1960: My Uncle is the Director of the FBI

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When Ricky reported the connection between the second victim and Richard Garcia II to Chief Garcia, silence followed. Garcia's face shifted through several expressions before settling into grim resolve.

He dispatched a duty officer to broadcast an APB for his own son, requesting Richard Garcia II be brought to the station immediately. Then he summoned the Senior Police Supervisor back to his office to discuss keeping Theodore on the investigation.

Theodore and his colleagues stood frozen in the hallway, understanding they'd stumbled into something more complex than a simple murder case.

Supervisor George checked his watch and announced his departure. The case had moved beyond South District jurisdiction, and paperwork waited at his precinct. He approached Theodore with a grin, pulling him into an embrace.

"Hope we get to work together again soon," George said, patting Theodore's shoulder before heading down the corridor.

Theodore turned toward the interrogation room, but Ricky intercepted him, steering both men toward the detention area instead. Theodore's displeasure was obvious, but Ricky's logic was sound—better to secure their witnesses than risk losing them to political interference.

The East District Branch had emptied for the evening, leaving only two duty officers outside the holding cells. After Ricky completed the paperwork and saw their suspects locked away, Theodore asked a question that stopped everyone cold.

"What if the killer comes for them tonight?"

Ricky froze, staring back at the detention room. The possibility hadn't occurred to him, but now it seemed obvious. Their killer was methodical, motivated, and clearly had access to police intelligence.

Before Theodore could elaborate, the Senior Police Supervisor appeared with news that changed everything. Chief Garcia had contacted Director Adams directly, expressing his desire for Theodore to remain on the case. Adams had agreed.

Ricky exhaled in relief and quickly excused himself. The Senior Supervisor walked toward the parking garage with Theodore.

"Why did Garcia change his mind?" Theodore asked.

The Senior Supervisor looked surprised. "You knew it was Garcia who wanted you transferred?"

Theodore suspected his colleague was joking; the man had a tendency toward inappropriate humor at serious moments.

When Theodore didn't respond, the Senior Supervisor continued. "He doesn't want to lose his position as East District Chief."

"Who's threatening to transfer him?"

"Councilor Santos."

Theodore absorbed this without further questions. The political dynamics were straightforward once you understood the players.

Santos had eliminated his rival Councilor Miller, then neutralized the current mayor's ambitions, making his own ascension to mayor virtually inevitable. Now he was positioning allies throughout the city's power structure, particularly in law enforcement.

The Felton Police Department was a crucial piece of that puzzle. Even if Santos couldn't achieve complete control, he needed reliable intelligence about departmental activities. Unlike the current mayor, who remained ignorant of police operations, Santos intended to keep close watch on law enforcement.

Before parting ways, the Senior Supervisor offered reassurance. "Don't overthink the transfer attempt. Not everyone supported pulling you from the case, and you have backing at headquarters."

Theodore remained noncommittal about this supposed support.

Returning to the West District Branch, Theodore was summoned by Wenner for a progress briefing, then escorted to Chief Weideke's office for formal debriefing. Both men showed intense interest in young Garcia's involvement, pressing Theodore for details about the political implications.

Theodore answered honestly while emphasizing their evidence was preliminary. They were still operating on speculation and incomplete interrogations. The two friends of the second victim had admitted participating in sexual assault, but young Garcia's involvement remained unconfirmed.

Chief Weideke offered encouragement before dismissing him, pleased that his detective was positioned at the center of such a politically significant case.

Outside the chief's office, Bernie waited with the patient expression of someone who'd spent considerable time in police station hallways. The two men walked toward the parking lot while Theodore recounted the day's developments.

After hearing the full account, Bernie offered a different perspective on Detective Brown's silence.

"He's not just being threatened," Bernie suggested. "He's protecting his partner's reputation."

"How so?"

"Think about it. Your partner gets executed in his own bedroom, gun and badge stolen. That's shameful enough for a cop. Add sexual assault to his record, and his reputation is destroyed. Maybe nobody even shows up for his funeral."

Theodore asked for Bernie's reasoning behind this theory.

Bernie shrugged. "If it were my partner, I'd make the same choice Brown is making."

Theodore reflected on his three fruitless interrogations of Detective Brown. Perhaps Bernie's presence might have yielded different results; his colleague had always shown superior skill at reading people's motivations.

