A/N - Thanks for the reviews and the PMs everyone - they are always much appreciated -x-

Chapter 16

Diffusion

'And then it was over.'

Fran heard the Chief's words, the worry and fear in his voice had been obvious, but she couldn't speak. She was shivering, unable to make herself stop.

At first, she had been confused, but she hadn't questioned what was happening, trusting that the Chief knew what he was doing. Ironside had been confident in their destination, and he wasn't a man prone to mistakes. Fran had wondered how he could have been so sure, but after hearing what had happened, she had no more doubts. It was the perfect place for Ed to hide. The thought made her shudder again, and pray in her heart they would find him quickly. They had to.

They were almost at the old Marina and from there they'd go to the warehouse, the place where Ed had been… held. She couldn't bring herself to think of the correct word for what had been done to him. The Chief hadn't been specific with the details, but she knew enough about knife crime to understand what McArthur had done. Shallow cuts to make sure he didn't black out. Ed had been conscious through the whole ordeal. The thought made her feel sick.

She'd had no idea. No one else in the department knew or understood. It was obvious why they'd buried it, the Chief and his staff always attracted gossip, usually in a good way. But something like this would have been incendiary at the coffee machine. It had been the correct decision, but that was also the problem now, she'd not known how each of them had been suffering since that case.

I suppose that explains a lot, Fran thought. Her cool detachment was a surprise. Having listened to what the Chief had to say, most of her was screaming and shouting and raging and terrified, filled with a mass of unstable emotions, each pulling her in a different direction. She wasn't sure how she felt at any one moment, no emotion stayed for long. Nauseated by the thought of what Ed had suffered; scared of knowing what had happened; relieved to be finally told the truth; afraid of what she should say to the Chief and Ed; bitterly angry at the evil men who had put all of them through so much pain just for the chance at revenge.

All these things were there. But the rest of her wasn't like that. She was calm and rational, with a profound sadness and compassion for two men who had struggled through an impossible situation and come out of the other side as different people.

Robert Ironside, a man haunted by a responsibility for something out of his control. He was the one Anthony Richards had tried to punish and destroy by pulling apart his family. Though the Chief had made the correct choices, his decisions had left Ed with McArthur and ended with the confrontation in that warehouse. The guilt for the consequences clearly weighed on his mind, that was frighteningly obvious from the way he'd told her what happened. She'd known him for years but had never seen anything that had hurt him so badly.

Then there was Ed Brown, a man she had impulsively dismissed as aloof and cold was struggling with an experience she prayed she'd never have to understand. How much had it cost him to protect Eve like that? To be forced to go against everything that his personal code told him? To steal evidence and to extort money from one of his closest friends, all the time thinking that Ironside believed Ed would stab him in the back and betray their friendship? And that was before he was viciously attacked by McArthur. For hours. He'd been conscious for the whole time. She shuddered again at the thought. Then somehow at the end, after everything Ed had gone through, he still was a tough enough cop and a good enough man to pull himself together and stop Richards before he killed the Chief.

At that final thought she felt a surge of unspeakable anger, directed at the men who'd put them through such horrors: Richards and McArthur.

As a person on the outside looking in, she could see that the Chief and Ed had both been trapped and manipulated by an expert. Anthony Richards, and only Anthony Richard, had put them in that position: to rise to his challenge or to fail. She saw the hand of an evil man and his twisted desire for revenge, trying to pull Ironside apart.

Richards was dead, but six months on, they were on the verge of letting him win.

That thought made her even more angry. Fran wasn't going to let that happen to people she cared about. Maybe Richards hadn't known what would happen, he might never know how close he'd come to winning. But he'd put them through so much that even if he'd failed that day he would have been sure that somehow the legacy of his actions would live on.

Fran had known of the Chief's team, they were highly respected in the department, and they had always been close. Ironside had always spoken of Mark, Ed and Eve with the fondness of a father. Richards might have died, but he'd still managed to destroy something the Chief had valued beyond price. And he might still hurt the Chief more, if they couldn't help Ed tonight.

They had sat in silence as the van sped along the roads to the harbour. Fortunately there were few cars and Mark drove as fast as he dared. With every second they drew closer to the marina and the warehouse. And Ed. The Chief was looking at the floor again, hands clasped in front of him, thinking. Fran couldn't see Mark's expression, but he was fully focused on driving.

