Chapter 10 - The Man Behind the Badge
Officer Daniel Brooks agreed to speak only after his attorney negotiated immunity from departmental questioning related to the altered records. The interview took place in a conference room at the police union’s offices. Brooks sat with his arms crossed and his eyes fixed on a blank wall.
Marcus had imagined the meeting many times. In some versions, he shouted. In others, Brooks apologized immediately. The real man looked smaller than he had on Harbor Avenue, but not harmless. His hands were folded over a wedding band. A photograph of two children stood on the table beside him.
“I did not know who you were,” Brooks said.
Marcus answered quietly. “You knew I was a person.”
Brooks swallowed. “I am not saying what happened was right.”
“Then say what happened.”
The attorney intervened. “My client will answer questions about procedure.”
“Procedure did not call my car suspicious,” Marcus said. “A judgment did.”
Brooks looked at him then. “We were told to be alert in Northbank. There had been vehicle thefts. There were people moving into properties, contractors, residents, visitors. We were told some vehicles were being used to watch officers.”
Naomi leaned forward. “Who told you?”
“Sergeant Danner gave roll-call briefings.”
“Paul Danner?”
Brooks nodded. “He said if a vehicle seemed out of place, we should investigate.”
“Out of place according to what?”
Brooks did not answer.
Marcus watched the officer’s face. “According to the driver’s race?”
Brooks looked down. “Sometimes assumptions get made.”
“You did not stumble into racism,” Marcus said. “You used it as a reason to put your hands on me.”
Brooks’s jaw tightened. “I thought you were reaching for something.”
“You grabbed me before I reached.”
“You asked why you were being stopped.”
“That is not resistance.”
Brooks rubbed his thumb over the wedding band. “I had been told you might be connected to a group trying to disrupt Northbank.”
Marcus felt the room turn colder. “Who told you my name?”
Brooks remained silent until his attorney whispered to him. “Danner showed us a photo from a city meeting. He said certain people would try to provoke us into making mistakes.”
“So you decided I was a provocation before you spoke to me.”
“I did not say that.”
“You said my car did not match my profile.”
Brooks’s face reddened. “I used a bad phrase.”
“You expressed a belief that my race made my ownership of a car suspicious.”
“I was under pressure.”
Marcus stood. “Pressure explains conduct. It does not excuse it.”
The interview ended when Brooks refused to answer further questions. Outside, reporters crowded the sidewalk. Someone shouted whether he was sorry. Brooks kept his head down.
Two days later, his attorney released a statement saying Brooks had been manipulated by superior officers and had not known about any redevelopment scheme. The statement described him as a working-class officer caught inside a political operation. It did not mention Marcus’s bruises or the words captured on video.
The public split. Some people argued that Brooks was a racist officer who deserved no sympathy. Others argued that he was being sacrificed to protect powerful men. Marcus understood both reactions and trusted neither when it erased responsibility.
At a family dinner, Tasha slammed her fork onto her plate. “He wants to be a victim now.”
“He may have been used,” Marcus said.
“He still chose what he did.”
Renee spoke from the end of the table. “Both things can be true.”
Marcus looked at her. “What would accountability look like if he was ordered to watch us?”
“It would include the person who gave the order,” she said. “It would not remove his own choices.”
That night, Marcus received a message from an unknown number containing a photograph of Brooks’s children leaving school.
The caption read: “Everyone can be pressured.”
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Marcus called Brooks’s attorney, then the police. Before either answered, another message arrived.
“Ask Brooks what he did with the second camera.”
