CHAPTER 27

“Shit,” Captain Calloway said after watching the iPhone video of Lita Mendez fighting with Captain Madrid. We were in his office with the door closed. Jeb locked the iPhone inside his desk drawer as if he wanted to get the offending evidence out of his sight forever.

“Technically, that video is grounds for an administrative assault complaint against Captain Madrid,” I said. “We should probably prepare a charge sheet, confront her with the video, and start a normal IAG Board of Rights proceeding immediately. But we’ll be filing against our own head of Professional Standards Advocates Section and that’s gonna produce a disaster. It could also lead to a criminal charge against Captain Madrid for Lita’s murder.”

“I get it. I don’t need it explained to me!” Jeb snapped angrily.

Captain Calloway was a damn good commanding officer who we all called the Haitian Sensation. You seldom give a commander a funny nickname unless he’s well liked, which Jeb was. He was born in Haiti and immigrated here as a boy, then became a naturalized citizen. The captain was only five foot eight, but he had a muscular comic book hero’s build and a bullet-shaped shaved head, hence the moniker. But like most commanders, Jeb hated high-stakes situations involving internal politics.

“What should we do? We need some direction, boss,” I prodded gently. “We really need to pursue this, but as you can see, it’s full of complications.”

“You talked to Captain Scully?” he asked, hoping Alexa had already weighed in, taking him off the hook.

“No, sir. We came to you first.”

“Yeah, okay … okay. Good.” He was fiddling with the ruler on top of his desk and finally slapped it down hard on the leather pad. Then he got to his feet and said, “You guys just took on Hannah Trumbull’s cold case, right?”

“Yes, sir,” I said. “It’s become part of the V-TV show. We just thought-”

“Yeah, I know. Alexa discussed it with me. I’m not convinced you guys taking that case is smart.”

“If we were smart, we’d have offices in Century City and big movie careers,” Hitch said, grinning.

“Don’t start up with me on that, Hitchens,” Jeb warned, then heaved a big, tired sigh. “Okay, look. I need to bring a few other people in on this before we make a move on Captain Madrid-Alexa and Deputy Chief Bud Hawkins to name just two. We have to bear in mind that the cell-cam video shows inappropriate physical contact with a civilian, but it doesn’t make Captain Madrid guilty of Lita Mendez’s murder.”

“We know that, skipper,” Hitch said. “Judge Amador already warned us.”

“That video was shot by a court clerk,” I said. “Even though Judge Amador told her to keep it confidential, we all know if three people are trying to keep a secret, two had better be dead. We’ve got to figure this is going to leak. When it does, the obvious marketplace for the information is Nash’s show.”

“Stop telling me shit I know,” Jeb said irritably.

“I’m just saying don’t take too much time before you decide, Captain. We’d hate to be running in the outside lane on this.”

“Okay,” Jeb said. “In the meantime, you guys get busy on the Hannah Trumbull case. I’ll get back to you on the disposition of Captain Madrid by six o’clock tonight.”

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