On an impulse, she leaned forward and gripped the Chief's hand again, as tightly as she could. It was improper, an imposition on someone who was very careful about his own space. But she did it anyway as the man clearly needed the support.

'Chief?' she said quietly.

Ironside lifted his head. He looked exhausted, she'd never seen him look so crushed, not even those times she and her father had visited him in hospital after the sniper. Then, he'd had a fire and a determination, a deep conviction that he was needed and he still had work to do. Being confined to a wheelchair was only a mild inconvenience, and it was not going to stop him doing what he believed he had to do.

Fran looked intently at him, not shying away from the pain in his eyes. She wanted to help him find that fire again. She wanted to tell him it wasn't his fault, but she knew that wouldn't work. He knew that the safety of his staff was his responsibility. And in the end, he'd done the only thing he could have to save Ed.

'You did what you had to do,' she said. 'And so did Ed. And so did Mark.'

The Chief didn't react for a few moment, but she kept looking at him, waiting. They had all done all they could in an impossible situation and each one of them was trapped in the aftermath of those choices.

'I know, Fran,' he said, his tone flat. 'That doesn't make it any easier.'

'I don't think anything will make it easier,' she said honestly. That got a small smile from Ironside. He gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

His gaze dropped towards the floor again, but he didn't let go of her hand.

She wanted to help them, but she wasn't sure what might work. She hardly knew them and as the previous few minutes had shown, there was a lot she didn't know about their lives and their friendship. But she was part of their team now and she wanted to do what she could. The Chief was like her father, a man she could look up to and admire, a man she would take guidance from and help when she could. Ed was like an impossible, annoying elder brother who made her mad and got in her way, but would defend her until the end.

And what about Mark? The one forgotten in this, who had watched his closest friends almost be destroyed. How must he be feeling now? She looked around at him again as he drove the van. He was as calm and sure of himself as always, and she marvelled at his composure. She knew they were close friends as well as colleagues, but she hadn't realised just how much the three men meant to each other. Ironside's plan to save Ed had been dangerous for both of them. Mark had been within a second of getting a bullet in his head and he had kept trusting the Chief. Then he had fought to save both Ed and Ironside and done everything he could.

Eve had been just as loyal, a part of a team that would risk their lives for each other. But now she was gone. That was no surprise, it would have been too much for almost anyone, let alone someone newly engaged to be married.

Suddenly, Fran understood her part in this team. She hadn't taken over from Eve, to stand in her shadow and always try and fail to live up to her reputation. She was a member in her own right, and now she was needed in the aftermath of something terrible. There was no other help available, no one else was here. If she fell apart, it might be over for them all. They needed her as much as she needed them.

That insight prompted another as she thought about what the Chief had told her about that case. There was one thing Fran had to ask. She already knew the answer, seeing the friendship the three men shared. But she asked anyway, to make the Chief say it out loud.

'Did you believe Ed was guilty?' she asked. 'At the start, with all the evidence against him. Did you think he would do that, destroy a case, any case, just for money?'

That was the real question, wasn't it? Because that's where it had all gone wrong. The Chief's answer was given instantly, and sincerely.

'No. Never,' he said. 'Ed would never do that.'

There was a look of terrible remorse on Ironside's face and Fran almost regretted asking. Almost.

'Chief?'

'I was too slow that day,' he said, glaring at the floor. 'I reacted as a policeman when I should have followed my gut and got on with it. As soon as Carl stepped into the office that first morning and told me what had been reported, I knew Ed had done it under duress. I knew it. There was never any question in my mind of Ed's loyalty. But I followed procedure instead of trusting my sergeant. Instead of trusting the man I know. If I had been quicker it would have ended before the fire. There would have been no need for…' He stopped for a moment. 'There would have been no need for the rest.'

'Chief-'

'I should have helped him,' Ironside said. 'And I should have seen what he's doing to himself. I should have stepped in before. All he's done is work and it's killing him.'

Yes, that made sense now. Ed had thought himself a disgrace, he'd felt the Chief blamed him for Eve's death. Even though it was a feint to keep Richards blind to the true plan, that must have hurt. Ed's confidence must have been in pieces, and his actions and attitude made more sense now. The obsessive devotion to duty, as well as the early morning attendance at the Kingston Building, and the constant, exhausting, impossible push to do things better all the time. He could never have hoped to keep it up. That he did manage it for the best part of six months was more of a testament to his willpower than his good sense. No wonder he had seemed so aloof.

