Chapter 4

The next day, Ed and Eve had to work on the drug case they were assigned to, although they wanted nothing more than to help their boss... anyhow. But Ironside would expect them to go on with their work, and so would the Commissioner. He'd had a slight case of food poisoning himself two months ago; therefore he was under the impression that Ironside had more or less just an upset stomach.

"Does he have a heart at all?" wondered Eve angrily when Randall made clear that they could not afford losing time with frequent visits to the hospital. "Isn't he supposed to be the Chief's friend?" She was worried and protective about Ironside and therefore in no shape to be very empathetic towards the Commissioner.

"I suppose he is," answered Ed tiredly. "He just doesn't want to discuss personal matters with us. In his noble world view Commissioners and Chiefs have not much in common with little detectives - particularly little sergeants," he added bitterly. Eve was a Whitfield, one of those Whitfields. Maybe there was some kind of place for her in the Commissioner's picture, but not for him and Mark, that was for sure.

Mark looked thoughtfully at his friends. He had got to know them quite well over the years. Eve wasn't afraid of the Commissioner – she belonged to a social class which didn't ever feel inferior to others. She could easily criticize him, at least behind his back. Ed's pessimism however was caused by his exhaustion. He was basically right of course – for years the Commissioner seemed to have an aversion against him and Mark, if only because he could not get the upper hand on Ironside. But normally Ed would not have let that get to him. He would set out to prove the older man wrong, and actually Randall's opinion of them had changed quite a bit over the last years. The problem wasn't Randall. The problem was that Ed, who didn't have too much self-esteem anyway and who was drained now, was responsible for the work on the high-profile drug case and moreover for the investigation of the attempt on Ironside's life.
But then – that's what he had friends for. Mark - and Eve as well - would do their best to help the sergeant.

Randall had no legal authority over Mark. Therefore he installed himself in front of Jeanine's room for the time being. Cross-legged and provided with a large supply of books he studied law and made sure that nothing happened to Jeanine. Sometimes his head sunk down onto his knees for a minute or two – he had been up all night after all – but nobody would have managed to get into that hospital room or out of it without him noticing it.

Eve was still hard on Jack Dubin's heels. Ed had to follow the leads the colleagues from narcotics had found about Joey Martinique. They had proof of him placing a remarkable number of long-distance calls. Was this a hint that he was the one who delivered the drugs to Europe and Canada?

During official working hours Ed and Eve mostly did what they were expected to do – although they weren't as efficient as usual. Over lunch break they drove to the hospital, not only to try to get to the Chief, but also to relieve Mark for a few minutes.

In the underground car park Ed held his step.

"Anything wrong, Ed?"

He politely opened the passenger door of his car for Eve but discreetly pointed over his shoulder with his head. "See the blue Thunderbird?"

She slipped into the car. "Yes, what's the matter with it?"

Ed walked around the car and took the wheel. "The man inside, that's one of the Monigattis' goons."

"Are you positive that you are not starting to see ghosts?"

"This is no ghost, that's for sure. We'll have to keep a close eye on the Monigattis as well."


For Ironside, the day passed in a haze. He didn't really feel his body, although there was some vague sensation of pain. With time going by he started to feel restricted and locked in. He could not breathe alone, could not move, could not communicate. Sometimes it seemed to him as if one of his friends were nearby, peeking through the glass door, but the next moment he or she was gone. It seemed as if every decision was taken from him, and it made him more uneasy by the hour – and finally downright angry. He was used to taking his own decisions! He was no prisoner, was he? Then why wasn't he his own lord and master? Yet dizziness overtook him again before he could start a proper investigation of his own state and surroundings.


It was after 11pm when Ironside finally didn't need the artificial respiration anymore and medication was reduced to a level that he could actually be called conscious. He was moved to a room on his own – according to Sgt. Brown's suggestion the one adjoining to Jeanine's.

During the afternoon his friends had tried to penetrate into ICU in alternation, whenever they could slip away from work, but weren't allowed anywhere near him. From what they saw through the glass door, his face had an unnatural grayish complexion, and even his eyes had lost their brightness. This wasn't the robust, poker-faced Chief they all knew and worshipped!

But now he was settled in his room he wanted to know the state of affairs.

Ed would have to take care of that. He didn't look forward to it, as happy as he was that Ironside was a little better.

"Where's Jeanine?"

"In the room next door. She doesn't show any signs of intoxication though."

"Is there someone for her protection?"

"Yes, one of us is at her door round the clock. At daytime it was mostly Mark, but now Eve is on duty."

"That's the reason why you wanted us to have adjoining rooms: To be able to keep an eye on me and Jeanine at the same time?"

"Yessir. You were poisoned after all."

"Could be accidental. But actually you are not afraid of an attack against Jeanine, are you?"

"No, Sir." Ed felt sussed out. It was impossible to let the Chief in the dark.

"You don't trust her," stated Ironside matter-of-factly.

The honest Sergeant looked away, but admitted, "No, Sir, I don't."

"You are angry at her. You suspect that she put some poison into my food!"

Ed took a deep breath. It was no use not to tell him the truth. "Only one fish was poisoned, the one which was almost finished. When I asked Mrs. Duvalier to put the leftovers into an evidence bag she only took a piece of the other one, where there was more left, and wanted to throw the rest away." The lab had admitted that they had been in an awful hurry to find out what had poisoned Ironside, but of course they had noticed that much, Ed thought.

"Could still be coincidental."

"Could be."

Ironside felt how difficult it was for Ed to keep his voice neutral and hide his anger. "Then why guard her? To keep her from clearing out?"

Reluctantly Ed nodded.

"What about phone calls?"

"I gave the receptionist a tape recorder. Receptionists change every few hours. Every time I go by I ask the one on duty to tape every incoming and outgoing call for and from her."

Ironside grinned. "I suppose they are pissed off by now, or do you drop a red rose every time you go by?"

"A chocolate bar."

It made Ironside chuckle, but he turned serious quickly. His friend looked exhausted, but strung to breaking point. "Ed!"

"Yessir?"

"Sit down."

Reluctantly Brown picked up a chair. He managed not to collapse onto it.

"Sergeant, do you think that my judgment is clouded, as far as Jeanine is concerned?"

"Err - no, Sir!" Obviously this thought hadn't been too far away for him up to Ironside's question.

"Has it never occurred to you that she might be a victim herself?"

"A vi...? So you knew all along..."

"I didn't know that she might try to poison me, and I still don't know that, but I know that something is wrong."