Chapter 2

With Hindsight

The Chief watched impassively as Officer Brown staggered out of the office. As soon as the door had swung shut, Ironside slapped the folder down on his desk in frustration.

This whole operation was a flamin' disaster from start to finish, and one that had left an officer dead, an officer suspended, and a dangerous, ruthless and violent man still out there, in his city, ready to cause more damage. How could a textbook operation like this go so wrong? It had been too good a chance to miss, to get that suspect off the streets. Burwell's source was one of their best, and they had worked it out to the last detail, arranging their officers in such a way to cut off any escape. Or so he'd thought.

With an angry huff, Ironside stepped out from behind the desk and started to pace, going over to the far window then back to the desk, taking slow measured steps. He needed to stretch his legs and give himself a chance to calm down and think.

Early this morning it had all looked very different. He'd thought he'd left nothing to chance. At the last moment he'd changed his mind about who to put at the back alley. Brown was the perfect choice, someone the Chief had thought diligent and reliable, and not prone to panic. Carelli had been too volatile and too quick to pull a trigger. He didn't want the suspect dead, he wanted answers, and he'd put Brown there because he trusted the young officer to do his job.

The thought made his anger flare again, and the Chief continued to pace, muttering to himself.

It was all wrong. The whole thing was wrong. This was a bad decision, the latest in a long line of poor decision-making when it came to this case, and he was angry as much at himself as the foolish and gullible man who had just left. Shouldn't he have foreseen this?

The thought made him more annoyed. On the face of it, he had completely misjudged Brown. Had he let his compassion for Ed's loss cloud his good sense? Ironside didn't believe that. He had trusted Brown would do what he was ordered, and hearing what he'd said of the confrontation with Carelli just made him more angry and more frustrated at how this had gone down.

Ironside stopped suddenly beside the window, crossing his arms and looking out to the street below. This was all wrong. He could feel it as surely as he could see the cars and the people outside. There was something about what had happened this morning that made him very, very uneasy.

He had felt it the instant he'd read the report and seen the pictures of the hotel. He'd seen crime scenes for years and one look at that alley made the hair on the back of his neck prickle like a spider was crawling over him. The call he'd taken from the coroner before he'd spoken to Brown had only made the feeling more acute.

Suspicious: That was the right word. He'd been suspicious about the whole set up from the beginning. It felt too easy, almost contrived, but the chance to take the suspect down was too good to miss. He frowned at the thought.

Burwell's tip was from an impeccable source. They had the place and the time, all wrapped up in a neat bow. It was unusual, though not unheard-of, but he hated it when these sorts of cases fitted together as snugly as a jigsaw.

The only piece that hadn't fitted properly was Brown. And now, after hearing what Ed had to say, he could feel the puzzle disintegrating under his hands as if it had never been there in the first place.

That ridiculous story. Ironside shook his head in dismay. What the blue blazes had the man been thinking? He shook his head again, a heavy sinking sensation in his heart. He couldn't be sure, but having heard Ed's report, he had a horrible feeling he knew exactly what the man had been thinking. The broken, crushed look on Ed's face had told him all he needed to know.

Nevertheless, he'd pushed Brown as far as he could. In the circumstances, he'd had no other choice. Pressure makes a good cop and breaks a bad one, and the Chief had to know how much Brown could take. A gut feeling was one thing, but you only knew when you tested it out. He'd been deliberately hard on him, but what else could Brown have expected?

Thanks to the Commissioner, a suspension was his only course of action without firing the man. And he didn't want to fire Ed Brown. He instinctively felt that, in spite of what it looked like, there was something else going on. The call from the coroner was the starting point, and now Ed's statement just added fuel to the possibility that Brown had ended up in the worst place at a very worst time.

The Chief thought back to the look on Ed's face as he'd told his sorry tale of utter stupidity. Ironside didn't believe he was making it up. The young man was in shock, that was clear enough. There had been a few moments during the interview when Ironside had been worried Brown was going to faint. In that condition, sustaining a lie was no simple matter. Ed had looked and sounded sincere.

Besides, no one in their right mind would make up such a ridiculous story. But now he had heard it, at some point this afternoon he would have to go to Commissioner Sewell's office to explain what had gone wrong and Ed's statement had only made the waters all the more muddy and confused. He didn't want to repeat what Brown had told him. It was an embarrassment. And Sewell would tell him that, and then tell him to get rid of the officer concerned without delay, before he could bring any more disrepute to the Department.

