“No,” Marcus said.
David looked at him.
“Why not?”
“Because if the mayor has people inside the municipal government, the request could reach him before it reaches a judge.”
Elena agreed.
“Marcus is right. We'll handle the evidence through the state investigation. But we need to know where Lawson is and whether he's still in possession of the recording.”
Marcus picked up his phone.
“I'll call him.”
Elena raised a hand.
“Don't.”
“Why?”
“Because if someone is monitoring his communications, your call could put him in danger.”
Marcus stopped.
Elena continued.
“Let me send a team to the department. Quietly. We'll establish contact with Lawson in person.”
Parker suddenly spoke.
“There's something else.”
Everyone turned toward the screen.
“What?” Marcus asked.
Parker hesitated.
“Thomas Reed had a daughter.”
Marcus looked at David.
“Do we know her name?”
“Rebecca Reed,” Parker replied. “She was about twelve when her father disappeared.”
Elena's expression softened.
“Where is she now?”
“I don't know. But I remember seeing a note in Mercer's file. It said she had been placed with relatives after her father's death.”
“His death was never officially confirmed,” Marcus said.
“That's the point,” Parker replied. “The family was told he had abandoned them. His wife was pressured into signing documents. She was told that if she kept asking questions, she could lose custody of Rebecca.”
Marcus felt anger rising in his chest.
“They destroyed a family to protect themselves.”
Parker nodded.
“And I think Rebecca knows more than anyone realizes.”
The next morning, Chief Lawson arrived at the department before sunrise.
He had not slept.
The black envelope remained inside his briefcase, but he had removed the recording and placed it in a small evidence pouch. He had made two copies during the night. One was hidden in a secure location outside the department. The other had been delivered to a trusted attorney who had no connection to Brookhaven politics.
He had also written a detailed statement describing Whitmore's visit and the mayor's telephone call.
But he still had not contacted Marcus.
He was afraid that every move he made could be watched.
At 7:15 a.m., Deputy Chief Mitchell entered his office without knocking.
“Morning, Chief.”
Lawson looked up.
“Close the door.”
Mitchell did.
“You look terrible,” Mitchell said.
“I didn't sleep.”
“Neither did I.”
Lawson studied him.
“Did you speak with the mayor last night?”
Mitchell's expression barely changed.
“I speak with the mayor regularly.”
“Did he call you about the eighth recording?”
For the first time, Mitchell seemed genuinely surprised.
“Where did you hear that?”
Lawson leaned back.
“So he did.”
Mitchell walked toward the desk.
“Harold, we need to be very careful here.”
“That's what everyone keeps telling me.”
“Because this situation is dangerous.”
“Dangerous for whom?”
“For the department.”
“No. Dangerous for the people who have spent ten years lying.”
Mitchell's face hardened.
“You don't understand what you're dealing with.”
“I understand more than you think.”
“Do you?”
Mitchell leaned forward.
“Then let me explain something. There were decisions made ten years ago that cannot be judged by today's standards. The city was facing financial collapse. There were people who wanted to destroy the redevelopment project. There were threats. There were political pressures.”
“Was Thomas Reed one of those threats?”
Mitchell said nothing.
“Did you order Whitmore to transport him?”
“I never ordered anyone to harm him.”
“That wasn't my question.”
Mitchell straightened.
“You should be careful about making accusations.”
Lawson opened a drawer and removed a photograph.
It showed Thomas Reed standing outside a warehouse. The image was old and slightly blurred, but his face was recognizable.
“Do you remember him?”
Mitchell stared at the photograph.
For a moment, something passed across his face.
Fear.
Then he looked away.
“Where did you get that?”
“Does it matter?”
“Yes. It matters a great deal.”
“Why?”
Mitchell lowered his voice.
“Because if that photograph is what I think it is, you need to understand that some people are willing to do terrible things to keep it from becoming public.”
Lawson watched him carefully.
“Are you threatening me?”
“I'm warning you.”
“Then answer one question. Is Thomas Reed alive?”
Mitchell looked directly at him.
“No.”
The answer was quiet, but unmistakable.
Lawson felt his stomach tighten.
“How do you know?”
Mitchell took a long breath.
“Because I saw what happened.”
The chief stood up.
“What happened?”
Mitchell looked toward the closed door.
“I can't discuss it here.”
“You can discuss it right now.”
“Not without protection.”
“Protection from whom?”
Mitchell did not answer.