Walsh stopped smiling.
“You held him overnight.”
Andrew continued.
“By morning he was dead.”
Walsh moved 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.”
Walsh turned.
“I’m deputy chief.”
He pointed around the room.
“This is my station.”
Then he looked directly at Andrew.
“And until tomorrow morning at eight, you’re just another suspect in custody.”
Walsh opened the door, then stopped.
“One more thing, Mr. Harris.”
He turned back.
“Your brother’s case was tragic, but it was closed.”
Andrew said nothing.
“The medical examiner ruled natural causes complicated by pre-existing conditions.”
Walsh recited the story as though he had practiced it for years.
“There was no evidence of assault. No signs of struggle. Just a sad situation involving a person experiencing a mental-health episode and suffering cardiac arrest in custody.”
“That’s a lie.”
“That’s the official record.”
Walsh looked almost satisfied.
“Signed by the chief medical examiner. Reviewed by Internal Affairs. Approved by the district attorney’s office.”
He stepped through the doorway.
“Good luck proving otherwise.”
The door closed behind him.
Mitchell and Wilson looked at one another.
Then at Andrew.
“We need to move him before night shift arrives,” Wilson said.
But Mitchell was staring at Andrew with something new in his eyes.
Not anger.
Fear.
“What?” Wilson asked.
“He knew,” Mitchell said quietly.
Wilson frowned.
“He knew exactly what Walsh would say.”
“So?”
“So that means someone told him.”
Mitchell’s voice dropped.
“Someone inside.”
Andrew smiled.
Not warmly.
“You’re right, Officer Mitchell.”
Mitchell looked at him.
“Someone did tell me.”
Andrew paused.
“Several people, actually.”
Wilson stiffened.
“People who have been watching you for eighteen months.”
He looked toward the door.
“People very close to you.”
Wilson’s radio suddenly crackled.
“Dispatch to all units. Fire alarm activated, southeast wing. All personnel respond.”
Mitchell looked toward the ceiling.
“That’s across the building.”
“That’s a distraction,” Andrew said.
Mitchell’s eyes snapped toward him.
“You have about fifteen minutes before everything changes.”
The fire alarm began screaming through the station.
Mitchell and Wilson exchanged glances.
Protocol required a response.
Protocol also required that a detainee not be abandoned.
“Wilson, stay with him,” Mitchell ordered. “I’ll check the alarm.”
“Wait—”
But Mitchell was already gone.
The door shut.
Wilson and Andrew were alone.
Wilson reached for her radio.
Andrew spoke.
“Clara Williams is in dispatch right now copying every radio log from the last three years.”
Her hand froze.
“Tyler Brooks has his video uploaded to multiple secure locations.”
Wilson’s breathing changed.
“FBI Agent Rachel Turner is in the parking lot with DOJ attorney Richard Bennett and Mayor Anderson.”
“You’re lying.”
“Am I?”
Andrew looked at her phone.
“Check the parking-lot camera feed.”
Wilson pulled out the device with shaking hands.
She opened the security application.
Switched to the exterior cameras.