Nobody ran toward the parking garage. Nobody began shouting orders to every patrol car in the city. The federal agents understood that a senior police official leaving his workplace wasn't, by itself, evidence of a crime.
But the timing mattered.
And so did the records he might possess.
The federal agent turned toward the chief.
"Did your deputy have access to information concerning the redevelopment investigation?"
The chief stared.
"Some information."
"How much?"
"I'd need to review the access records."
She nodded.
"Then we'll need those records preserved."
The chief rubbed one hand across his forehead.
For the first time, he looked genuinely exhausted.
"Agent, I need you to understand something."
She waited.
"When the federal review began, I was told the department was being investigated because of administrative mistakes."
"Who told you that?"
"My deputy."
Her expression didn't change.
The chief continued.
"He said certain housing complaints had been mishandled. That there were disagreements between the foundation and several residents. That we needed to cooperate, correct the paperwork, and avoid unnecessary public alarm."
The federal agent listened without interrupting.
The chief swallowed.
"I thought we were dealing with poor supervision."
"And now?"
He looked toward the damaged credential fragments.
Then toward the sealed evidence case.
"Now I don't know what we're dealing with."
The agent studied his face.
"Then we should begin by establishing what actually happened."
He nodded.
But the next development arrived before anyone could continue.
The federal investigator's phone vibrated.