Moonlight in San Francisco

Chapter 8

8.1

The next day was completely unproductive. Ironside sat looking out the window with a glass of bourbon in his hand. It was two o'clock in the morning and both Mark and Barbara were asleep. Although he would have loved to have Barbara sitting with him while he ran this case through his mind, he would not disturb her. Most people needed more sleep than he did or at least more sleep then he allowed himself to get.

Why had this killer been able to elude him so far? He knew the clues were in front of him but something was missing. He had to find it and soon. Ironside was worried about his staff. The killer seemed intent on killing one of them to break him. The man had no idea what that would actually do to the tough detective. Break me, thought Ironside, it would only serve to enrage me. And Robert T. Ironside was the exception. Unlike other people he could think straight when he was enraged. No, this man simply did not know Ironside as well as he seemed to think.

He wheeled himself back to the table and began looking through the lists of names of the people buried in the local cemeteries. Occasionally a name would pop out at him but after checking the files in the office he would find that either it had no connection to the case or further checking would have to be done. Fran would be coming into work in the morning. He would put her on those.

Ironside was upset with himself for not paying more attention to finding Vic Richards. He knew Barbara had understood with all that had transpired in the last few days, but he wanted very much to find Vic so that Barbara could have closure on her marriage. For both Vic's and Barbara's sake he hoped that he would find him alive. But with each passing day he was beginning to think that would not happen. There had been no trace of him since he disappeared from the hotel. Granted, Ironside had not had much time to devote to locating him but there had to be an explanation as to why he had not been in touch with Barbara. Even if he sensed the end of their marriage and chose to avoid her, he would not cut off contact with the girls. Vic loved those girls. When the older one had been kidnapped. Vic had known it was taking a major chance allowing Ironside to come back into Barbara's life, if only for what he hoped would be for a short time. Vic had been lucky…if Ironside could really call it luck, that Barbara had lost her memory of him in the fall.

He had not expected to ever see Barbara again but now that he had he did not want to lose her for a third time. No, he simply had to find Vic, preferably alive but he had to find him regardless. If he was to start a new life with Barbara that obstacle had to be removed. Life for him as well as Barbara and her girls would change drastically. They would have to move to San Francisco. It would mean moving out of the office and finding a place for his new family. His office/residence would become just his office.

He would have to help Mark as it would be just as big an adjustment for him. Mark had become much more than just an aide. He had become one of Ironside's closest friends. The bond between them was as strong as one two men could get. He knew Mark would handle it just fine. He was a strong-willed, fine young man. It would probably bother Ironside more than Mark. It would not however affect the friendship between the two men. Ironside would see to that.

The chief felt a soft hand on his shoulder. He turned his head to see Barbara standing behind him. "Now I know I did not wake you. I have not made a sound," he said softly as he kissed her hand.

She laughed, "Your voice didn't but one could hear you thinking all the way to New York."

He turned his chair and Barbara sat down in his lap. "Are you going to sit up half the night all the time? Will I have to tie you into bed nightly?"

Ironside smiled. "Even that would not keep my mind from thinking about a case." He hesitated and then said, "We are going to have to find a place for us to live in. We certainly cannot live here with the girls and Mark."

Barbara put her finger to his lips. "All in good time, my love. Right now you have a case to solve. We need to put this behind us so we can look to the future."

"There will always be a case, you know," Ironside said.

"I know that and I will be able to deal with it. But I won't have a missing husband to deal with," she said.

"You will have a husband to deal with. You don't think I am going to allow you to live in sin, do you?" he said with a smirk.

She smiled back at him. "So this is how you propose?" She tried to mock shock but failed as she could not keep the giggle out of her voice.

"Well getting down on one knee would present a problem under the circumstances," he said with a grin.

Barbara laughed out loud. "I can see life with you will never be dull."

"I'm a lot of things but dull is not one of them." He grinned again.

The phone rang. Ironside reached over Barbara and picked up the receiver. "Ironside."

"Hello, Chief. Did you like my latest masterpiece?" the voice asked.

Ironside reached over and pressed the record button on the machine. "That officer you murdered had a wife and four kids."

"More blood on your hands, Chief," he said.

"No, you are the one doing the killing. You can hide behind blaming me but it is you stabbing those people to death. You're careless, aren't you? You missed Officer Belding and you won't get a second chance. You didn't even scare her off. She wants to come back tomorrow to help find you. You are not…"

"Stop stalling, Chief. I will not be on here long enough for you to trace the call. I just called to say the man you are looking for is alive, but I will not guarantee how much longer that will be the case. It's time for your next lesson. Body number seven coming up. Sleep tight, Chief. And tell your girlfriend I am coming for her, too." The phone went dead.

Ironside dialed and called downstairs. "Milt, the call that just came in. Did you trace it?"

