“Director Holloway.”
His voice had changed entirely.
“I had no idea.”
Cynthia looked at him.
“That is the problem.”
Miller swallowed.
“If I had known—”
She interrupted.
“If you had known who I was, none of this would have happened.”
He stopped.
Cynthia continued.
“But Officer O’Grady believed I was an ordinary woman from out of town.”
“He believed I had no institutional power.”
“No political connections.”
“No federal security team.”
“No vehicle capable of documenting him.”
“He believed his report would matter more than my denial.”
O’Grady said:
“This was one mistake.”
Cynthia looked at him.
“One mistake?”
His eyes darted toward the door.
Cynthia continued.
“You invented the reason for a traffic stop.”
“You conducted an unlawful search.”
“You introduced narcotics into a vehicle.”
“You falsely represented where you found them.”
“You disabled your body camera.”
“You falsified an official report.”
“You attempted to initiate a prosecution against an innocent person.”
“That is not one mistake.”
O’Grady’s voice cracked.
“You don’t understand the pressure in this precinct.”
Cynthia’s expression changed.
There it was.
The defense.
Pressure.
Quotas that officially did not exist.
Promotions.
Clearance statistics.
Captain expectations.
Cynthia looked at Miller.
“What pressure?”
Miller shook his head.
“Director, I want to be very clear.”
“We do not have arrest quotas.”
O’Grady laughed again.
“Not on paper.”
Miller turned.
“Stop talking.”
Cynthia said:
“No.”
Everyone looked at her.
“Let him talk.”
O’Grady stared at the floor.
Cynthia waited.
He finally said:
“Miller wanted narcotics numbers up.”
Miller’s face reddened.
“I wanted lawful enforcement.”
“You wanted headlines.”
“Enough.”
“You said the district looked weak.”
“I never told you to manufacture cases.”
Cynthia listened.
Then to Doyle:
“How many times has Officer O’Grady found narcotics during vehicle searches in the last year?”
Doyle looked terrified.
“I don’t know.”
“Approximately.”
“Maybe…”
He swallowed.
“Twenty?”
Miller looked at him.
Cynthia asked:
“Complaints?”
Doyle stared.
“People always complain.”
“That wasn’t my question.”
“Yes.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
Captain Miller said:
“Director, I can have internal affairs pull everything.”
Cynthia looked at him.
“You will preserve everything.”
“Federal investigators will review it.”
Miller stiffened.
“This is still my precinct.”
Carter answered:
“Not for purposes of this evidence.”
The next hour happened with far less drama than O’Grady had imagined his own arrests should contain.
Federal agents did not storm the building with weapons raised at every local officer.
Instead, warrants and preservation orders were executed carefully.