Day four arrived gray and unwelcome.

Theodore reached the East District Branch on schedule and found Ricky outside the detention area, looking like he'd spent the night awake.

Ricky pointed an accusing finger at Theodore from across the hallway, yawned, then emerged from the holding area followed by two surprisingly energetic young men.

"This is all your fault," Ricky announced while waiting to process the prisoners for questioning.

He'd left the station confidently the previous evening, but spent the entire night imagining scenarios where their killer infiltrated the detention area for some theatrical multiple homicide. Theodore's casual suggestion had planted seeds of paranoia.

Theodore looked innocent. "I was merely presenting a theoretical possibility."

Ricky waved off any further argument, too tired for debate.

They were escorting their suspects toward the interrogation rooms when Chief Garcia appeared in the corridor, followed by a young man whose expensive clothes and nervous demeanor marked him as someone unaccustomed to police stations.

Garcia handed the young man over to a processing officer before turning to Theodore and Ricky.

"This is my son, Richard Garcia II," he announced with the tone of a man making peace with inevitable scandal. "I've instructed him to cooperate fully with your investigation."

Ricky's expression registered shock before settling into professional acknowledgment. Theodore merely nodded, offering no reaction to Garcia's obvious discomfort.

Garcia stared at Theodore for a long moment, perhaps trying to read the federal agent's intentions, then turned back to Ricky with final instructions to keep the investigation focused and properly documented. His support came with obvious conditions and anxiety.

After Garcia's departure, Ricky studied Theodore with concern.

"What's his problem with you?"

Theodore shook his head. "I don't know."

Ricky didn't entirely believe this, but decided it was plausible. Federal agents probably inspired wariness in local chiefs under the best circumstances.

The two friends of the second victim were quickly installed in the interrogation room. After a night in detention, Brooks appeared to be having second thoughts about his previous confession, a common phenomenon Theodore had observed.

Recognizing the warning signs, Theodore decided to begin with Kenneth instead, using the same photographic shock treatment that had proven effective with Brooks.

Kenneth's reaction proved identical to his friend's, and his story filled in crucial details about the night that had started this deadly chain of events.

Two months ago, the three young men had borrowed Chief Garcia's official police vehicle from his son. Arriving at a party in the East District Chief's personal car had made them instant celebrities among their wealthy peers, until neighbors complained about noise, and patrol officers arrived to investigate.

The responding team consisted of a male officer and his female partner. The East District Branch employed several women for patrol duties in affluent neighborhoods, where certain situations required a female officer's presence.

The male officer was prepared to leave after spotting Garcia's official vehicle, but his female partner insisted on following procedure. She dispersed the party, sending the young partygoers home.

The three friends felt humiliated by this treatment. On their way home, they spotted the female officer ending her shift and followed her to her residence. Their retaliation took the form of sexual assault.

"The noise we made brought more patrol officers," Kenneth continued casually. "But they left when they saw Chief Garcia's car."

The interrogation room fell silent. Ricky struggled to process the casual brutality of the account.

Kenneth seemed genuinely confused by their reaction. "I'm telling the truth! That female officer resigned afterward, just two months ago!"

Theodore asked for names, but Kenneth claimed ignorance of both the victim's identity and the responding officers who'd been deterred by Garcia's vehicle.

"We were too nervous to pay attention to who the patrol cops were," he explained with adolescent logic that treated rape as a minor inconvenience.

He did remember the assault location clearly, providing an address that would prove crucial to their investigation.

Within thirty minutes, a detective confirmed Kenneth's story. A female patrol officer named Deborah Hall had indeed lived at that address and resigned from the force two months prior.

The address fell within the patrol sector assigned to the first victim and Detective Brown, and duty logs confirmed both men had been working the night shift when the assault occurred.

Theodore felt the killer's face finally coming into focus. Ricky shared the sensation of pieces falling into place.

"Do we still need to question young Garcia?" Ricky asked.

Theodore found the question puzzling. Without Garcia's testimony, how could they verify the confession's accuracy? Their physical evidence remained thin, and without solid witness statements, the case report might face rejection from prosecutors.

Theodore had no intention of letting a promising investigation end in bureaucratic limbo.

