Chapter 2 - Four Minutes Before ArrivalLieutenant Paul Mercer was not in the building.
At least that was what Sergeant Miller insisted.
“He went home at eleven.”
Levi stood beside the booking desk with an ice pack against his eyebrow while the rain rattled the precinct windows.
“Then why was his account used at two twenty-four?”
Miller looked toward Jenkins.
Jenkins had stopped trying to explain.
Carter stood against the wall, pale and silent.
Miller lowered his voice.
“I don’t know.”
Levi removed the ice pack.
“Don’t answer quickly, Sergeant. Answer accurately.”
Miller stiffened.
Levi knew the reaction. He had spent years interviewing officers, suspects, witnesses and supervisors.
The body changed before the mouth did.
Miller was afraid.
Not surprised.
Afraid.
Levi turned to Jenkins.
“Where’s your body camera?”
Jenkins touched his chest.
The camera was there.
“Had a malfunction.”
Levi looked at Carter.
“And yours?”
Carter answered immediately.
“Mine was active.”
Jenkins snapped his head toward him.
Carter’s jaw tightened.
“At least I thought it was.”
Levi held out his hand.
“Remove it.”
Carter did.
Jenkins stepped forward.
“Captain, department policy says—”
“I know department policy.”
Levi’s voice remained quiet.
That made Jenkins retreat.
Levi placed Carter’s body camera on the desk.
“Sergeant Miller, nobody touches this without a property receipt.”
Miller nodded.
“Understood.”
“And Jenkins’s camera.”
“It wasn’t recording.”
“That wasn’t what I said.”
Miller collected both devices.
Levi glanced again at the false report.
“You said Mercer left at eleven.”
“Yes.”
“Call him.”
Miller hesitated.
“Now.”
Three rings.
Four.
Mercer answered sleepily.
“Miller?”
“Lieutenant, sorry to wake you. We have a situation.”
“What situation?”
Miller looked at Levi.
Levi motioned for speakerphone.
Miller complied.
“Captain Harrison was brought in.”
A long silence.
Then Mercer said, “What?”
“Jenkins arrested him.”
Another silence.
Different this time.
Not confusion.
Calculation.
“Is Jenkins there?”
“Yes.”
“Put him on.”
Levi shook his head.
Miller said, “Captain Harrison is asking about your login.”
Mercer stopped speaking.
Levi moved closer.
“Lieutenant Mercer, this is Captain Harrison.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Did you access the arrest reporting system after midnight?”
“No.”
“Did you give anyone your credentials?”
“Absolutely not.”
Levi watched Jenkins.
Jenkins stared at the floor.
“Then someone impersonated you.”
“That would be my assumption.”
“Be here at six.”
“Yes, sir.”
Levi reached for the phone.
Before Miller could disconnect, Mercer added something.
“Captain?”
Levi paused.
“Yes?”
“I heard you were taking command tomorrow.”
“I am.”
“Then you should know something before you start tearing into people at two in the morning.”
Levi’s expression hardened.
“Go ahead.”
“The 42nd has its own history.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means people who come here trying to fix everything usually learn why things were done the way they were.”
The line went dead.
Miller looked sick.
Levi placed the phone down.
“What history?”
Miller said nothing.
“Sergeant.”
“There have been complaints.”
“How many?”
“I don’t know.”
“Against Jenkins?”
Miller looked at him.
That was answer enough.
Levi stepped away from the desk.
His shoulders hurt. His wrists were swelling.
He wanted a shower.
He wanted sleep.
Instead, he asked for a computer.
At 3:01 a.m., Levi searched the internal complaint database.
Officer Bradley Jenkins.
Six years at the 42nd.
Seventeen citizen complaints.
Four allegations of unnecessary force.
Five claims of false arrest.
Three alleged racial slurs.
Every complaint closed.
No sustained findings.
Levi stared at the screen.
Then he searched Mercer.
Most supervisors accumulated some complaints.
Mercer had surprisingly few.
But his name appeared elsewhere.
He had reviewed eleven of Jenkins’s seventeen cases.
Levi clicked the oldest.
The file returned an error.
ARCHIVED RECORD UNAVAILABLE.
He tried another.
Unavailable.
Another.
Unavailable.
Miller spoke behind him.
“That system’s old.”
Levi turned.
“Why are only Jenkins’s early complaints missing?”
Miller’s eyes dropped.
Levi stood.
“What aren’t you telling me?”
Miller’s voice became almost a whisper.
“There was another man.”
“What man?”
“Years ago.”
Levi waited.
Miller rubbed both hands across his face.
“A Black man. Traffic stop. He said Jenkins and another officer beat him and invented an assault charge.”
Levi’s stomach tightened.
“What was his name?”
Miller looked at him.
The rain outside suddenly sounded louder.
“Terrence Harrison.”
For several seconds, Levi could not speak.
Terrence.
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His younger brother.
The brother Levi had not spoken to in eleven years.
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