The paramedic who examined Marcus introduced herself as Hannah Liu. She checked his pulse, asked him to move his fingers and looked carefully at the marks around his wrists before recommending further evaluation for his shoulder. Marcus answered each question and accepted the recommendation, though he disliked leaving his family in a yard full of people who were now speaking in lowered voices. Hannah took one look at the overturned plates and said, not as a judgment but as an observation, "This happened at a birthday party?"
"Yes," Marcus said. "While I was cooking." The simplicity of the answer seemed to disturb her more than a longer account would have. She asked whether he felt dizzy or had difficulty breathing, and he shook his head. His injuries appeared limited, but Hannah made clear that only a proper examination could establish their extent.
At the gate, a black SUV arrived without emergency lights. Captain Everett Sloane stepped out wearing civilian clothes and an expression of studied concern. He was fifty-one, with neatly combed hair and a reputation for being close to every influential committee in Glenhaven. His Community Response Detail had been established eighteen months earlier with promises of quick intervention for persistent neighborhood complaints, and he had personally selected Gavin Rourke to lead it.
Sloane looked first at Karen, then at Rourke, then at the mayor standing beside an ambulance. His expression changed only slightly, but Marcus saw it. The captain knew the family, knew the neighborhood and knew the city appointment; Marcus had discussed an overdue response-data audit with him just three days earlier. Seeing Sloane appear at a backyard birthday party without any obvious surprise made Marcus uneasy in a way Rourke's bluster had not.
"Mr. Mayor," Sloane said, stepping through the broken gate. "I just heard about the situation. I apologize for any inconvenience."
He offered a hand, and Marcus looked at it for a moment before accepting a brief handshake. "Captain," Marcus said, "what I want from your department is not an apology for inconvenience. I want an accurate account of why six officers entered a private yard without asking questions, used force, and threatened the family."
Sloane's smile thinned. "We'll review the circumstances," he said. "I can assure you there was no intent to disrespect your position."
Marcus felt the old anger stir again. "You keep coming back to my position," he replied. "Everyone here was entitled to be treated decently before you knew who I was. My position is the least important thing about what happened."
Rourke spoke before Sloane could answer. "The subject was noncompliant, Captain. I gave multiple directions and he refused to follow them." Marcus looked at his hands, then at the man who had ordered two officers to drive him into the table. "I asked for an explanation," he said. "If that is the part you are calling noncompliance, put it in your report exactly that way."
Harmon stood near the gate listening. For a moment his eyes met Marcus's, and the young officer seemed about to speak, but Rourke pointed toward the patrol cars again. "All of you, clear out," he ordered. "We'll finish the paperwork at the station." He did not say goodbye to the family or look at the elderly woman he had frightened, and he did not offer to repair the gate his men had broken.