Address matched.
Name matched.
Vehicle identification matched.
He closed the holder.
Then looked toward his officer.
“You confirmed none of this?”
The officer's jaw tightened.
“He refused identification.”
The investigator corrected:
“You asked me for registration and told me not to reach for it.”
The officer pointed.
“You said your wallet was inside.”
“Yes.”
“You expected me to let you walk into a residence during a detention?”
“No.”
“I expected you to ask who owned the residence.”
The sergeant rubbed one hand across his mouth.
Then noticed the investigator's phone sitting on the hood.
“What happened to that?”
The investigator answered:
“He took it from the fender and threw it there.”
The officer said:
“I secured potential evidence.”
The investigator looked at the phone.
“By throwing it?”
“I put it there.”
The neighbor across the street shouted:
“He threw it!”
Everyone turned.
The woman still held her phone.
The officer pointed.
“Ma'am, stay out of this.”
The sergeant immediately said:
“No.”
The officer looked at him.
The sergeant continued:
“She may be a witness.”
That sentence changed something.
The officer stopped acting like the scene still belonged to him.
The sergeant looked toward the woman.
“Please keep whatever you recorded.”
“I am.”
“Don't edit it.”
“I won't.”
The investigator nodded once.
Good.
Then he looked toward the officer's body camera again.
The sergeant followed his gaze.
His expression changed.
“Camera.”
The officer touched it reflexively.
“Battery problem.”
The investigator said:
“Interesting timing.”
The officer snapped:
“You don't know anything about it.”
The investigator looked toward him.
“You're right.”
Then added:
“That’s why I'd preserve the device before somebody decides the battery suddenly works.”
The sergeant's eyes sharpened.
The officer looked toward him.
“You're taking his side?”
The sergeant answered:
“I'm taking the side where nobody touches anything until this gets sorted out.”
The officer laughed bitterly.
“This is unbelievable.”
The investigator looked down at the scattered sockets.
“It gets stranger.”
The sergeant asked:
“How?”
The investigator nodded toward the radio.
“Dispatch said the complaint came from his personal phone.”
The sergeant's face changed.
The officer interrupted:
“That's not established.”
The sergeant looked toward him.
“Give me your phone.”
The officer froze.
“What?”
“Your phone.”
“No.”
The answer came too quickly.
The investigator noticed.
The sergeant noticed too.
“Why?”
“Personal device.”
The sergeant's voice became colder.
“You want to make a privacy argument after allegedly originating a false service call from it?”
“I said allegedly.”
The investigator stepped backward.
He wanted room.
Physical and evidentiary.
The officer looked toward him.
For one second the investigator saw something beneath anger.
Calculation.
Not panic.
Not embarrassment.
Calculation.
The officer was already trying to decide what could still be explained.