He turned it over, noting the distinct lack of a serial number. Replaced only by a government barcode and a DOJ asset tag. Walsh felt the floor tilt beneath him. The 12th precinct had been under a cloud of suspicion for years regarding missing evidence money and coerced confessions. Walsh knew they were dirty.
He just didn't know the feds were already at his doorstep. And his dumbest patrolman had just assaulted a federal agent and destroyed a sealed indictment. "Listen to me very carefully," Walsh said, his voice trembling as he looked at Hayes and the desk sergeant. "Wipe the booking log, erase her name. We are going to walk her out to her car, apologize, and pray to God she doesn't burn this entire city to the ground.
Walsh grabbed the keys and practically ran down the hallway to holding cell 3. He fumbled with the keys, his hands shaking violently. He threw the heavy iron door open. Joe was still sitting on the concrete bench, her posture perfect, her expression impassive. Ms.
Carter, Walsh panted, forcing a sick, terrified smile. There's been a terrible misunderstanding, a clerical error. Officer Hayes is a rookie. He didn't know what he was looking at. I'm releasing you immediately.
Your belongings are at the desk, and I will personally escort you back to your vehicle. Joe didn't stand up. " She looked at the wall clock. "3:05 a.m. " 20 minutes had passed. "I'm not leaving, Captain Walsh," Joe said softly, her voice echoing in the small concrete room. Walsh wiped the sweat from his forehead.
"Miss Carter, please, you're free to go. We don't want any trouble. The trouble is already here, Captain," Joe said, finally locking eyes with him. Her gaze was as cold as the concrete beneath her. Officer Hayes destroyed a Title 18 sealed indictment detailing the racketeering charges against this very precinct.
He assaulted a federal officer, and by attempting to wipe the booking log, which I assume you just ordered, you are now a co-conspirator in the obstruction of a federal investigation. " Walsh opened his mouth to speak, but the words died in his throat. Suddenly, the fluorescent lights in the precinct flickered, buzzed violently, and died, plunging the station into absolute darkness. Outside the whale of police sirens had vanished. In its place was a terrifying mechanical hum. The low guttural growl of heavy diesel engines pulling up to the front, back, and side entrances of the building.
Red and blue emergency lights were gone. Through the high barred windows of the precinct, intense blinding white spotlights clicked on, cutting through the rain and illuminating the station like a surgical theater. Captain, the desk sergeant yelled from down the hall, his voice cracking in the dark. Captain, the front doors, they just magnetically locked from the outside. The radios are dead.
Cell services jammed. We have no signal. Walsh stumbled backward, bracing himself against the cell bars. Joe finally stood up in the darkness. "You shouldn't have torn the envelope, Captain. " Joe whispered into the shadows.