'No one's infallible,' she said. Ironside opened his mouth to reply, but Fran got there first. 'Not even you, Chief.'

He looked sadly at her for a long moment, then nodded. Reluctantly, he let go of her hand.

'Thank you, Fran,' he said. 'And thank you for coming with us.'

She gave him tiny smile, the best one she could, as she had never felt less like smiling before.

'We won't be long,' Mark said suddenly. 'Just a few minutes.'

Her stomach dropped as she thought about where they were going and what they might find there. What was Ed going to be like? Katie had been a mess, confused and terrified and covered in blood. Ed might be the same. In the basement, she'd seen Ed talk to Katie and try to get her out to safety. It felt like such a long time ago, she could hardly remember the details, except the expression of total concentration on his face. Ed had pushed whatever else he was feeling aside, utterly focused on helping. She should be like that, keep her cool under pressure instead of losing her temper, and make helping Ed her priority.

It was the least she could do. They were colleagues, after all. At the start, his attitude had grated and it was easy to use him as target practice in her grief and anger. She'd often found him unfriendly and disinterested, and had kept him at a distance in the way she hadn't with Mark and the Chief.

Now that she'd heard what happened and knew the truth, was she finally prepared to trust him? Eve Whitfield had trusted him, and what had happened? He had protected her with his life, probably part of his soul as well, knowing the whole time they'd been moments away from a wicked and painful death if anything had gone wrong. And then it had gone wrong and he'd spent hours alone. Tears welled in her eyes again as she thought of what Ed had been through.

She had said something to the Chief, but that still left Ed. What was she going to say to him? Few of their conversations had been easy. During the investigation into her father's death she had been particularly cutting and he had responded in kind. Over the past few weeks she'd barely had a good word to say about him, at least until he'd helped Katie.

And then she heard her own voice, from yesterday as they faced each other in fury on the stairs: "You don't have to stick the knife in".

Fran drew in a sharp breath suddenly, pressing her lips together. She could picture his reaction perfectly. She'd thought he was tired of her naivety and inexperience, when he'd really been unable to cope with an unexpected reminder of something so painful. No wonder he had looked so shaken. She'd blurted it out in irrational anger without thinking. Was there anything more unkind or hurtful she could have said?

She had been so used to treating him as the lightning rod that maybe she'd forgotten that he had feelings too. She wasn't eight years old any more, just like the Chief had told her. No one is infallible. None of them were.

Somehow she was going to make it up to him. They worked together, and Ed deserved better than to have his newest colleague give up on him. He deserved better than to be left to struggle through this on his own. From what she knew about him from the department grapevine, as well as some of her own experience, Ed Brown was a good man who pushed himself to be the best, following in the footsteps of Ironside. He was a man who would not want to let such a terrible experience define him or destroy him. But that was what he was doing, as Ed hadn't confided in his closest friends. Mark and the Chief knew him the best and he'd deliberately hidden it from them.

It was probable that Ed would never confide in her, but now she knew she had to find a way of making sure she supported him. She would start by helping to find him in the warehouse and getting him to hospital.

The van made a left turn off the main street and they passed another car going the other way, almost the only car they'd seen. A minute later, the entrance to the old marina came into view. They were here. They were at the place where Ed had been tortured.

The Chief looked up suddenly. His expression was different and Fran recognised her own feelings mirrored on his face. They were here. The horrific story she'd been told was real, and it made her so unreasonably angry she could hardly breathe. But this time she didn't lash out, as she would have done before.

Somewhere in the darkness in front of them was a man in desperate need of her help. She was going to find a way to help Ed. She would do whatever the Chief needed her to do.

The van screeched to a halt and the Chief turned to glare out of the front window. They had arrived at the old marina. Ahead, somewhere in the gloomy mist, was the warehouse and his sergeant.

The dark night of confession was over. They had to concentrate on the present. Right here and right now. No one was infallible, just as Fran had said, but that wasn't going to stop him being as damned near to infallible as he could be. Mistakes were in the past, he had to learn from them. They were here and Ed needed them to be at their best and help him get thought the aftermath of the explosion as well as the kidnapping.

From the dash, Mark grabbed a torch, flicking it on and off to make sure it still worked. They got out of the van, and the Chief eagerly rolled himself forward, Mark having to jog a few steps to catch up. The street outside the entrance was empty, but the Chief could see the rubber marks from tires where a car had reversed at speed and turned.

