"I'm not taking over your system," Torres said. "I'm requesting preservation of footage relevant to an incident. If you prefer, we can arrange formal process through mall management and the court. In the meantime, I strongly recommend that nobody alter the files."
"They're automated. You can't hold us responsible for every technical problem."
"I haven't accused you of a technical problem."
Sloan sat down. His hands, which had been so still when he first entered the room, had begun moving restlessly across the desk. He straightened the edge of the trespass forms, checked a closed laptop, and repeatedly touched the small security access card clipped to his belt.
At 3:38, Torres was reviewing the mall's communication log with Eli when she noticed a security-system entry marked ADMIN EXPORT. The timestamp was 3:15, just after Harlan had entered the office and before Torres arrived. The account belonged to Sloan.
"What did you export?" she asked.
"Routine maintenance diagnostics."
"From the atrium archive?"
"That's where the issue was."
"What issue?"
Sloan hesitated. "There had been intermittent camera faults."
Torres wrote down the entry. "Who else has administrative access?"
"The IT contractor. Me. Two assistant directors."
"Were any of them here at 3:15?"
"Not that I know of."
He tried to smile. "Lieutenant, I can assure you that our system is reliable ninety-nine percent of the time."
"Then we should have no difficulty verifying the one percent."
For an instant, Vanessa saw the fear in Sloan's face. It was there and gone so quickly that she wondered whether she had imagined it. She had learned long ago not to mistake a nervous reaction for proof. People grew nervous for all kinds of reasons, especially when police officers asked questions in their workplaces. The system entries would matter more than the expression.
Harlan seemed to sense the same shift. He walked toward Marcus, who was waiting beside the doorway with two men from the group. "You," he said. "You knew exactly what you were doing when you brought them in here."
Marcus did not move. "We came in through the same doors everybody else uses."
"You stood there like a threat."
"I asked about Chief Cole. Then I followed her instruction to stay back."
"Don't pretend you didn't enjoy making me look foolish."
Marcus's expression changed slightly. "I didn't want you to look foolish. I wanted you to check the receipt."
That sentence appeared to strike something raw in Harlan. He stepped forward and shoved Marcus with both hands. Marcus shifted his weight but did not strike back. The men nearby reacted instinctively, straightening and turning, and Marcus extended one hand to signal that they should remain where they were.
"Marcus," Vanessa said sharply. "Don't."
"I'm good, Chief," he answered.
Harlan drew back as though preparing another shove. Torres crossed the room and placed herself between them. "Officer Harlan, stop. Step away now."
"He was blocking the door."
"He was standing beside it. You initiated physical contact with someone who wasn't threatening you."
"He provoked me."
"Being questioned doesn't give you permission to put your hands on somebody. Move to the far side of the room."