Young Garcia proved surprisingly cooperative, perhaps following his father's explicit instructions. He admitted lending his friends the official vehicle but claimed complete ignorance about the sexual assault.

His reaction to Theodore and Ricky's account appeared genuinely shocked. He quickly provided an alibi for the assault night—a dinner party attended with his father, complete with a guest list and detailed descriptions that could be verified independently.

After completing young Garcia's interrogation, Theodore remembered Bernie's advice from the previous evening and suggested questioning Detective Brown one final time.

Ricky looked skeptical but agreed to locate Brown for another session.

Brown entered the interrogation room with a resigned expression. "I've told you everything I know," he began before even sitting down.

Theodore studied him carefully before asking, "Does that include turning a blind eye while your colleague was being assaulted?"

"Did you think Chief Garcia was inside that building? So you pretended nothing happened and walked away?"

Brown glanced up briefly, then returned his gaze to the table without responding.

Theodore adjusted his approach. "Were you trying to protect Officer Michael Jansen's reputation?"

This time, Brown raised his head, meeting Theodore's eyes directly.

"Now we know you both ignored a fellow officer's assault to curry favor with Chief Garcia," Theodore continued. "After this comes out, nobody might even attend Jansen's funeral."

The silence stretched between them before Brown finally broke.

His account differed significantly from young Garcia's sanitized version. That night, they'd received a domestic disturbance call and responded to the address. Upon seeing Garcia's official vehicle parked outside, they left immediately without investigating further.

While young Garcia hadn't been present during the assault, he wasn't entirely ignorant of events. Approximately one week later, he'd approached both Detective Brown and Officer Jansen privately, offering three thousand dollars each as hush money and warning them never to discuss the incident.

Young Garcia had also provided ten thousand dollars to Deborah Hall as a settlement payment. She'd left Felton shortly afterward.

When Ricky asked how Brown knew the settlement amount, the detective explained that young Garcia had mentioned resolving matters with Deborah before approaching the two officers.

Brown concluded with a personal request: "Can you at least wait until after Jansen's funeral before making this public?"

His plea went unanswered.

Ricky was surprised not only that Brown had finally spoken, but by the substantial discrepancies between his account and the previous confessions they'd collected.

Theodore didn't dwell on these contradictions. Instead, he reminded Ricky that they needed to locate Deborah Hall's patrol partner immediately.

Around noon, that partner returned to the branch accompanied by his new colleague. Theodore recognized both officers—they were the same pair who'd previously escorted him back to the West District Branch.

The detective reportedly going through a divorce was Joe, Deborah's former partner. Facing a fellow officer, Theodore abandoned conventional interrogation tactics in favor of direct conversation.

"Did you know Deborah had been assaulted?" Theodore asked without preamble.

Joe appeared stunned, remained silent for several moments, then nodded slowly.

"How did you know?"

"She left her keys in the patrol car. I went back to return them and found her in bed—" Joe's voice trailed off, unable to complete the description.

"Did you see who did it?"

Joe shook his head slowly, his expression carrying guilt and helplessness.

At that moment, Ricky entered with a duty roster. Joe had been on duty during both murders—day shift when the first victim died, night shift when the second victim was killed. It was a perfect alibi.

Theodore glanced through the interrogation room window where Joe's new partner stood watching.

"You went to return keys, but didn't you hear the radio call?" Theodore asked, returning his attention to Joe.

All patrol officers within a sector received alerts about incidents in their area, even when off duty.

"Didn't you realize the call was coming from your partner Deborah's address?"

Joe was quiet for a while before shaking his head. "We usually turn off our radios after shift ends."

Theodore looked at Ricky meaningfully. "Should we go check your patrol car right now to see if the radio is on or off?"

Joe started to explain that his new partner preferred keeping the radio active, but Theodore cut him off.

"You heard the radio call," he stated. "So you rushed back, thinking Deborah was in trouble. But when you arrived, you saw Chief Garcia's official car parked outside."

Theodore paused, letting the scenario build in Joe's mind.

"You hesitated. You were scared. You didn't dare go upstairs. All you could do was wait outside."

The interrogation room fell silent except for Joe's increasingly labored breathing. Theodore had painted a picture of a man caught between duty and self-preservation, forced to choose between protecting his partner and protecting his career.

The choice Joe had made that night was written across his face.

[End of Chapter]