His staff began writing.
“No dispatch audio gets overwritten.”
Another note.
“No body-camera footage gets exported without hash verification.”
“Sir.”
“Every firefighter radio transmission gets preserved.”
“Yes.”
“Every police unit on the block submits a report separately.”
The assistant looked up.
“Separately?”
“No joint review.”
Malcolm continued.
“Fire scene photographs need timestamps, source identification, and chain-of-custody entries.”
He looked at the photographs of his own home.
“The ruins become evidence.”
That silenced the room.
“Every section removed by the fire marshal gets logged.”
One prosecutor frowned.
“You’re designating your entire property as evidence?”
“Yes.”
“That could take weeks.”
“Then it takes weeks.”
Malcolm looked around.
“Memories can be pressured.”
His voice softened.
“Records can be tested.”
At noon, Evan Cole appeared outside police headquarters.
Cameras crowded the sidewalk.
The same six officers stood behind him.
Cole wore a fresh uniform.
Nothing about him looked like a man whose command had stood beside a burning house hours earlier.
He read from prepared notes.
“This morning’s incident involved an emergency tactical operation at a property believed to contain materials relevant to an active investigation.”
Reporters shouted questions.
Cole continued.
“During the operation, a fire originated inside the residence.”
Malcolm watched from his office television.
Cole’s expression remained steady.
“The cause is under review.”
No mention of the fuel can.
No mention of multiple points of origin.
No mention of firefighters being delayed.
Cole continued.
“Officers acted on information believed valid at the time.”
Then came the phrase Malcolm expected.
“There is no evidence of intentional targeting.”
A reporter asked whether officers had started the fire.
Cole did not answer directly.
“This appears to have been an unfortunate operational event.”
Operational event.
The phrase spread across local news before investigators had finished photographing the first room.
Unfortunate.
Operational.
No intentional targeting.
Each word attempted to turn fire into weather.
Malcolm shut off the television.
“Begin the audit.”
By dawn the next morning, Malcolm had converted an unused conference room into a records command center.
Whiteboards covered one wall.
5:14 — First police unit enters neighborhood.
5:21 — Tactical vehicle blocks east access.
5:28 — Malcolm removed from property.
5:31 — Neighbor reports officer carrying red fuel container.
5:47 — First visible flames.
5:49 — First 911 fire call.
5:54 — Fire unit dispatched.
6:02 — Fire unit arrives at roadblock.
6:18 — Fire unit gains access.
7:12 — Search warrant entered into municipal system.
Malcolm stood in front of the timeline.
Seven twelve.
He read it again.
The warrant had been entered nearly ninety minutes after the house began burning.
That did not automatically prove it had not existed earlier.
Paper records could be delayed.
Electronic systems could lag.
But the number mattered.
Malcolm requested the original warrant.
He received a scanned copy.
No embedded metadata.
No judge’s digital signature.
Only a photocopied signature page.
He requested the paper original.
Police refused.
Cole issued a written response.
Operational records restricted pending internal review.
Malcolm read it.
Then requested body-camera footage.
Denied.
Dispatch recordings.
Restricted.
Deployment logs.