“Recorded radio traffic then stopped.”
“Why?”
“Mitchell moved communication to a channel that wasn’t recorded.”
Clara produced another file.
“But we have witness statements from Officers Ramirez and Johnson.”
She looked around the room.
“Both stated Brandon was calm when they left him with Mitchell and Wilson.”
Bennett opened another document.
“The medical examiner’s findings documented extensive injuries inconsistent with a simple medical event.”
He kept the details clinical.
“Multiple blunt-force injuries.”
“Broken ribs.”
“Serious internal trauma.”
He looked toward the far end of the table.
“The official explanation claimed those injuries occurred during a fall and struggle.”
No one answered.
“Compare that,” Bennett said, “to what happened to Andrew Harris today.”
The screen returned to Andrew being injured in IR3.
“Same room.”
“Same officer.”
“Same sergeant.”
“Same pattern of escalation.”
Walsh’s attorney stood.
“You cannot establish that my client knew anything about—”
“Evidence layer three,” Turner interrupted.
She nodded to Bennett.
A new spreadsheet appeared.
Bank statements.
Transfers.
Dates.
“Deputy Chief Raymond Walsh.”
Bennett read the salary figure.
Then another number.
“Yet during the last three years, approximately $340,000 entered accounts connected to him outside normal compensation.”
The screen filled with highlighted transactions.
“Payments came through multiple shell companies associated with Vincent Taylor.”
Turner looked around the room.
“Vincent Taylor is currently serving a federal sentence for drug trafficking.”
Bennett clicked to the next file.
“Payments arrived on a regular schedule.”
“During the same period, evidence disappeared from this station.”
“Cases were compromised.”
“Complaints vanished.”
He looked toward Wilson.
“Sergeant Wilson supervised evidence-room activity during much of that period.”
Her signature appeared on the screen.
“Her signature appears repeatedly on altered logs.”
Turner folded her arms.
“We identified dozens of cases where evidence was lost, falsified, or destroyed.”
She paused.
“Including the Brandon Harris case.”
Bennett displayed the inventory.
“Original photographs documenting Brandon’s injuries were missing.”
“Responding officers’ initial statements disappeared.”
“The mental-health assessment disappeared.”
He clicked again.
“What remained was a sanitized file supporting a narrative that Brandon became violent and died from a medical event.”
Walsh stared at the table.
“Signed by command.”
“Approved by Internal Affairs.”
“Case closed.”
Mitchell spoke for the first time in almost twenty minutes.
His voice barely carried.
“I didn’t mean for him to die.”
His lawyer grabbed his arm.
“Don’t say anything.”
Mitchell ignored him.
“He wouldn’t stop talking.”
The room became completely silent.
“He kept crying.”
Mitchell stared at the table.
“He kept saying he was scared.”
His lawyer whispered again.
“Craig.”
Mitchell’s face broke.
“I just wanted him to be quiet.”
Andrew looked at him.
“You killed my brother.”
His voice was steady.
But nobody missed the pain beneath it.
“He called you for help.”
Andrew’s hands tightened.
“And then you made him disappear on paper.”
Mitchell covered his face.