That was what the Commissioner was going to say, he knew it. But just because that was what Sewell wanted, didn't make it right. Because there was more. Nothing about this was straightforward, and that thought took him right back to the start again.

Ironside stood thinking and rethinking the day's events as time passed, trying in vain to find a better explanation of all the facts. Unfortunately, it always kept coming back to the same answer, and each time it did Ironside got that little bit more certain and that little bit more angry.

At last, there was a sharp knock at his office door.

'Come in!' he called, still looking to the city outside his window. It would be one of his sergeants. No one else would dare come and disturb him at the moment and Ironside wondered which one of them had drawn the short straw this time.

'Chief.' He recognised Carl Reese's voice and gave a thin smile. So Carl had lost again. That was the third time in a row!

'Andy passed me Brown's statement,' Reese said, once he'd closed the door. 'Fresh from downstairs, with the ink not yet dry.'

'Put it on the desk, Carl,' Ironside said, still not looking round. There was the noise of movement and papers, but Carl didn't leave. Ironside turned, favouring him with a cold stare.

'Is there something you wanted, Sergeant?' he asked pointedly.

Reese licked his lips before speaking.

'I just wondered… if there was… anything… else?' Carl asked in a hesitant way.

'Such as?'

Carl gave a half-hearted shrug, looking shifty. Ironside scowled. He didn't like it when his people started to look shifty. Trouble was not far behind. He looked carefully at the sergeant, trying to decide what was going on, on the verge of losing his temper. He didn't have time for these games today. Reese knew that. So what did he want?

'Is there something you would like to tell me, Carl?' he asked.

'Not exactly,' Carl admitted.

'Not exactly but…?'

'But there is something you should know.'

The Chief didn't like gossip, especially at a time like this, as it was usually just people with over-excited imaginations that leapt to conclusions. Neither Reese nor Anderson took part in any of it, he was sure, however they could also be relied upon to pass on anything that they felt might be important.

'I'm sure the grapevine is working overtime on this one,' the Chief said with a sigh. The tragedy of Ed's loss had fuelled gossip for weeks, and it was only now starting to cool off, thanks in part to the fact Brown looked like he was beginning to recover. Or he had been.

'It's on fire,' Reese said, strong disapproval in his tone. 'But that wasn't what I meant, Chief.'

'So?'

Carl looked nervously around, almost as if he was afraid someone would overhear. When he spoke, he lowered his voice.

'I bumped into the Deputy Commissioner downstairs, while you were still with Officer Brown.'

Now that was a surprise. Dennis Randall should have had no business being over here today. It could only be bad news.

'People don't usually bump into Deputy Commissioner Randall,' Ironside observed with a wry smile. 'You mean he stopped you in the corridor.'

Carl's expression confirmed that statement.

'He mentioned a few things in passing,' Reese said. 'There have been concerns raised with the DA. About the reward. And where you put Brown.'

Ironside gave a very loud and very surly humph.

'That flamin' reward!' he said with a growl. 'It's not going anywhere! Never was!'

And that was another thing that was wrong about this situation. On occasion, generous and community-spirited members of the public offered money to encourage people to do the right thing and come forward. This time, someone had anonymously offered five thousand dollars to the person who could bring this particular suspect in. The word from the DA's office was that he'd been implicated in a nasty incident involving a young family. Ironside had tried to keep a lid on it, but it was inevitable that something would leak out.

'There's a whisper that you put Brown there as a favour so he could get the reward. After all, everyone knows how much he needs the cash now.'

'Brown is not the only officer in this department who is short on money, Sergeant Reese!' Ironside snapped.

Carl offered no opinion and glanced to the floor. Message delivered, he edged towards the door and away from his irate and easily annoyed boss.

'No, Carl,' Ironside said suddenly. 'Stay. I need you for something.'

'Chief?' Carl didn't look pleased. 'I was just about to-'

'Take a seat.'

It was an order not a request, Carl knew it. As he sat in the nearby chair, Ironside turned to look back out of the window again, tapping his foot impatiently, ignoring his sergeant for the moment.