They knew where they were going and the Chief lead the way with Mark pushing him. Fran followed behind, a little unsteady on her feet, but her face was like a mask of furious determination. He gave a grim smile. He'd known she wouldn't let him down.

It took almost five minutes to get from the van across to the warehouse at the end. It was more difficult to move along the bumpy wooden boards than it had been last time. Ironside felt a sense of rising anticipation as well as the unpleasant and unwelcome memories.

Telling Fran had been harder than he'd thought it would be, but also it was a relief to share the truth with someone else. Burying it in Internal Affairs was the right thing to do, Murray and the Commissioner had both agreed without hesitation, knowing what it would be like for the officer in question to be dogged by gossip for the rest of their career.

When he'd asked Fran to join his team, he'd almost told her there and then. But there was his operation to consider, as well as Ed's feelings on the matter, not to mention the fact that Fran was still grieving for the loss of her father. The longer he'd delayed, the more difficult and the less necessary it became. Ed had appeared to put it behind him, and though their working relationship was tense, he and Fran were slowly coming to some sort of equilibrium. But it was still the wrong choice. She should have known sooner. It would have helped Ed as well, maybe he wouldn't have been so inclined to overwork if he knew Fran understood. She might even have seen the signs that he was struggling as she could look at the situation with fresh eyes.

They reached the door. It was closed, but someone had clearly broken in, there were scuff marks on the paintwork, and the wood of the frame had splintered by the lock. Mark pushed down on the handle, gave it a firm shove and the door opened. This was it. They had to go through with this. But it was going to be different this time.

'Fran, help me,' the Chief said. 'Mark, go in first and check it out. Find him but don't say anything unless he speaks first. And Mark?' The other man looked around. 'Be careful.'

Mark gave a quick nod, his face as calm as always, then vanished inside. Fran helped guide the chair over the last few loose boards and through the doorway. The building was just like he remembered it, a little bit more battered, but basically the same place they'd been before, and he was still searching for his friend. He shivered.

What now? he wondered. The time in the van had been spent talking to Fran, not worrying about what they were going to find. Now he had to decide on the best way to help his sergeant. How would he get to Ed and convince him that he was here to help? Fran had told them Katie wanted to be safe. Ed might want the same, or he might also respond to the need to help. That was his moral compass, to help and not be helped. "The nice policeman who said I'd be safe". Yes, that was a perfect description of Ed Brown.

Ironside moved slowly, nervous about the state of the flooring as well as what he was going to find. But otherwise it wasn't as difficult to go in as he thought it would be. They were back to the warehouse where Ed had been held by Tony R. There was still a faint smell of gasoline, or was it his imagination?

He could hear Mark moving somewhere inside and see the light flicking left and right, Fran scrabbled inside her bag for a small flashlight.

'All policewomen carry a torch, Chief,' she said, when she saw his surprised expression.

There was no other sound or movement. The Chief moved forward again, and felt the same terrible sinking feeling that he'd had in the office when Erikson had called and told him what had happened. Something was wrong.

'Chief?' It was Mark, and Ironside jerked round to look at the direction the voice had come from, close to the back wall.

'Mark?'

'Chief, get over here!'

Ironside heard the tension in his voice and pushed himself as fast as he could, helped by Fran. Maybe they should have brought an ambulance instead of rushing in. Maybe Ed was in a much worse condition than they've thought, already passed out on the ground and…

Ironside rounded a corner of a box and stopped abruptly, making Fran stumble into the wheelchair. He stared.

In front of him were some crates, some had been moved recently judging by the scrapes on the ground. But others were lying scattered over the floor, smashed into planks. Splinters were everywhere and it looked like there had been a fight. Mark's torch beam moved to the back wall, and Ironside's breath caught in his chest. There was a thick, vertical streak of fresh blood smeared down it.

'There's no one,' Mark said.

No one. The warehouse was empty.

Ed wasn't here.

He had expected the anger, but not the shock, and Ironside suddenly found he had nothing to say, not even about the bloodstain on the wall. What had gone wrong? What had he missed? Was it a hoax, a bluff. Had that Erikson got it wrong? Had Ed even been here at all? Had he misjudge the situation and made another terrible mistake?

'Chief, look!' Mark was pointing to something dark on the floor. Nervously, he picked it up. A dark blue jacket uncurled as he did. They all recognised it. It was Ed's.