"Yea, Chief, but he was not on long enough to get his location," Milt said.

"Alright, Milt, thanks." Ironside hung up the phone.

"That was him, wasn't it?" Barbara asked.

"Yes," Ironside said. "I think we can be pretty sure Vic ran into him. He's alive, Barbara, but we have got to find him and fast.

8.2

Ironside sat at the breakfast table with his staff. Mark had prepared a breakfast of eggs and sausages. Fran was late. Carl and Ed had arrived early. Both men were looking at cemetery lists trying to spark a memory of someone who might be performing these grisly crimes.

The door opened and Fran came down the ramp. She looked as though she had not slept much. She was supporting dark circles under her eyes.

Ironside looked at his obviously tired officer and barked, "Officer Belding, are you able to work or should I send you home for some rest?" He knew she wanted to help but he could just as easily send her home for her own good. He quite often overworked Ed but Ironside was more protective of his female staff.

"I am fine, Chief. I admit I did not sleep well but I want to help." She sat down beside her boss, hoping he would not send her home.

He looked into her eyes and saw something there…determination, sheer raw determination. No, he was not going to bench an officer who wanted the killer as much as he did. He softened his voice. "Alright Fran, have some breakfast and then we will all get to work."

Mark put breakfast down in front of everyone. "Coffee would be nice!" shouted the chief.

"It's coming and I am not deaf," Mark shouted back equally as loud. He brought the coffee pot over and poured Ironside a cup of coffee.

Ironside took a sip of coffee and made a face. "Is Eve the only one around here that can make a decent cup of coffee?" he groused.

No one said anything. They knew the pretty police officer was on the boss's mind. She was still in the drug-induced coma and Ironside was getting anxious. He wanted to talk to her. Only then would his mind be eased that she was going to be alright.

The door burst open and Commissioner Randall came down the ramp. "Mark! The commissioner looks hungry," Ironside yelled.

Mark just shook his head. He would think he would have gotten used to his loud, boisterous boss by now. He dished up another plate of eggs and sausages and placed it in front of the commissioner. Mark went back to the kitchen and brought the commissioner a cup and poured from the pot that was now sitting on the table.

"Bob, I thought we were going to withhold the name Moonlight Killer out of press releases. How did they get hold of it?" Randall asked.

"Dennis, this building is full of people. Do you really want me to hold an investigation to find out who the blabbermouth was?" Ironside grumbled with irritation.

"My, we are in a bad mood this morning, aren't we?" Randall said with an innocence that only served to irritate Ironside more. Hidden smiles were shared around the table. Everyone knew better than to laugh when the boss was in a sour mood.

"At the risk of making your mood worse…if that is actually possible, I would like to know where we stand with this case. The phones are ringing off the hook this morning with concerned citizens, not to mention the mayor and several members of the city council," Randall continued, risking the wrath of the man who was supposed to be his subordinate.

Ironside brought Randall up to date including the phone call he had received the night before. That came as news to the others as well since the chief had intended on briefing them after breakfast. Randall listened intently to his top detective and friend. He could see this case had taken a toll on Chief Ironside. He knew him well enough to know the one kind of criminal Ironside hated more than any other was a serial killer. Working to find a criminal was one thing but having to worry about everyone in the entire city being the next victim was something Ironside took personally. He considered this his city and anyone who attacked a member of it was attacking him.

"So what does this all mean, Bob? Are we any closer to finding this maniac?" Randall inquired.

"Dennis, we are doing everything we can. The cemetery lists you see around the table will contain a name of someone the killer thinks I am responsible for putting there. As soon as we get that person's identity we will find ourselves a killer," Ironside told his boss.

Dennis Randall looked around the table at everyone who was going through the lists that were everywhere. "Why, there must be hundreds of names on those lists," he observed.

Without looking up from his list Ed Brown said, "Thousands."

"That could take weeks," Randall complained.

"Months," Carl Reese added.

"Bob, there must be another way. We are soon going to have a full-scale panic on our hands in this city. I have the city council giving me lists of people they want protected to keep them from becoming victims," Randall warned.

"Look on the bright side, Dennis," Ironside said.

"What bright side?" he asked skeptically.

Ironside lifted one of the lists and pointed it at Randall. "These lists contain not one single person you will have to protect from becoming a victim."

"Very funny Bob," an irritated commissioner replied as he watched the smiles spreading across the faces of Ironside's staff.

The phone rang. Mark was the one closest to a phone. He got up and answered, "Chief Ironside's office. Just a moment, he's right here. Chief."

Ironside backed his wheelchair away from the table and took the receiver from Mark. "Ironside," he said in his usual gruff voice. He listened for a moment and said, "Thank you, nurse. I will be down to see her." He slammed the phone in the receiver.

