Then another.
All involved complaints against Sergeant Cross.
Elena's expression remained calm.
But her eyes hardened.
"Why are these here?"
Mason shook his head.
"I don't know."
"Who put them here?"
"I don't know."
"Who has access?"
"Records staff. Command staff."
"Sergeant Cross?"
Mason hesitated.
"Yes."
Elena pulled out a folder.
The complaint was dated seven months earlier.
The complainant claimed Cross had pushed her against a vehicle.
Another claimed he had threatened her.
A third alleged that he had altered the circumstances of a traffic stop.
None of those complaints appeared in the department's official database.
Elena photographed each file.
Then she found something unexpected.
A handwritten note.
It said:
Ask why the Mercer Street camera disappeared.
Elena stared at it.
"Who wrote this?"
Mason shook his head.
"I've never seen it before."
A noise echoed behind them.
Both turned.
Footsteps.
Someone was coming down the stairs.
Mason whispered:
"Sergeant Cross."
Elena closed the folder.
Cross appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
He looked at Mason.
Then at Elena.
Then at the open container.
"What are you doing down here?"
Elena stood.
"Reviewing archived records."
Cross smiled.
"Without authorization?"
"I have authorization."
"From whom?"
"The state."
Cross stepped closer.
"You should be careful with old files."
"Why?"
"Some contain confidential information."
"So do current files."
Cross's smile disappeared.
"You're making people nervous."
"That isn't my intention."
"Then what is?"
Elena looked directly at him.
"Accuracy."
Cross stared at her.
For several seconds, neither moved.
Then Cross said:
"You don't know this department."
"No."
"You don't know these officers."
"Not yet."
"And you certainly don't know me."
Elena closed the folder.
"That's why I'm auditing the department."
Cross walked away.
Mason waited until he was gone.
Then he whispered:
"He knows."
Elena nodded.
"Yes."
"Knows what?"
She looked toward the staircase.
"That someone has already talked."
The following morning, Elena visited Mercer Street.
It was an ordinary neighborhood.
Small businesses lined the road.
A grocery store stood beside a laundromat.
Across the street was a coffee shop.
Six months earlier, this had been the location of the incident that first brought Sergeant Cross to Elena's attention.
She stood near the curb.
A shop owner watched her through the window.
Elena entered.
"Excuse me," she said. "I'm investigating an incident involving the police."
The owner looked nervous.
"Which one?"
"Six months ago. A woman and Sergeant Cross."
The man's expression changed.
"I don't want trouble."
"I'm not here to cause trouble."
He looked toward the door.
Then lowered his voice.
"I saw it."
"What did you see?"
"Cross stopped her."
"Why?"
"I don't know."
"Was she resisting?"
"No."
"Did she attack him?"
"No."
Elena waited.
The owner sighed.
"He got angry."
"What happened?"
"He grabbed her."
"How?"
"By the arm."
"Then?"
"He pushed her toward the gutter."
Elena's eyes narrowed.
"Did she fall?"
"Yes."
"Did anyone help?"
"People started coming out."
"And Cross?"
"He told everyone to stay back."
"Was there a camera?"
The owner looked away.
"Across the street."
"The city camera?"
"Yes."
"Where is the footage?"
"It disappeared."
"When?"
"Two days after the incident."
"Who requested it?"
The owner hesitated.
"I don't know."
Elena thanked him.
As she stepped outside, she noticed a small blue camera mounted above the entrance of the grocery store.
She walked across the street.
The grocery owner recognized her.
"You were here yesterday."
"Yes."
"Looking for the camera?"
Elena looked up.
"Did you record the incident?"
The man nodded.
"I did."
Her heart beat faster.
"Do you still have it?"
"I kept everything."
"Can I see it?"
He looked at her.
"Why?"
"Because I believe the official account may be incomplete."
He disappeared into the back room.
Five minutes later, he returned with an old hard drive.
"I never gave this to the police."
"Why?"
"Because Sergeant Cross told me I would regret it."
Elena took a breath.
"Would you be willing to provide it officially?"
The man looked toward the street.
Then nodded.
"Yes."
Elena smiled.
"Thank you."
She didn't know that at that exact moment, across the road, a patrol car had stopped.
Inside sat Sergeant Daniel Cross.
He was watching them.
And this time, he wasn't smiling
The footage was grainy.
The camera covered the sidewalk and part of the street.
At first, nothing seemed unusual.
Cars passed.
People walked.
Rain fell.
Then the timestamp reached 4:13 p.m.
A woman appeared.
She was carrying a folder.
She walked toward a parked car.
Cross's patrol vehicle entered the frame.
He got out.
The woman spoke.
Cross approached.
They argued.
Then came the moment.
Cross grabbed her arm.
She pulled away.
He pushed her.
She fell into the gutter.
Elena watched without blinking.
But the footage contained something the official report did not.
The woman had been trying to show Cross an identification card.
Cross had knocked it from her hand.
Elena paused the video.
Zoomed in.
The card was visible for less than a second.
She couldn't read it.
She replayed the moment.
There.
A seal.
A photograph.
And a name.
She froze.
"That's impossible."
The store owner looked at her.
"What?"
Elena rewound the footage.