"The club scene. Dealers, bouncers, everyone."
I changed tactics. My delivery remaining steady and professional. "Let's talk about Daniel Nguyen."
Marshall's face flickered. A brief flash of genuine confusion before he controlled it. "Who?"
"The man who was beaten three nights ago. The one you supposedly assaulted."
"I told you, I was working," Marshall insisted. But there was something off about his response. Not the defensiveness of someone falsely accused. The wooden delivery of someone reciting lines.
"Working for whom?"
Voss interrupted again. "We've already covered his employment. Let's stay focused on the leak. Tell DetectiveCarlson who gave you the information about his confidential informants."
The phrasing was deliberate. Not asking if Marshall had received information, but assuming it as fact and merely questioning the source. Classic leading technique. So blatant it would never hold up in court. But that wasn't the point. This wasn't about building a case. It was about creating a narrative.
Marshall straightened in his chair. His delivery smoothing into something almost robotic. "It was Detective Carlson who leaked the names. Everyone knows he sold out his CIs to save his own career."
The words were identical to his earlier statement. Not similar. Exactly the same, down to the cadence. No one speaks that way naturally. He was reciting memorized lines.
"You already mentioned that. Word for word, in fact. Almost like someone told you exactly what to say."
Marshall's eyes widened slightly. A crack in his performance. Voss stepped forward. His hand came to rest on the back of Marshall's chair. A gesture that could seem casual to an observer. The way Marshall tensed told me it was a warning.
"Consistency in testimony is hardly suspicious. In fact, it's generally considered a mark of truthfulness."
"Not when it sounds like it's being read from a script. Let's try something else. Who beat Daniel Nguyen?"
Marshall's jaw set. "Wasn't me."
"I didn't ask if it was you. I asked who did it."
"I don't know nothing about that."
"But you know about my informants? That's convenient."
"Your own guys mentioned you were the one who couldn't keep your mouth shut. That's what they told us when they handed over the names."
My breath caught. There it was.They.Nothe.Multiple officers involved.
Voss's hand tightened on the back of Marshall's chair. His knuckles whitening slightly. Marshall's face shifted into something close to panic as he realized his mistake.
"Who's they?"
Marshall swallowed hard. Darted a look at Voss like a cornered animal seeking escape. "I meant... the division. You know. Cops."
"Which cops specifically? Names, Marshall. Who handed over the names of my informants?"
Voss stepped in smoothly. His words carrying a warning edge that wasn't there before. "I think we're getting off track. The question isn't who Marshall heard it from. It's why your name keeps coming up in connection with the leak."
"Interesting how consistent witness statements have been about your involvement," Voss continued. Leaned back against the wall with barely concealed satisfaction. "Almost as if there's a pattern."
I recognized the play. He was building a paper trail. Creating an official record that further cemented my supposed guilt. Each "witness" statement added another layer to the fiction he was constructing. Made it harder to unravel.
Marshall, emboldened by Voss's obvious protection, grew cockier. "Your own guys mentioned you were the one who couldn't keep your mouth shut. That's what they told us when they handed over the names."
I froze momentarily. The pluraltheyechoing in my head. Marshall's fearful glance at Voss confirmed what I already suspected. He wouldn't reveal who was really in charge. Not with Voss standing right there.
"These 'guys' you keep mentioning. How many are we talking about?"