Being suspicious was one thing, but he had to figure this out. The call from the coroner was the first piece, and that could have just been chance. But now? After what he'd learnt from Ed? That was getting to the realms of being unlikely. Ironside thought back to the report Brown had given of his conversation with Officer Carelli.

One phrase in particular made alarm bells ring: 'Ed, I have to be here.'

That was the exact wording and inflection, and it was the "here" that he didn't like. There were other exits and other, better ways out of that building. None of the officers could have known which one the suspect would use. There was no reason for Carelli to say that.

Unless…

The Chief shook his head, giving a long, slow sigh and walked over to the desk. He picked up the statement Reese had brought and sat down to read what Brown had written. There was nothing to add from earlier, it was the same, almost word for word.

Carl waited patiently for Ironside to finish reading, leaning back in his chair with his arms loosely crossed.

'Did you read this?' the Chief asked when he'd finished, gesturing with the folder.

Carl shook his head, giving the answer Ironside expected. The Chief leaned back, copying Carl's posture.

'Query,' he said. 'Say you're a cop,' a look of amused irony crossed Carl's face, which Ironside ignored, 'and say you needed to persuade a fellow cop to do something for you.'

'Something like-?'

'Say you needed to change duty with him, for some reason. He's a friend. What do you do to get him to agree?'

'So this is a hypothetical question, then Chief?' Carl asked, starting to smile.

'This is an important question, Sergeant,' he said tightly. The smile vanished.

'If we were friends, maybe I'd ask him, straight up,' Carl replied.

Ironside nodded.

'Okay, you do that, and the man says don't be flamin' stupid, I'm not going to annoy my flamin' boss just because you don't want to do the flamin' job you were flamin' assigned.'

Another tiny smile touched Carl's lips, but he disguised it before the Chief could point out.

'Hypothetically? I would find something else to push him with.'

Ironside nodded.

'Such as?'

Carl thought about the question for a few moments before replying.

'A new friendship with the boss?' Carl suggested. 'Maybe I'd say something like, I know you're friends now and getting yourself noticed. How about giving me a shot as well?' He gave a thoughtful pause. 'And a shot at the reward?'

Ironside nodded again, although he frowned at the word reward. Offering money was always a flash point and caused friction.

'Okay,' he said. 'But that doesn't work and I still say no, it's more than my badge is worth. What do you do then?'

'It would depend on how desperate I am,' Carl replied.

Ironside paused. Yes, it would depend on how desperate the situation was. A casual enquiry, wanting to get noticed was one thing, but that wouldn't account for what had happened. Because at the beginning of their discussion Ed had been absolutely clear about what he thought of the idea of disobeying a direct, personal order from the Chief. Somehow, Leo Carelli had found some way of making Ed change his mind.

'You're very desperate,' Ironside said. 'It's vital and you can't let your friend say no. He has to give you this job. Everything depends on it.'

'Everything?' echoed Carl.

Ironside paused again, thinking back to Ed's statement.

'Yes,' he said. 'Everything.'

Carl frowned, pondering the question for a moment.

'Then I'd find some leverage,' he said.

'Like?'

'We're still talking hypothetically?'

'Yes.'

Carl was quiet again for a number of seconds.

'Maybe leverage like a recently-dead fiancee. That would work, I think,' Carl said, obviously finding that suggestion unpleasant. 'I'd say, I'm engaged, and she's pregnant. I need to let the boss see I'm good at this.' Carl gave a deep frown. 'I need the money. And you don't.'

'And?' asked the Chief. 'If I still said no?'

'And if that didn't work and I was very desperate, maybe I'd say that it was a good job his girl wasn't alive to see the way he treated his friends.' Carl paused. 'And I'd keep on rubbing his nose in it until he either gave in or punched me out.'

Ironside looked up at him.

'Hypothetically?'

'Well, in a sense,' Carl admitted with a rueful shrug.

'But that's a damn big risk,' Ironside said, shaking his head.

Of course, that wasn't precisely what Brown had said had happened, but at the start he had been so adamant that he wasn't going to swap. He hadn't given a good reason for changing his mind.

Ironside thought back to Ed's explanation, remembering the words he'd reported.

'I need it,' Leo said. 'Because I have someone who ne-'

Ed had stopped, his normally clear, concise report suddenly becoming vague. 'And then I said yes. So we swapped.'

