That was the end of the line. Furthermore, Captain Donovan added, leaning back in his chair, Officer Harrison has just signed a sworn affidavit stating that Perry fabricated the probable cause for the traffic stop explicitly to harass a civilian. We have the body body cam footage showing unprovoked physical assault. And as you may have noticed, the victim in this case is the daughter of the chief of police. O'Grady slowly placed the paper back onto the desk.
He looked at Dimitar James, then at Maya, who was watching him with cool, calculating eyes. O'Grady was a fighter. But he wasn't a fool. He knew a blood bath when he saw one. Perry hadn't just stepped on a landmine.
He had jumped on a grenade and pulled the pin himself. "I see, " O'Grady said, clearing his throat awkwardly. He took a step back from the desk, physically distancing himself from his client's sinking ship. The PBA cannot and will not condone the destruction of evidence. Officer Perry is on his own regarding the felony tampering charges.
Glad we agree, Tom. James said, finally standing up. He buttoned his black trench coat. By 8:00 a. m., I want Perry's formal resignation on my desk. If he resigns, I will let the district attorney handle the criminal charges regarding the assault and the tampering.
If he refuses to resign, I will publicly fire him at a 9:00 a. m. press conference. I will release the body cam footage to every news outlet in the state, and I will personally lobby the US attorney to charge him with federal civil rights violations under section 1983. " James leaned forward, his voice dropping to a terrifying whisper. He will never wear a badge again. Not in this city, not in this state, not anywhere.
Go tell your client what time it is, Tom. O'Grady nodded quickly, turning on his heel and fleeing the room. The Union machinery had officially abandoned Bernard Perry. The predator had become the prey, dismantled with ruthless, bureaucratic precision before the sun had even risen. The interrogation room deep inside the fourth precinct was a sensory deprivation chamber designed to break the human spirit.
The walls were painted a dull institutional gray, and the air conditioning was permanently cranked to a freezing 60°. For 2 hours, Bernard Perry had been left alone in that room. He had paced the floor, his heavy boots scuffing the linoleum. He had cursed. He had kicked the metal table leg.
And finally, he had collapsed into the rigid metal chair, staring at the one-way mirror. He knew exactly how this game was played. He had used these exact tactics on hundreds of suspects. The isolation was meant to let the panic steep like a bitter tea. At 5:45 a. m., the heavy steel door finally unlocked with a loud mechanical clank.
Chief Dimitar James walked in first, followed closely by Captain Richard Donovan. Neither man carried a notepad. Neither man offered Perry a cup of water or a cigarette. They didn't sit down. They simply stood on the opposite side of the steel table, looking down at the man who had terrorized the southside for a decade.