Everyone in the room was looking at the chief, waiting for what they knew was a report on Eve. Ironside turned to his staff and the commissioner. "Eve's out of danger. In fact she is awake."

A collective sigh of relief was breathed by all. It was the news they all had been hoping and waiting for. "I am going to the hospital to see Eve. Mark, you are coming with me. Ed, you and Carl get out and check that piece of property. We need to know if the killer is the one posing as the owner. Be careful in case it is where he is hiding out. Take a couple unmarked cars with you. Fran, stick with those lists. I know it is harder for you since you have not been working in this office except when I have requested you. Try and tie one of those names with a current or past case. Barbara, stay here with Fran. Dennis, send up a couple officers to keep an eye on these ladies for me, will you please?"

"Alright, Bob," Randall replied.

The phone rang. Ironside grabbed it. "Ironside." As he listened, a frown become apparent on his face. "Jimmy, get a team over to Golden Gate Park right away. We'll join you there." He slammed down the phone.

"What's going on, Bob?" Randall asked.

"Change of plans. Mark, stay here and help Fran. Ed, you and Carl come with me. Jimmy said one of his detectives in homicide did not report back in this morning at shift change time. He just got a call telling him his officer could be found in Golden Gate Park."

8.3

Ed pulled the chief's van into Golden Gate Park. It was already crawling with police. As soon as Ironside's van was noticed the officers started directing the van toward them. Ed followed the officers. When he reached them he rolled the window down.

One of the police officers approached the van. "Chief, the body is straight ahead, Sgt. Conner Ashcroft's body. It was the Moonlight Killer alright. Same MO as all the others."

Ed pulled the van forward. When they reached the army of police he pulled the van to a stop. Before he had the vehicle stopped Ironside was already in the lift and being lowered to the ground.

Ed, Carl and Chief Ironside headed to the body. Lying on the ground was Sgt. Connor Ashcroft. Protruding from his chest was the same butcher knife that had been found in all the other victims. The only difference was underneath the cardboard moon was money, hundred-dollar bills.

"Where was this officer supposed to be last night?" Ironside asked.

"Right here in Golden Gate Park. He was one of three cops who were watching the park in case the Moonlight Killer showed up with a body," Carl said.

"Then he was killed here," Ironside said. "The killer must have surprised him. Was he hit on the back of the head?"

"Yes, he was, quite hard as a matter of fact. Chief, I think this time he might have been dead when the killer jammed the knife into him. The whole side of his scull is caved in," Ed said.

Ironside reached down and turned the dead officer's head. Sure enough his scull had been caved. "Is there anything around here that could have been used that would cause this kind of damage?"

The police officers that were on the scene indicated they could not find anything. Ironside scanned the area and settled upon a large rock that was under a bench. He wheeled over to it. It appeared to have a red substance on it. "Ed, get over here."

Ed walked quickly over to Ironside. Carl joined him. "That rock under that bench, pull it out and don't leave any prints on it," Ironside ordered.

Ed pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket. He got down on his hands and knees, reached under the bench and pulled the rock out. When he turned it over it became apparent it was covered in blood. He showed it to Chief Ironside. "Looks like this is what he used, Chief."

Ironside glanced back at the body. "Bring that with you and follow me." He wheeled back to the body. "Turn his head." One of the officers reached down and did as Ironside asked. Ironside looked from the officer's head then to the rock. "No, he did not use this rock. Look at the head wound. He was hit with something much smaller. Look at these indentations. They are circular and small in size. The killer hit him repeatedly with something smaller than this rock. But why cover the rock in blood and try to conceal it under that bench?"

Ironside wheeled back to the bench. He looked as far underneath the bench as it would allow. "Ed, Carl, move this bench out of the way."

Ed and Carl each took an end of the bench and lifted it. They moved it several feet away and returned. Ed bent down as Carl looked on. He felt the ground.

"That has been dug up recently," Ironside observed. "Get a shovel over here," he shouted. One of the officers brought over a shovel and handed it to Carl. He looked back at Ironside who nodded toward the spot and said, "Dig."

Carl looked at Ed. "Why couldn't they have given the shovel to you?"

"Just lucky I guess." Ed grinned.

"We don't have all day, gentlemen," Ironside boomed.

One of the officers came over with another shovel and handed it to Ed. Carl was grinning from ear to ear.

"Today, Sergeant!" Ironside yelled.

Ed shook his head and started digging. For the next ten minutes Ed and Carl dug into the ground deeper and deeper. Nothing was coming up but dirt. "Chief, there is nothing here," Carl complained.

"Keep digging," Ironside barked. He looked back at the body and settled his eyes on the hundred-dollar bills that were stabbed into the body of Sgt. Connor Ashcroft. There is something there, Ironside thought. Money. That is what is there. Lots of money. He was sure of it.