It was incongruous, and not like Brown, who had always been observant with a good memory. The statement the Chief had just read showed how good Ed's recall was, there was next to no discrepancy between what he'd said and what he'd written. But more importantly, the look on Ed's face as he'd said those words showed how upset he'd been. He couldn't disguise it, even though he'd tried. For a moment the blank, shocked look on his face had been replaced by an expression that the Chief recognised from his own life; unfathomable, uncomprehending grief.

"Because I have someone who ne-" the implication was clear. Carelli had used Anne Carson's death to get Ed to do what he wanted to do. Ironside shook his head in disgust at that thought. That was low and underhand. No wonder Ed hadn't wanted to repeat the rest of that conversation.

'Why would you take such a big risk?' he murmured. He looked at Carl. 'Why?'

'I would have to have been desperate,' said Carl. 'Very desperate.'

Ironside nodded. That was the next problem. Using a personal loss like that against a friend was cruel. If Carelli had used both barrels on Ed to get him to agree, then the question was why? Why do that just for a few thousand dollars? Destroy a friendship in such a painful way, just for cash? The man must have been beyond desperate to do something so harsh.

'I don't like this,' Ironside muttered, keeping a lid on his simmering anger.

'Why?'

Ironside gave a thin smile.

'Exactly, Carl,' he replied. 'Why? Why would you do that to a friend?'

'I wouldn't,' Carl replied, sounding defensive.

'Never? No matter how desperate?'

'If we are still speaking about the same "hypothetical" scenario, then I would have to be somewhere far beyond desperate to pull something like that on a friend.'

Ironside let out a long slow sigh.

'So would I,' he said.

He'd thought Brown had been gullible and thoughtless, and maybe he was, at least in part. But thinking through the scenario, it was clear to Ironside that Carelli would have stopped at nothing to make sure Ed wasn't at the back of the hotel. What would he have done if Ed still hadn't agreed? How far would he have gone?

And finally, why? Why was it so important?

That question was what bothering him the most, because unfortunately he could only think of one good answer to that: Carelli was helping the suspect escape.

That thought made him all the more angry. There was nothing he despised more than a corrupt cop.

'And still hypothetically speaking, here is Brown's statement,' Ironside said, handing Carl the folder. Carl read it, looking increasingly surprised.

'So much for hypothetical,' Reese said after he'd finished. 'Maybe the specifics are a little different, but we weren't that far off.'

'Except the last part,' Ironside said, pointing. 'He stopped.'

Carl nodded.

'So we might be right?'

'I think it's more than might, Sergeant,' Ironside said. 'You didn't see the look on his face.'

The more he considered all the facts, the more convinced the Chief became that he was right. True, Ed hadn't told him the full story, and there was always the possibility that there was more to it. But in reality there were only two options: that Brown was lying and he was somehow in this up to his neck, or that he had told them the truth.

So was Ed just at the wrong place at the wrong time? If that was the case, then suspending him was pointless and maybe even counter-productive. If there were corrupt cops in his department then he needed men he could trust.

'Where are you leading with this, Chief?' Carl asked.

Ironside kept his face neutral and looked back at his Sergeant expectantly, waiting for him to answer his own question. Carl took the hint.

'You think Carelli wanted to be at the back exit for some reason?'

Ironside kept his face straight, still waiting.

'And you think that Carelli wanted it because he-' Carl paused, frowning, showing his distaste for the logical consequence of that thought. 'He knew that was where the suspect was going to be.'

Ironside kept looking, waiting for Carl to continue. Carl gave a huff.

'Carelli was helping him escape,' Reese said.

'The call comes in,' Ironside said, thinking out loud, 'and Burwell gives the orders. Carelli is put at the back door.'

'There was an hour before we went out,' Reese added. 'Just time enough to let someone know and to make the arrangements.'

'Yes,' agreed the Chief. 'He said which exit he would be on. It's all set. But it goes wrong. At the last minute, he and Brown are swapped, Brown is at the back door, Carelli's in the lobby and suddenly Carelli is in deep trouble. He's got to do something. Brown's a good officer, he'll do his job and try to take the suspect in. Carelli can't let that happen. So he takes a huge risk, and pressures Ed into swapping back.'