Mark handed it over to the Chief. Ed's the wallet and badge were still in the inside pocket. In the outside pocket was a bottle of pills with Ed's name on it from the hospital dispensary. Morphine, and a strong dose as well, and it looked like Ed had taken a few. The Chief looked to his friends, the confusion he felt written all over their faces.

'What's that?' Fran asked, pointing to something in the shadow. Mark was closest and reached down. He gave a gasp, and turned back, lifting the object into the light. Ed's gun, still in the holster.

Desperately, the Chief looked around for something more. But that was it. There was nothing else.

Ed had gone.

An impotent fury stunned him for a moment longer, then he swore bitterly under his breath, words that he usually would never say in front of a lady. He'd missed Ed again! History was repeating itself. How did that man keep getting into these things?

Ironside looked left and right, hoping to see something, anything that would give him an idea of where Ed had gone and what had happened. Mark shone his torch around, the light dancing in circles. Suddenly, just when he was about to give up hope, something embedded in the back wall glittered in the uneven light. Something at shoulder height, metal, just about the start of the bloody line.

Ironside pointed, and Fran moved forward, shining her torch intently at the hole.

'I think it's a bullet,' she said quietly.

Shock and fear can do many things to a man. The Chief had lived his life fearlessly and with a focused determination that had given him the strength to keep going, no matter what. A second of doubt was all he allowed himself. If Ed had been shot, then he was probably dead. There was no reason to keep him alive. He'd left him to die here alone. He'd had let him down again.

No! Ironside told himself. He couldn't let himself give up. Nothing around here said that the shot had been fatal. The blood on the wall was from a superficial wound, not the pools of blood from anything more. With no jacket, and only wearing a thin shirt, a small nick on the arm would be enough to cause that blood stain.

Fran scrambled in her bag again, pulling out a pen and an evidence bag, then stabbed at the wall with the pen until Mark handed her a small penknife. A moment later, she passed Ironside the bag, and he recognised a .357 bullet inside.

Ironside drew a long, slow breath. Ed had been here, the jacket and the revolver told them so. Now he'd gone, and they had to figure out what had happened so they could find him.

'Look around,' he said. 'But be careful. Make sure we haven't missed anything else.'

As his friends searched, Ironside watched blankly, not seeing the movement, but trying to imagine what had happened here.

He had seen so many crime scenes over the decades, all different and yet all the same. What had happened? The information was all here for him to see, if he could only bring it all together. What was he looking at?

Ed had left Erikson and come here, kicking in the door to get inside. Then he had made his way over to this corner and taken off his jacket. What had happened next? He narrowed his eyes, trying to imagine his friend here, maybe sitting against the wall, alone in the dark with just his memories for company. He remembered the look of transcendent joy on Katie's face as she described her birthday party. Maybe Ed had had a similar experience. If that had happened, he could only pray that it had been a good memory.

Ironside shuddered at the thought, but didn't let himself follow that line of reasoning further. It would just be speculation. He had to keep his mind on what was here and now. Ed had been here, and had rolled up his jacket like he'd been using it as a headrest. That would make sense. And if he had been sitting on the floor, his gun would have been uncomfortable, Ironside had noticed the way Ed now shifted it around when he was sitting down for long periods. So he'd taken off his gun, left it on the ground beside him.

All that indicated that Ed hadn't been expecting any trouble. He must have thought he was safe, at least for the time being.

The Chief looked at the splintered crates, feeling slightly sick. Had Ed done this by himself? Maybe, faced with the memories of Richards and McArthur, he'd lashed out in fear. Ironside shook his head. No, the bullet and the blood told them that someone else had been here as well.

And that someone had caused Ed to panic and try to get away. He was looking at the remains of a fight. At some point they'd fired at him, and the bullet had clipped his arm, it was roughly at shoulder height for Ed. He could have staggered back against the wall, and slid down to the ground, leaving the line of blood on the wall. After that, he would have been easier to subdue.

'I can't see anything more,' Mark said bitterly. 'Unless you want me to move that wood?'

'No,' said the Chief. 'No, leave it. It's still a crime scene.'

'What happened to the crates?' Fran asked. 'It looks like a fight.'

'Must have been,' Mark replied.

'But why?' Fran asked.

Why was the wrong question at the moment. Who was the right one.

Who else would know he was here? It can't have been blind chance, he refused to believe that. So who knew Ed was here other than them?

Officer Erikson was the only one. But that was crazy, the traffic cop wouldn't have attacked Ed. He had sounded genuinely worried for his friend and, more importantly, Erikson wouldn't have been stupid enough to disobey a direct order from the Chief. Ironside was certain Erikson would do exactly as he'd been asked.

