And several recurring patterns seemed to escape attention because each case was reviewed in isolation.
Marcus concluded that the city didn't simply need someone to identify bad decisions after they occurred.
It needed a structure capable of recognizing patterns early enough to prevent repetition.
He accepted the appointment.
His wife was cautious.
"Do you remember why you left prosecution?"
"Yes."
"Do you remember what you promised our daughter?"
"Yes."
Renee sat beside him on the sofa.
"I'm proud of you. But I don't want this job taking all of you."
Marcus nodded.
"I won't let it."
She smiled sadly.
"You always say that before something important takes over your life."
He kissed her hand.
"Then remind me."
His daughter had been delighted by the idea that her father was getting a new office.
She asked whether it would have a spinning chair.
Marcus told her probably.
She asked whether she could visit.
He said yes.
Then she asked the question that stayed with him.
"Does your job help people who are scared of police?"
Marcus thought carefully.
"That's one of the things we're trying to do."
She nodded.
"Then it's a good job."
He smiled.
"I hope so."
Now, sitting in the same house where he'd made that promise, Marcus wondered whether the work had reached his daughter in the worst possible way.
She had watched a police officer threaten him.
She had seen a grown man use her toy as an excuse for aggression.
And she had discovered that the badge she'd been taught to trust did not always guarantee safety.
Marcus felt the weight of that experience more heavily than he felt the pain in his shoulder.
He could investigate a police department.
He could propose reforms.
He could review patterns and procedures.
But he couldn't give his daughter back the innocence of the morning before the officer arrived.