A/N Thanks as always for your reviews, PMs and emails! -x-

Chapter 8

Too little, too late

Ironside's Plymouth pulled up outside the boarding house with a screech.

'Let's make this quick,' Ironside said impatiently. 'It's late already.'

'Maybe he's not back,' Carl suggested, getting out of the car and looking toward the door.

'Where did you leave him?'

'Near Ricky's. Ten blocks, that way.' Carl pointed to their left.

'It doesn't take all afternoon to walk ten blocks,' Ironside replied.

'That's assuming he wanted to come home and didn't try to walk to Texas.'

Ironside didn't react to Carl's attempt at humour.

As they walked up to the door, he thought about what they'd find at Channel 6, and who would be the best person to speak to. He had to get in, get the tapes and get out. If he could avoid talking to Miss Schiller at all that would be the ideal outcome, but he was also realistic enough to know that that was very unlikely.

He looked round at his sergeant, and Carl had a slight, nostalgic grin on his face.

'It's been a long time,' Carl said, knocking firmly on the door. 'Mrs Parker runs a tight ship. Was she here when you were?'

Ironside shook his head.

'Different days,' he replied. It had been more formal, less private and more uncomfortable, but he had only stayed for a couple of months before moving out to his own place. Not every member of the force passed through these doors, some men had families and some had their own lodgings, but a significant number did. There were always men who needed a roof and some hot food at night, and Mrs Parker provided it.

'Man, she'll be sixty by now,' Carl said, still smiling at the memories. 'She always fussed about the noise. She fussed about the smoke as well. She fussed about most things. I had to sneak out the window a couple of times when I was seeing Marie.'

Carl didn't notice the Chief's look of surprise.

'And we had to play cards for matches,' Reese continued, lost in nostalgia. 'There must be a whole squad of policemen who still play cards for matches, just in case she finds out.'

This time, Ironside smiled as well. They stood for a moment in silence.

'And did you always leave people waiting at the door?' he asked.

'Maybe everyone's turned in,' Reese suggested. Ironside looked at his watch, then back at his sergeant. 'Well, I did say maybe!'

He knocked again.

They kept waiting and at last there was the sound of footsteps from inside.

'Whaddya want?' demanded a muffled voice. The Chief and Carl exchanged a surprised looked.

'Why don't you open the door and ask me to my face,' the Chief said loudly.

There was an incomprehensible mutter in reply that sent a sharp pulse of anger through Ironside. The door still didn't open.

'Open the door this instant, officer!' he said, his voice rising.

There was more muttering, but then there was the sound of bolts being slid back. Again, Ironside and Reese exchanged looks, this time more anxious than annoyed. People didn't usually bolt doors so early in the evening.

Very slowly, the door opened a crack and Officer Dalton Smith peeped round the edge, looking both extremely surprised and extremely uncomfortable. He looked at them for a moment, his eyes flicking nervously between the two men.

'Chief Ironside?' he murmured.

'Officer,' Ironside growled. 'Well?'

'Um, sir? I mean, yes?' he stammered, still looking from one to another. He didn't open the door any wider.

They stood there, on the doorstep, for a few seconds and with every passing moment Ironside became more disgruntled. He waited. And waited, glaring at the young man, watching him.

'I think you're supposed to ask us in,' Carl said gruffly.

'Oh, yeah, if you're sure, sir,' he mumbled and stepped back with a self-conscious shrug. Ironside still glared at him, thinking that the man couldn't have acted more suspiciously if he'd tried. What was going on here? Whatever it was, it wasn't good.

Shaking his head, Ironside stomped forward, striding confidently inside, looking around. Of course, he'd been here in passing any number of times and he knew Mrs Parker by sight and by reputation. He understood why the men who had stayed here spoke about it with affection.

The hall was plainly decorated, homely more than fine, and he could smell stale smoke and fresh-cooked pie, along with a hint of furniture polish and bleach. But what he hadn't expected was the deeply unpleasant atmosphere, tense and electric. He could almost feel the static crackling off the walls and the furniture.

Something had gone down here, very recently. Ironside didn't need to be a Chief of Detectives to know that. He just hoped he'd arrived before anything serious happened.

Following his instinct, Ironside walked through to the lounge to find three men, the other friends of Ed Brown, huddled up together as if they were having a secret meeting. Dalton Smith followed Ironside and Reese through, and moved round to stand with the others.

The four young men stared in nervous horror at the Chief, who gave them a polite smile, followed by a hard stare. He waited, letting them sit there sweating, watching the way they reacted to his presence. There was a strange satisfaction in the way they looked at him, a cross between respect and the kind of terror only a very senior officer could instil in a patrolman.

They might try to hide it, but he knew something had happened. And it wasn't hard to figure out who was at the centre: Ed Brown, the person they'd left to struggle to the funeral on his own. Ironside kept glowering at them, thinking back to the flushed and exhausted man he'd collected from the side of the road. Ed must have come back to this reception committee, and there had been a "disagreement".

He could also see that the men had no intention of telling him what sort of "disagreement" they'd had, and the more they wanted to keep it hidden, the more he wanted to know. And if they didn't want to cooperate, he was going to use every trick he knew to find out, up to and including dragging them off to his office, right now, and suspending all of them.