So who? Who would know Ed was here? A phrase from the call from Erikson came back to him along with sudden understanding. "He says people are following him." Ironside jerked his head up.

'Ed thought he was being followed, didn't he?' he asked Fran. She nodded warily.

'Erikson said that he was paranoid,' she replied.

That was it. It had to be. Ed thought he was being followed, Erikson had put it down to paranoia, but there was another possibility. Ed really had been followed. Whoever it was wanted to make sure he was out of the way. Ironside gave a dry gulp. That didn't bode well for Ed's current health.

'Torch!' he said, holding out his hand. Mark handed him the flashlight.

Sitting around worrying about it was of no help. With a firm twist of his wheels, the Chief turned to go back towards the door, looking carefully at the ground as he did. He moved forward, slowly searching for the small clues to what might have happened. Mark and Fran followed.

The wooden floor itself was old and full of scrapes and notches, but to Ironside there were a few that looked like they were very recent. There were also a couple of places where the splinters appeared the have caught fabric. He couldn't get out of the chair to look closely at them, but from where he was sitting they looked dark blue as well. He didn't ask either of his friends to move them, mindful that this was a crime scene and they had to be careful.

The scratches on the floor led to the door, and the Chief flicked the light around some of the rest of the warehouse, not seeing anything similar anywhere else. So it looked like something had been dragged from the place where Ed had been to the doorway.

The logic was inescapable.

He didn't let himself think any further at that moment. Instead, he pushed himself out of the door and started back along the path, towards the entrance to the marina. There were similar scuff marks on the ground.

Eventually, he turned to look at Mark and Fran, who had followed him outside.

'It looks like something heavy was dragged out,' he said calmly. 'Towards a waiting car.'

'A body?' asked Mark.

Ironside nodded.

'A dead body?' whispered Fran.

'There's no way to tell,' Ironside said bluntly. Unconscious man, or dead body? There was no way to know from the evidence he could see. But he was flamin' well going to assume unconscious man until he was proved otherwise. Besides, if you were going to kill a man somewhere so out of the way, why not just leave him here afterwards?

'Chief?'

'Do you kill someone somewhere so quiet and then move the body?' Ironside demanded.

Neither Mark nor Fran spoke and the Chief continued, relentless in his logic.

'Ed was surprised by someone who had followed him to his hideout.' He pointed back toward the warehouse. 'They had a fight, a hard one by the look of it. They pulled a gun on him.'

'Someone else?' said Fran.

'Yes. Ed's gun was still in the holster on the ground, that bullet is too big for a police issue revolver. The blood on the wall by the bullet is likely Ed's.' He looked back to the warehouse in the misty distance. 'Whoever it was hadn't shot to kill. In the confusion, they took him down, then dragged him back to the car.'

There was a moment's pause.

'Then what?' asked Mark impatiently. He stared at Ironside, furious. 'Then what!'

'I don't know.'

Mark gave an incoherent snarl, slamming a fierce kick into one of the wooden supports at the side of the path, then striding off back towards the warehouse for a few steps. The Chief could see his shoulders shaking.

'Chief?' asked Fran. 'What are we going to do? How are we going to find him?'

Ironside didn't reply, trying to push his personal feelings aside once again and focus on the next step. As much as he wanted to let his anger rip, he knew that would only stop him thinking with the precision he needed to get to the bottom of this.

He had to figure it out. And he had to do it right now. He couldn't waste time, that was his problem. The police team would tell him eventually, he had no doubt that the department would get there in the end, but time was running out. These events were happening too quickly, whoever had executed this was acting and reacting much faster than he was. He was already three steps behind, and wasting more time would only result in Ed being further away.

And he was not going to fall into that same trap again, as he had done last time against Richards. There was a time for careful, considered police work. And there was a time for getting on with it. He had to bring this together now. Ed needed him to figure it out and get it right first time. He couldn't lose Ed too. Not like this. Not after everything. He wasn't going to let that happen.

The smart way, the police way was to follow procedure and to get forensics to go over it, then take it from there. To work the details until they got their man. But he knew they wouldn't be able to tell him anything quickly enough to help. Instinct? What was his instinct telling him?

Now he thought about it, his instinct was screaming the answer at him.

Ironside scowled.

'It all leads back to that explosion,' he said. 'We figure that out, we'll find Ed.'