But they suggested that the department's systems for detecting and correcting misconduct were failing.
His appointment was supposed to change that.
He glanced toward the brown leather briefcase resting on the seat beside him.
Inside were two carefully organized folders.
The first contained his initial administrative priorities.
The second contained something far more sensitive.
A collection of records supplied through authorized channels by employees who feared that evidence of departmental misconduct was being suppressed.
He had been studying those records for eleven days.
They described troubling patterns.
Body-camera interruptions immediately before certain uses of force.
Incident reports revised after supervisors reviewed complaints.
Vehicle impoundments involving the same private towing contractor.
And several cases where officers' written accounts appeared inconsistent with independent evidence.
The commissioner wasn't prepared to accuse anyone of committing a crime.
The records required authentication, context, and proper investigation.
But they demanded attention.
He looked toward the headquarters building visible through the windshield.
Then checked his watch.
10:13 a.m.
He had almost forty-seven minutes before the formal meeting.
Plenty of time to walk to the entrance, pass through security, and meet with the chief.
His driver turned toward him.
βWould you prefer I take you directly to the front doors?β
The commissioner shook his head.
βNo.β
βYou sure?β
He smiled faintly.
βI've walked farther than two blocks.β
The driver nodded.
The commissioner picked up his briefcase.
Then stepped into the afternoon sunlight.
He had no idea that someone inside headquarters was watching the entrance cameras, waiting for him to appear.
The sergeant had been assigned to the plaza shortly after nine that morning.
Under ordinary circumstances, he would have been supervising a small street operations unit near the courthouse district.
Instead, his immediate superior ordered him to report to headquarters for a temporary security assignment.
He didn't like it.
The sergeant was thirty-five years old, with close-cropped brown hair, a muscular but stocky build, and a face that seemed permanently irritated.
He had joined the department thirteen years earlier.
At first, he'd been considered energetic and confident.
He made arrests.
Volunteered for difficult assignments.
And rarely hesitated when a supervisor asked him to act.
But over time, those qualities had developed into something more troubling.
He began treating ordinary questions as challenges.
He interpreted hesitation as resistance.
And he developed a habit of escalating encounters that could have ended with a calm explanation.
Several complaints had been filed against him.