Beside him, Carl crossed his arms and leaned casually against the door frame, appearing to be relaxed. The Chief could tell he was angry, his shoulders were hunched and his expression was cold. Inside, Ironside smiled. He could count on Carl to back him up with this, the sergeant was as anxious to find out what had happened as he was.

As the Chief waited, he looked at each one in turn.

Sam Delaney was a short man, with the build of a good football player. Not the most sociable, he kept to himself around the department. A solid cop in the mould of Sergeant Anderson, he got on with his work with diligence but not enthusiasm. Tonight, he stood by the mantle, nervously toying with an empty glass. And it was clear from the angle he was standing that he was drunk.

Jerry Egan sat awkwardly on the seat by the window. He was more like Brown; not just in looks, being handsome, lean and tall, but he was also friendly, conscientious and capable, good at taking orders, and someone Ironside thought would have a long and productive career in the force.

Opposite him, Larry Carr leaned back in his chair, returning the Chief's cold stare with the faintest hint of a smirk. There were few people that Ironside genuinely disliked, but in all honesty, he had never taken to Larry Carr. The man was clever enough to make a decent detective, maybe in Fraud or Homicide, but there was also something a bit too entitled about him, a little too self-interested and self-serving, perhaps. And he had a cruel sense of humour. The Chief had known that even before those petty jokes he'd played on members of the department. The ones directed at Ed were the freshest in his mind, but Larry tended to pull pranks on anyone, regardless of how appropriate it was. Few of them were amusing.

Standing at the back behind the others, Dalton Smith completed the quartet. He was a few years older than his friends and popular in the department. He was smarter and more imaginative than the rest, including Brown, quick on the uptake and good at putting facts together, a natural detective in a way that few others were. The only downside to his personality was a tendency to arrogance, and a deep-seated dislike of being told what to do.

At last, Ironside's gaze came to rest on Jerry Egan, who appeared to be the most nervous of the group. He waited as the man grew steadily more uncomfortable. At last, Egan gave a loud gulp and spoke.

'What are you doing here, Chief?'

Ironside flicked up his eyebrows, and Egan shrank back into his seat.

'Where's Brown?' he demanded.

He kept his tone as neutral as he could, wanting to gauge their reactions. Egan, Smith and Carr all looked at Delaney. Ironside copied them. A suite of conflicting emotions passed over Sam's face. Being drunk wasn't going to help him keep his cool, that was obvious.

'Not seen him,' he said with a slight slur. 'He's not here.'

'How do you know he's not here, if you've not seen him?' Ironside asked in a reasonable tone. Delaney had no answer. There was a deeper silence.

'I need to bring him in,' Ironside said, again looking at their responses. He'd made it sound as ambiguous as he could, leaving it open to interpretation. Sam gave an unpleasant smile and snorted. Egan looked uncomfortable. So did Carr. Smith was the only one who didn't react.

'But we've not seen him,' Smith repeated carefully.

That was a barefaced lie, the Chief would have bet his last dollar on it, but the others all nodded their agreement.

'Is that so?' Ironside replied. Egan shifted uncomfortably, drawing attention to himself and was rewarded with a furious look from Delaney.

'We saw him last at the funeral,' Sam said. His lip curled into a sneer. 'But then you know that.'

'Meaning?'

'He came begging to you, didn't he.'

The Chief bristled at the implied insult, but Reese beat him to a reply.

'We found him walking beside the highway,' Carl retorted in a low growl. 'And we gave him a ride, rather than leave him to go the rest of the way on foot.'

Delaney pressed his lips tightly together, looking at the ground.

'And he didn't tell us anything,' Reese added with a layer of disdain in his tone. 'He didn't need to. We managed to figure it out on our own.'

Ironside gave Carl an approving nod, then looked back at the four men.

'You say Brown's not here?' he said coldly. 'We need to be sure.'

None of them moved, and Ironside guessed that they were telling him the truth, at least about that. But he still needed to make certain and that meant checking Ed's room.

'And you can wait while we do,' he added. The four men didn't react.

With a furious huff, the Chief walked out, Carl following him. The sergeant pointed to a plain wooden door, with the word "Private" written on it, off to one side of the main corridor.

'We can find Mrs Parker,' he said quietly. 'She should help.'

Carl gave the door a firm knock.

After a few moments, Mrs Parker appeared, wiping her hands on her white apron. Slim built and diminutive, and dressed in plain, conservative clothes, she had the warmth of a beloved aunt and the cool efficiency of conscientious secretary.

He saw Carl smile and Mrs Parker smiled back, obviously pleased to see him again.

'Mr Reese!' she said, her accent was pure, old-fashioned San Fransisco, born and bred. 'Such a long time. Such a lovely surprise.'

She looked at the Chief.

'I recognise you, of course, Mr Ironside.'

She held out her hand and he shook it, surprised at the firmness of her grip.

'And what can I do for you today?' she asked.

'We're looking for Ed Brown.'

A look of compassionate sadness crossed her face and she sighed.

