“Is this committee really suggesting that forty-eight hours earlier, I somehow tracked down a golden handgun, engraved Larry Grant’s initials into it, then jammed it into his dead hand without one single bystander taking out their phone to film it … all to justify my shooting some random drug dealer I’d never even met before?”

I let that question hang in the air for a moment. Then I make my final statement.

“I want all of you to think about that,” I say. “Then I want you to consider my fourteen-year record. Then consider who I am. What I do in my off time. And ask yourselves, if I was just another average cop, would any of this charade be happening?”

My little monologue leaves me practically winded but also leaves Bossett and the other committee members briefly speechless. They lean in and whisper among themselves for a few seconds. Then the deputy superintendent clears his throat. I think I even detect a bit of contrition in his voice as he says, “Detective Rooney, this board has no further questions.”

I get out of my chair, wanting to feel triumphant, but only feeling relief it’s over.

CHAPTER 5

I walk out of the hearing room about two inches taller than I walked in as Ty leaps to his feet and shouts, “Shit, Rooney, you’re good as dead!”

I try to ignore the commotion that breaks out as I exit, Bossett struggling to maintain order, raising his voice. I also ignore the subtle offer of a fist bump from that smirking young officer posted at the door.

Look, a man is dead. Passions are running high on both sides of the blue line. And the press is having a field day because I happen to love food as well as justice. I get all that. I do. But none of that is any excuse for the way my department has treated me. Which I think—I hope—I just made clear in there.

I’m confident the review board will rule my use of force was justified. Until they release their final recommendation, however, letting me get my gun and badge back, technically I’m still on administrative leave.

But even with the hearing over, there’s one more thing I have to do. To my surprise, the decision came to me as I was walking out of that chamber, leaving behind the shouts, curses, and insults.

As I walk through the building’s central ground-floor hallway toward the elevators, I exchange greetings with the many officers, detectives, and administrators I pass. Each one tries to act casual, but I can tell they’re a little spooked to see me. They all know my hearing was today. And watching a colleague catch heat is never easy. I feel like I have some sort of contagion that they want to avoid catching.