Ed rammed the shovel down in the growing hole and thump! It stopped. "Chief, I think we just hit something." He and Carl concentrated on the area where Ed had hit something solid. Within a matter of minutes they were pulling up a large box. Carl got down and dragged the box out of its resting place.

"Bring that over here," Ironside ordered.

Carl walked over to Chief Ironside with the box in hand. Ironside took it. He tried opening the box but it was locked. "Get something to pry this open with."

A police officer reached into one of the patrol cars and brought out a crowbar. He handed it to Carl who proceeded to force the box open. When the lid opened, money fell to the ground. Ironside had been right. The box was full of money.

8.4

Ed pulled the van into the hospital parking lot and parked in a handicapped parking spot. Ironside was coming down in the lift when Ed got out and walked around the van. He dropped in behind the chief's wheelchair and pushed his boss into the hospital.

Ed and Ironside wheeled down the hall of the fourth floor. Eve had been moved to a private room. When they arrived at her room two uniformed police officers greeted the chief with a nod. Ed opened the door and Ironside pulled his wheelchair through the door.

When Eve saw the chief enter her room relief rushed over her. Chief Ironside always made her feel safe and secure. Her love for her friend and boss was strong. She knew the chief had taken a personal interest in her career and life from the time they met. She reached out her hand.

Ironside wheeled directly over to her bedside, took her hand and kissed it. "You gave us quite a scare, young lady."

Eve smiled at her boss. "Sorry, Chief. I did not mean to." She looked into the deep blue eyes of her boss that seem to be more watery than usual. She smiled at him. "I'm glad you are here."

Ironside returned her smile. "So am I." He held her hand in his and squeezed gently. "I guess I don't have to bust you to traffic control after all."

Eve looked at him a bit confused. "What?"

He smiled again. "Never mind. It's not important. Eve, who attacked you?"

Eve's eyes began to tear. "I can't remember. Chief, I know I knew him. I remember looking into his face and I knew him. I just don't understand. I can't remember his face. I have tried, Chief. I have thought about nothing else. I just can't remember."

Ironside patted her arm. "Don't worry about it. It will come back to you. You have been through hell. It's not a wonder you don't remember. Just rest. That's an order, Miss Whitfield."

Eve noticed Ed standing back by the door, "Ed!"

Ed walked to the other side of her bed and took her other hand. A bit choked up he said, "You need to get back to the office. The chief has not done anything but complain about the coffee. You're the only one that can make it to satisfy him."

"The secret is in the pot," Eve revealed. "Don't wash it. He likes the coffee brewed in the dirty pot. Says it gives it flavor."

Ed smiled. "So that's it, huh?"

Eve looked back and forth between Ed and the chief. "What's happening with the case? Do we have the man in custody yet?"

Ed opened his mouth to say something but Ironside interrupted him. "There will be plenty of time for that later. Ed, excuse us, will you please?"

After Ed left, Eve looked into Ironside's eyes. "What is it, Chief?"

"I almost lost you. The last time you were shot I gave you the choice of me not signing the paper to allow you to come back to work…"

"Don't you start that, Robert T. Ironside. I went to the police academy and earned my way to this job. I work for the best detective in the police department and that is where I am going to return when I get out of here."

"I just don't want to see you get hurt again," Ironside said quietly.

"Chief, don't you think that Ed, Mark and I feel the same way about you. Don't you think there have been times when we were worried sick about you? Remember the time I visited you in the hospital the night before your operation that we hoped would make you walk again?" Eve reminded him.

Ironside knew where this was going. "Yes," he said.

"I got all emotional and instead of me being there for you, you comforted me. And then you said now that's enough. Do you remember that?"

"Yes," Ironside said.

She squeezed his hand and then reached and placed her hand on his cheek. "Well…that's enough."

Ironside smiled. "Alright, Miss Whitfield. Just remember I gave you an out."

"I don't want an out. I want to come back to work," Eve said.

"Then that is exactly what you will do…once you have recovered. In the meantime…rest." He let go of her and started to turn his wheelchair.

Eve reached out and put her hand on his shoulder. "Someone once told me that the longer I worked this job the more it would break my heart. What he forgot to tell me was part of the reason the heartbreak is worthwhile is because you work with the right people who are just as dedicated to protecting people as I am. They care about me as much as I do about them. That makes the heartbreak worthwhile. I work with the right people, Chief."

Ironside smiled and nodded. Without looking back, he wheeled his chair out of Eve's room.

8.5

Most detectives would not be able to figure out what everything meant. But then Ironside was not most detectives. He was one of a kind. It would not be long now and he would face Ironside again. Last time Ironside outsmarted him that night in his office. But he had learned so much and planned so much since then. Soon Ironside would pay with his life. This time would be different. The Moonlight Killer turned out the light and went to sleep.