“No.”
The boy’s voice cracked.
“I watched them put your face on a desk.”
“I watched people online say you deserved it.”
“Now they come here?”
Marcus stared.
His son’s anger mirrored his own.
That frightened him.
Marcus placed the brush down.
“Come here.”
Isaiah resisted.
Then stepped closer.
Marcus put both hands on his shoulders.
“Listen to me.”
“They want us angry enough to become what they already decided we are.”
Isaiah looked away.
“That sounds like a speech.”
“It is.”
“It’s annoying.”
“Yes.”
His son looked back.
“What are we supposed to do?”
Marcus looked at the garage.
“Call the police.”
Isaiah laughed in disbelief.
“Seriously?”
“Yes.”
“Your police?”
“Yes.”
“That’s insane.”
Marcus smiled slightly.
“No.”
“That’s the point.”
Two Riverside patrol officers arrived.
One Black.
One white.
Both young.
They photographed the vandalism.
Took a report.
Canvas neighbors.
Marcus stayed out of their way.
The white officer looked nervous taking a statement from his own chief.
Marcus deliberately treated him like any officer doing his job.
Because reform could not mean distrust forever.
Someone had to model the future before it existed.
The investigation into Deputy Chief Vance tightened.
Financial records showed something unexpected.
No large bribes.
No secret mansion.
No offshore account.
That almost made the corruption harder to understand.
Vance had received smaller benefits.
Paid conference travel from a vendor.
Discounted work on his house from a contractor seeking police towing contracts.
Campaign donations routed toward city council candidates supportive of police budgets.
Favors.
Tickets.
Access.
But nothing that explained years of hidden brutality complaints.
Then Alvarez found the true motive.
Protection.
Vance had built power by protecting officers.
An officer had a bad shooting?
Vance found procedural language.
A detective lost evidence?
Vance found another explanation.
Supervisor assaulted a civilian?
Vance made the complaint vanish.
In return, officers became loyal.
Not to the law.
To him.
That loyalty helped him control promotions.
Assignments.
Overtime.
Union politics.
City council relationships.
He had built a department inside the department.
Caldwell was one soldier.
Rourke another.
Marcus understood finally.
This was not corruption primarily for money.
It was corruption for control.
The most addictive currency institutions ever invented.
The arrest came on a Thursday morning.
Not Vance.
Not yet.
Lieutenant Paul Rourke.
Professional Standards.
Investigators discovered he had accessed the basement complaint room two nights after Marcus’s arrival.
Security logs showed his card.
Lobby video showed him entering the building at 2:14 a.m.
Records-room cameras conveniently failed twelve minutes later.
But the city’s temporary mirrored camera system, still active because of the transition investigation, captured him carrying two boxes toward the loading dock.