcus for five long seconds. Then he reached to his belt, unhooked a heavy brass ring containing four notched keys, and dropped them onto the conference table with a sharp clatter.
Marcus picked them up and slid them into his pocket. He turned to Caldwell. "Sergeant, you are suspended from active duty pending an expedited internal review. You will surrender your department vehicle keys to Officer Nichols at the front desk. You will not access the locker room. You will not enter the records room. You will leave this building immediately through the side exit."
Caldwell’s eyes burned. He stepped toward the table, his fists balled tight. "You're making a mistake, Chief. A very bad mistake. You don't know who you're dealing with in this town."
Marcus stepped around the table until he was standing toe-to-toe with Caldwell. He didn't drop his hands to his belt. He didn't adopt a fighter's stance. He simply looked straight into the sergeant's eyes with the absolute, unyielding calm of a stone wall.
"I have buried men who were twice as tough as you and ten times as smart, Sergeant," Marcus said evenly. "Get out of my precinct."Advertisement
Caldwell held Marcus's gaze for another second, then spun on his heel and slammed through the swinging doors into the hallway.
Marcus turned back to Henderson. "Where is Darius Cole?"
"Holding cell four," Henderson muttered, staring at the floor. "He was picked up on a prowler call. Matched the description."
"Release him."
Henderson's head snapped up. "What?"
"His employer confirmed his night-shift punch-out forty miles from the crime scene at the exact minute the 911 call came in. His grandmother is sitting in your lobby with the signed timecard. The arrest is unlawful. Have him processed out, personal effects returned, and bring him to the front lobby within ten minutes. If he has a single bruise that isn't documented on an initial intake form, Frank, I will charge you personally with official misconduct."Advertisement