By nine, five other motorists had contacted the department or the city's independent complaint line. Their stories varied in detail and in the sums allegedly demanded. Some described requests for twenty or fifty dollars; others remembered a hundred or more. But every account included pressure to settle the matter in cash, uncertainty about the validity of the violation, and consequences that became more expensive when the driver refused.
Kim arranged interviews without telling the callers what earlier witnesses had said. Independent memory mattered. She asked them to describe events in their own words and collected receipts, messages, photographs, and whatever contemporaneous notes they possessed. Several accounts included details not present in the public news about Jennings, giving investigators reason to examine them carefully.
The camera technician assigned to help was Marisol Rodriguez, who had spent three years managing digital evidence. She pulled up maintenance logs and frowned. "Captain, the equipment-failure record for Reigns is extraordinary," she said. "There are thirty-seven traffic encounters in six months where his recording stopped or wasn't available during the critical portion. No other officer has more than three recorded failures during the same period."
"Could the camera genuinely have been defective?" Marcus asked. Rodriguez nodded.
"It could have been. But then I would expect maintenance requests, replacement tests, or documented reports explaining what happened. There aren't nearly enough of those. And the footage often resumes after the roadside interaction is over."
Kim requested that the devices and digital systems be examined by trained forensic personnel rather than drawing conclusions from the pattern alone. The department's video controls were complicated enough that accidental failures could not be ruled out without testing. Still, the technician's report added an important question: if Reigns really had experienced thirty-seven camera failures, why had his supervisors allowed him to continue operating with the same equipment? The answer would matter regardless of whether the failures were deliberate.
Marcus assembled the updated evidence packet for Internal Affairs and the county public-corruption team. It included the authenticated recording, citizen statements, the complaint history, camera logs, tow authorizations, and municipal vendor disclosures. Each item was identified by its source and limitations. He preferred a file that admitted what investigators did not yet know to one that pretended every suspicion had already become proof.
He was walking toward Internal Affairs when Lieutenant Hayes intercepted him in the hallway. Hayes had supported the temporary equipment rules and appeared uneasy. "Captain, Deputy Chief Morrison wants you in conference room B immediately," he said. "There's been an allegation about the way the complaint records were accessed."
Marcus stopped. "What allegation?" Hayes glanced toward the occupied operations floor. "I think you should hear it directly from him. Detective Kim is there, too."
The conference room blinds were partly drawn. Morrison sat at the table beside Kim, a laptop open between them, and a representative from the city's human resources office waited with a folder in her lap. The atmosphere was formal enough that Marcus understood before anyone spoke: the inquiry had turned toward him. He set his briefcase beside the chair and remained standing.