Ironside frowned at the thought. In spite of the outward signs, Brown was still grieving over his fiancee's death. It was common knowledge, thanks in part to those stupid pranks Carr and some of the others had played on Brown. When challenged, Officer Carr had said he was just trying to cheer Ed up, get him to snap out of it, but few in the Department had found it funny. Ed certainly hadn't, and it had just added to the pressure and attention he'd been getting. Was it any wonder he was sensitive about that subject?

'So Carelli throws everything he can at Brown to get his own way, and Ed gives in, probably to get him to shut up about it.'

Ironside paused again. That's about where Ed had stopped so abruptly. He had looked ashamed, disappointed even. Carelli must have used Anne's death to score points and Ed had finally snapped. There was only so much a man could take in some circumstances. He knew that from his own experience of grief.

'Carelli gets what he wanted,' Ironside continued, feeling more angry with each word. 'Brown leaves and takes the position in the lobby. The suspect comes out and Carelli lets him past. No questions.'

'Carelli thinks he's got through it,' said Carl.

Ironside nodded slowly.

'Now all Carelli has to say is that no one was there. No one can say otherwise, Smith is on the other side of the building and no one else is close. He might even gamble that Ed is not going to admit to swapping either, as it's all gone to hell and no one will know how the suspect managed to leave. No one can pin him with what he's done. He's got away with it.'

'But the suspect decides he doesn't want any witnesses,' said Carl in a sombre tone. 'One shot, that's all.'

'Carelli's dead. And Brown's left with the fallout for not following my orders.'

Carl was shaking his head looking troubled.

'That's quite a suggestion, Chief,' he said with a heavy sigh. 'I'm not sure I'd buy it. We don't have much in the way of proof.'

At last, Ironside gave a slight smile, surprising Reese.

'What?' the sergeant asked.

'I took a call from the coroner before I spoke to Ed,' Ironside said. He arched his eyebrows. 'Just a preliminary, but Carelli was shot in the back.'

'The back?'

Ironside nodded.

'And no exit wound,' he said. 'Clean. Accurate. Low calibre, soft bullet. Very professional.'

'And nasty,' Carl added. Again, Ironside waited as Carl thought through this new information. 'So either he was taken by surprise by the gunman, or he turned his back on him.'

There was a pause, and Ironside watched Carl as the full implication dawned on the other man. His lip curled in disgust.

'He was found facing the back door, wasn't he?' Carl asked at last.

Ironside nodded.

'What if the gunman came out another exit? He came up behind Carelli and shot him because he was in the way?'

Ironside didn't reply and Carl shook his head.

'I know, Chief, I know,' he said. 'The back was a dead end. The gunman had no good reason to go that way.'

'And there is only one reason a police officer would turn his back on an armed suspect,' the Chief said. Carl's shoulders sagged, as Ironside added the clincher. 'Besides, there was also Carelli's gun.'

'Oh, no,' muttered Carl.

'Oh, yes,' Ironside replied. 'Still in the holster.'

Carl was shaking his head slowly.

'That's not a pretty picture, Chief,' he said.

'It is not,' agreed Ironside angrily. 'Not a pretty picture any way you try and paint it.'

Carl was looking to the floor and the Chief could see that he had more questions, probably ones that he didn't want to ask for fear of making his boss annoyed. Ironside waited as patiently as he could for Carl to speak, but it didn't last long.

'Just what is it you want to say, Sergeant?' he demanded, frowning.

Reese's mouth was tight and he drew a deep breath before speaking, as if he was trying to work himself up to asking.

'Speak up, man!' Ironside snapped. 'If you have something to say, you'd better say it!'

'Brown,' Carl said. 'A lot of this, well, it kinda depends on Brown.'

'Meaning?' Ironside said, daring Carl to rise to the implied challenge. He was sure Carl would, he was a good officer and not the sort of man to back down when he thought he should make his point.

'The bullet wound, the gun in the holster, it's circumstantial. But the rest of it only makes sense if you believe Brown's on the level.'

'And do you?'

'I didn't speak to him,' Carl said, reasonably. 'But from reading the report, and with his recent record, I'm not sure I do.'

The Chief kept looking at Reese, but he didn't look away. At last, Ironside gave a slow nod.

