Andrew asks. Because Officer Brooks was in the lobby during the initial encounter. He saw everything. And I suspect he documented it. Walsh's jaw tightens.
Just barely. Just enough to notice if you're watching closely. Brooks is a probationary officer. His testimony would need corroboration. It has corroboration.
The lobby cameras, the hallway cameras, the dispatch logs that Clara Williams keeps. All of it shows me entering peacefully and being immediately assaulted. Walsh pulls up a chair, sits down across from Andrew. When he speaks again, his voice has changed, softer, almost friendly. Mr.
Harris, let's be realistic. You're in a difficult position. You have injuries. You're claiming assault, but you're also claiming to be someone you're probably not. Someone told you about tomorrow's ceremony and you thought you could use that information to your advantage.
I am the new chief appointed by Mayor Anderson 6 weeks ago, confirmed by city council 2 weeks ago. My background was FBI crisis negotiation. Before that, Marine Corps Medal of Honor recipient for actions in Kandahar Province. The specificity makes Walsh hesitate. These aren't vague claims.
These are checkable facts. If that's true, why didn't anyone inform the department? Because the mayor wanted to see how the department would handle an unknown black man walking in during shift change. He wanted to see if the complaints we've been receiving for 3 years were accurate. He wanted to test the culture.
And you agreed to this test? I insisted on it because my brother died in this room 3 years ago because Brandon Harris was beaten to death by Officer Mitchell and Sergeant Wilson while Deputy Chief Walsh covered it up. because 43 families have filed similar complaints that were all buried. Because the federal government has been investigating this station since last January, and because I wanted to see for myself if anything had changed. The room goes completely silent. Walsh stands slowly.
His face is unreadable. Those are extremely serious allegations. Do you have any proof? All of it. Financial records showing your payments from Vincent Taylor.
Evidence room logs showing Sergeant Wilson's falsifications. Radio transcripts from the night my brother died. Medical examiner reports that don't match the official story. Witness statements from 43 families. Bank transfers.
Text messages, emails, every single piece of evidence that will be presented tomorrow morning at 9:00 a.m. when the federal grand jury hands down indictments. Walsh's expensive watch catches the light as his hand moves to his pocket. He pulls out his phone, stares at it for a long moment, then he looks at Mitchell and Wilson. How bad is it? Mitchell doesn't answer.
Wilson looks at the floor. Sir, Mitchell says finally, if he's telling the truth, he's not. But if he is, then we have a problem. Walsh puts his phone away, but we still have time to manage it. The ceremony isn't until tomorrow morning.
We have all night to control the narrative. Andrew's voice cuts through. You're planning to disappear me. I'm planning to follow proper procedure. Transfer you to county lockup for processing.
Standard protocol for arrests after business hours. Except you'll lose the paperwork. Hold me for 48 hours without arraignment. Long enough for the ceremony to happen without me. Long enough to create doubt about my identity.
Walsh almost smiles. You're very perceptive, Mr. Harris. If that's your real name. It's exactly what you did to Brandon.
Held him overnight. By morning, he was dead. Medical emergency, the report said. Except the autopsy showed Blunt force trauma to 17 different locations on his body. Walsh moves toward the door.
Mitchell Wilson, process him. Transfer to county by 2200 hours. I'll handle the mayor's office. You can't. I can.
I'm deputy chief. This is my station. And until tomorrow morning at 8:00 a.m., you're just another suspect in custody. Walsh opens the door, stops, turns back. One more thing, Mr.
Harris, your brother's case was tragic, but it was also closed. The medical examiner ruled natural causes complicated by pre-existing conditions. There was no evidence of assault, no signs of struggle, just a sad situation where someone having a mental health episode experienced cardiac arrest in custody. That's a lie. That's the official record signed by the chief medical examiner, reviewed by internal affairs, approved by the district attorney's office.
Good luck proving otherwise. Walsh leaves. The door closes behind him. Mitchell and Wilson look at each other, then at Andrew. We need to move him before night shift arrives, Wilson says.
But Mitchell is staring at Andrew with something new in his eyes. Not anger anymore. Fear. What? Wilson asks.
He knew, Mitchell says quietly. He knew exactly what Walsh would say. He knew about the transfer plan. He knew everything. So what?
So that means someone told him, someone inside. Someone who knows how we operate. Andrew smiles. It's not a friendly expression. You're right, Officer Mitchell.
Someone did tell me. Several someone's actually. People who've been watching you for 18 months. People who are very close. Closer than you think.
Wilson's radio crackles. A voice cuts through. Dispatch to all units. Fire alarm activated. Southeast wing.
All personnel respond. Mitchell's eyes narrow. That's across the building. That's a distraction, Andrew finishes. You have about 15 minutes before everything changes.
The fire alarm screams through the building. Mitchell and Wilson exchange glances. Protocol says they have to respond. Protocol says they can't leave a detainee unattended. Wilson, stay with him, Mitchell orders.
I'll check the alarm. Wait, Wilson says, but Mitchell is already gone. The door closes. Wilson and Andrew are alone. Wilson's hand goes to her radio.
She's about to call for backup when Andrew speaks. Clara Williams is in dispatch right now, pulling every radio log from the past 3 years. Tyler Brooks has 17 minutes of video uploaded to three different cloud servers. FBI agent Rachel Turner is in the parking lot with DOJ attorney Richard Bennett and Mayor Anderson. They're waiting for my signal.
Wilson's hand freezes. You're lying. Am I? Check your phone. Look at the parking lot camera feed.