Marcus arranged for a formal, recorded statement to be taken by an investigator independent of Voss. Torres spoke for nearly half an hour, remembering the street corner, the exact words, the truck's condition, and the sense of helplessness that followed him into work. When he finished, he looked exhausted. He asked whether the department would really listen this time.
"We're going to examine what you told us alongside the records and whatever other evidence we can lawfully obtain," Marcus said. "I won't ask you to trust us because I have a captain's badge. I'll ask you to judge us by what we do with your statement." Torres held the folded cap in both hands and nodded slowly.
After the man left, Marcus spread three files across his desk: the stop that morning, Harold Jennings, and Robert Torres. There were different streets, different years, different motorists, and different alleged traffic violations. The same officer appeared in every file, offering a cash payment as the easy choice. When the driver refused, the consequences became expensive and difficult to challenge.
The repetition did not prove every detail by itself, but it demanded an answer. Marcus stared at the signatures on the tow forms and the typed findings on the dismissed complaints. He had arrived expecting to learn the names of his new officers and the condition of the building. Instead, he was beginning to understand how much damage a department could do when its machinery became a place to hide misconduct rather than correct it.
The basement evidence review room smelled of paper, dust, and the dry warmth of computers that had been running too long. Metal shelves lined the walls, carrying numbered boxes of incident reports, evidence envelopes, and records waiting for lawful disposal. A fluorescent tube flickered above the far table. Marcus entered with Detective Kim and a records specialist who had been assigned to help them review the tow authorizations.
The specialist's name was Alicia Benton, a civilian employee from municipal compliance. She had worked for the city for seventeen years and had the patient skepticism of someone who checked every invoice before approving a payment. Benton carried a tablet, a notebook, and a thick folder of contract documents. She looked around the room and asked, "Where do you want to start?"
"With every police-authorized tow involving Officer Reigns over the past eighteen months," Marcus answered. "Then compare the reason for each tow against the incident report, the vehicle inspection record, and any complaint that followed." Kim reminded him that investigators would decide the scope of the criminal inquiry and that records obtained for discipline would be handled separately when required. Marcus agreed. He wanted the truth to survive scrutiny, not merely sound persuasive at a press conference.
For the next hour, the table filled with paperwork. Each report had a date, a location, a vehicle description, and a reason for impoundment. On the surface the reasons varied: unsafe tires, defective lights, expired documents, obstruction of a traffic investigation. Underneath, a pattern emerged so gradually that Marcus initially wondered whether he was seeing it because he expected to.