"What's his name?"
"David Williams."
Marcus remembered the file. A father who had refused five hundred dollars, lost his work van for three days, and spent years angry at a department that told him there was no evidence.
"How is he?"
"Still mad."
Marcus smiled faintly. "He's allowed."
"He told me not to become a cop after what happened."
"And you did anyway."
"Yeah."
"Why?"
The sergeant thought before answering.
"Because he also told me the captain who reopened the case didn't ask him to trust police again. He asked him to judge what they did next."
Marcus remembered saying something similar but not the exact words.
"Your father has a good memory."
"He has a long memory."
"That's usually healthier."
That afternoon, Marcus received notice that the final civil case arising from the towing scheme had settled. With that agreement, the city closed the last active lawsuit directly tied to Reigns and Voss. The total cost to Westbridge over five years was substantial: restitution, legal fees, contract penalties, technology upgrades, outside audits, training, and insurance increases. Newspapers occasionally reduced the figure to a single number and asked whether reform had been worth the expense. Marcus rejected the premise.
The misconduct had created the cost. Accountability merely put the bill where the public could see it. That evening, Marcus drove to Harold Jennings's house. Jennings had turned seventy-eight and had stopped driving regularly, not because of Westbridge but because his eyesight had worsened. The Honda Civic sat under a carport, clean, waxed, and driven mostly by his granddaughter.
Harold came outside carrying two cups of coffee.
"You're late," he said.
"I'm six minutes early."
"At my age, that's late."
They sat on the porch. Marcus had visited only a few times over the years. He was careful not to turn Jennings into a mascot for the department's reform story. Their relationship existed because the old man had a habit of calling whenever he read a policy change in the newspaper and thought Marcus was getting too comfortable. That evening, Jennings handed him a folded clipping.
It was the article about Westbridge's annual accountability report.
"Complaint numbers are down," Jennings said.