'That is a valid point,' he admitted.

'Why do you believe him?' Carl asked. 'I know you like him, and feel sorry for him, but he was on his last, last warning from Bill and about to be suspended for negligence. He slipped up on the basics over the past few months, then he let the suspect in the Phillips case get away by slamming a patrol car into a wall.'

'It's not about liking someone,' Ironside said curtly. 'Or feeling sorry for them.'

'Then what is this about?' Reese asked.

How could he explain? It was his gut feeling, yes, and he was always on the look out for his emotions getting in the way of his instinct, especially with Officer Brown. Ed's situation had struck unpleasantly close to home.

Once upon a time, there had been a beautiful, perfect Mrs Robert T. Ironside, who had been snatched away by a random twist of fate and a drunk driver. But at least he'd had the chance at a married life, even if it was only brief. And at least he'd had an opportunity to say goodbye.

But Ironside also prided himself on being a good judge of his men, and everything about Brown said he was on the level. And in this situation, he trusted Ed Brown.

'He told me the truth,' Ironside said. He gestured at the folder on his desk. 'That statement is ridiculous, beyond ridiculous even. A five year old child could have come up with something better than that. All he had to do was say that he called Carelli over, or that he heard a shout, or anything except what he did say, which makes him look like an incompetent idiot not fit to carry a badge.'

'So?'

'He told me the truth,' Ironside repeated. 'Even if he didn't say all of it. The truth counts for a lot in my book and it's earned him the right at a second chance.'

'And that's it?' Reese asked.

The Chief turned his most formidable glare on the Sergeant, but Carl looked straight back at him.

'Isn't the truth good enough for you, Sergeant Reese?' he asked with a growl.

Carl finally looked away, knowing he'd lost the argument. He sighed.

'So what next?' he asked.

'We work it out,' Ironside said. 'We follow the facts and get to the bottom of it. You and me.'

Carl looked surprised, and then confused, and then he frowned.

'Just you and me? But? You can't think Andy would-'

Ironside stopped him with another glacial stare.

'I don't want Anderson involved. Or anyone else. Not yet. Right now, the less people who know, the better. You and me, that's all for the moment. If we are right about Carelli then I want a lid on this, do I make myself crystal clear, Sergeant!'

Suitably chastised, the sergeant nodded.

'Relax, Carl. You can be sure that if Andy had lost the toss I'd be saying exactly the same to him, to keep you in the dark.'

Reese gave a grudging smile.

'You think there are more men involved?'

'Yes,' Ironside replied firmly. He drew a long, slow breath. 'Carelli started with Brown and the others?' Carl nodded. 'Less than a year ago?' Carl nodded again, more warily this time. 'Less than a year is a little quick for a man to go from rookie to the underworld's new-best-friend without some help!'

The sergeant had no response. As the two men looked at each other, Ironside could sense the confusion and anxiety Reese was feeling. He felt the same, but there was also a growing need to find out what was going on, and he needed as much information as he could get.

'This could be big, Chief,' Carl said quietly. 'Who knows where this could go.'

'Worried, Sergeant?' Ironside asked. When Reese nodded the Chief gave a grim smile. 'Good. Because you should be. It's just the tip of the iceberg.'

Carl sat back in his chair, a serious and sombre expression on his face. They were silent for a few moments.

'Okay, Chief,' Reese said at last. 'Where do we go from here?'

'Get over to the boarding house,' Ironside told him. 'Search Carelli's room. Quick and quiet. Make sure you cover all the bases.'

'Sure, Chief.'

'Then get back here and help Andy oversee the search for the suspect. Keep your eyes and ears wide open. Pay attention to who knows what and who says what. Especially about this morning.'

'Sure, Chief.' Carl paused, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. 'And what about Brown?'

Ironside gave a heavy sigh.

'He's benched at the moment. He'll have to stay that way until we can get him back on the field.'

Carl arched his eyebrows.

'That's not what I mean. The rest of the department is going to find out pretty soon.'

That was true. Something about what happened between Ed and Carelli was bound to slip out. In general, the men were hard on people who's mistakes caused the death of one of their own. But since all the Chief had were suspicions about the rest, there was nothing he could do about it.

'I know,' Ironside said. 'And I wouldn't like to be in Brown's shoes when they do.'