If Mercer had been involved in the conspiracy, then the institution Marcus had spent his life serving might have been under the control of the very people his brother had tried to expose.
If Mercer had not been involved, then he might be the only person capable of helping them find Daniel.
Either way, Marcus needed answers.
They arrived at headquarters shortly before ten o'clock.
The building's front entrance was brightly illuminated, and several patrol cars stood along the curb. Officers moved through the lobby carrying equipment and paperwork. Nothing appeared unusual, yet Marcus noticed two uniformed officers stationed near the elevators who were not normally assigned to that shift.
One of them recognized him.
"Detective Hale. The chief is expecting you."
Marcus stopped.
"Who told him I was coming?"
The officer hesitated.
"Someone called from his office."
Marcus glanced at Elena.
Neither spoke.
The elevator doors opened, and the three of them stepped inside.
As the doors closed, Sloane quietly said, "If Mercer knows we're coming, he may already have decided what to tell us."
"Then we'd better ask questions he hasn't prepared for," Marcus replied.
The elevator carried them to the executive floor.
A receptionist sat behind a curved desk, typing on a computer. When Marcus approached, she immediately stood.
"Detective Hale, Chief Mercer will see you now."
"All of us?"
Her gaze moved toward Elena and Sloane.
"The chief requested that you come alone."
Marcus smiled without humor.
"That's unfortunate."
"Detective, I really think—"
"Please tell the chief that I'm here to discuss a case involving missing evidence, a potentially wrongful conviction, and the disappearance of a police detective. If he wishes to discuss those matters privately, he can do so with all three of us present."
The receptionist stared at him.
Then she picked up the telephone.
A few seconds later, she replaced the receiver.
"Please follow me."
Mercer's office occupied the corner of the floor, overlooking the city's central avenue. The walls were lined with awards, photographs, and framed commendations. Behind his desk hung a large portrait of the police department's former commissioner, Nathaniel Cross.
Mercer stood beside the window when they entered.
He was in his late fifties, with silver hair and a broad, carefully maintained posture. His uniform was immaculate, every insignia precisely positioned. He turned toward Marcus with an expression of polite concern.
"Detective. I understand you've had a difficult evening."
Marcus closed the door.
"How did you know where I was?"
Mercer smiled faintly.
"You're a police detective. I assume you understand that department vehicles and official communications leave records."
"I wasn't using a department vehicle."
"Then perhaps someone who saw you reported it."
Marcus studied him.
"Someone who saw me where?"
Mercer's smile faded slightly.
"That depends on what you were doing."
Elena stepped forward.
"We were investigating the disappearance of evidence from the Thomas Avery homicide case."
The chief looked at her.
For a fraction of a second, his expression became unreadable.
Then he nodded.
"Ms. Brooks. I wondered when you would return."
Marcus immediately noticed the wording.
"Return?"
Mercer looked toward him.
"She worked with the prosecutor's office during the original investigation. I assumed she might eventually become interested in reviewing the case."
Elena's face hardened.
"You knew I was investigating it?"
"I knew you had asked questions over the years."
"And you never contacted me."
"I had no reason to believe you possessed new evidence."
Marcus removed Daniel's letter from his jacket and placed it on the desk.
"Perhaps you should read this."
Mercer glanced at the handwriting.
He did not touch the paper.
Instead, he walked back toward the window.
"Where did you find it?"
"In a storage compartment connected to my brother's old locker."
Mercer remained silent.
Marcus continued.
"We found a notebook containing financial records, a photograph of Colonel Samuel Reed, and evidence that Daniel believed the remaining documents were hidden somewhere connected to our father's workshop."
At the mention of Reed, the chief turned sharply.
"Samuel Reed?"
"You know him?"
Mercer looked toward the portrait of Nathaniel Cross.
"I knew of him. He was involved in a federal investigation into municipal corruption."
"Then you know he disappeared."
"Yes."
"Do you know where he went?"
"No."
Marcus watched him carefully.
"You answered that very quickly."
Mercer returned to his desk.
"Because I have been asked that question before."
"By whom?"
"Federal investigators. Journalists. People who believed they could uncover a conspiracy simply by connecting names on old documents."
"And what did you tell them?"
"That Colonel Reed left the city before the investigation concluded."
"Is that true?"
Mercer did not answer immediately.
Then he opened a drawer and removed a folder.
"I think you should see something."
He placed it on the desk and turned it toward Marcus.
Inside were several official documents relating to the Avery case. Most were familiar, but one page contained a handwritten note bearing Mercer's signature.
The date was March nineteenth, seventeen years earlier.
Marcus read the note.