'He left for the funeral,' she glanced to the lounge where the other four men were still skulking, 'and I've not seen him since. He should have been back by now.'

Ironside gave a non-committal nod and waited.

'I've been worried, Mr Ironside,' she said, re-wiping her hands on her apron, taking another look towards the far room. Her voice lowered. 'I'm not sure he's slept since you let him go. He's barely eaten, he's not spoken to anyone. It's just like before, when he lost his young lady.'

'Is he here?'

'I'm not sure,' she said, her voice still low. 'I thought I heard him a few minutes ago.'

She crossed her arms as if bracing herself for unpleasant questions. Her expression made Ironside think of a protective den-mother, on her guard against any and all intruders.

'Do you know what happened here this evening?' the Chief asked, more suspicious now of the four men he'd just left in the lounge.

She shook her head primly.

'I'm sure I don't, Mr Ironside,' she said, and he got the fleeting impression that she was telling him off for asking. 'We don't gossip here!'

'We need to see Brown.'

'And I said that I didn't think he was back.'

'Can we check his room?'

Her expression grew colder and she tilted her head up, as if daring him to continue.

'And just why would you want to do that, Mr Ironside? Everyone is entitled to some privacy.'

'We need to find him, as quickly as we can.' He lowered his voice. 'You are not the only one worried about him.'

She looked down to the floor.

'I'm not sure,' she said softly. 'I do have spare keys, but…' She looked to Carl, who smiled reassuringly at her.

'We need to find him,' Reese said. 'Please, Mrs Parker. We just need to make sure he's not here. That's all.'

She pursed her lips, disapproving. There was a brief pause.

'You can knock and see if he is in his room,' she told him, sounding stern. 'But I know enough about the law to know you don't go poking around without a warrant.'

The Chief cast an amused glance to Carl.

'We won't be poking around, Mrs Parker,' Reese replied. 'We just need to check.'

With a final deep frown, she nodded, fishing a large ring of keys out of a pocket. She led them further down the corridor to the room at the end and knocked loudly, then waited. There was no answer so she used her keys to open the door, pushing it wide.

'Oh!' she squeaked, painfully loud, as she looked inside. 'Oh my goodness!'

Alarmed, the Chief stepped past her, half-expecting to see Ed lying unconscious on the floor. No one was there but it was clear from the mess that the room had been comprehensively searched.

Behind him, he heard hurried footsteps along the hall and the other four men crowded round the doorway looking in. There were gasps of surprise and confusion.

'Get them out of here, Carl,' Ironside snapped. 'Now!'

His sergeant hustled them back out, as the Chief looked around the room, despairing of what he saw.

The mattress had been pulled off the bed and cut with a knife, leaving tufts of stuffing around the room. The bed linen stripped off and dumped on the floor. The wardrobe was open and emptied, the drawers pulled out of the desk and their contents tipped out, the small desk lamp lay broken nearby. The few books had been carefully pulled apart, all Ed's clothes had been searched then thrown aside, and his uniform jacket had been cut open and the lining sliced out.

Underneath the window, the contents of the single suitcase were strewn over the carpet. The bits and pieces it had contained, that were meaningless to anyone else but Ed, had been picked up and examined then dropped. In the mess, Ironside noticed a small, cheap trophy that had the looked like it had come from high-school, a bundle of letters that had probably once been tied together with a red ribbon but were now all opened and scattered, and a pair of old-fashioned sunglass broken into two pieces. In the middle of the floor was a broken picture frame, the glass cracked and the picture itself was lying half-squashed as if someone had stood on it.

Avoiding the other objects, Ironside moved over to look at the photograph more closely. In it, Ed was smartly dressed in his patrolman's uniform, standing close to a pretty, dark-haired young lady. He was holding up her hand, showing off the engagement ring to the camera, and had a bright, boyish smile on his face. The Chief almost didn't recognise him. So that's what he looks like when he's happy, Ironside thought.

Beside him, Mrs Parker was looking around, tutting quietly to herself.

'In all my years, I've never seen anything like this,' she said. 'That poor man.'

Ironside agreed, Ed was having a run of terrible luck, but more than his compassion for a friend, this turn of events made him deeply worried. It couldn't be a coincidence that Ed's room had been targeted.

How was this all connected to the shooting? To corruption? And, more worryingly, what if whoever did this hadn't found what they were looking for? What would they do next?

He looked round at Mrs Parker, who was gazing at the mess in disbelief.

'Can you lock this door again, please,' he asked her. 'I'll get someone over to check it out.'

She nodded.

'I wonder where he is,' she muttered. 'And who would do this to him?'

At that question, his thoughts were inevitably drawn back to the four men waiting in the lounge, and his frustration and fury ratcheted up another few notches. Maybe they weren't directly involved, but they had to have some answers.

He stormed out of the room, hearing Mrs Parker lock the door behind him, and stalked back into the lounge, where the men were waiting, casting nervous glances at each other. Carl stood to one side, watching them, his expression mirroring exactly what Ironside himself was feeling. Those men were going to give him some answers, whether they wanted to or not, even if he had to book them all for obstruction and throw them in the cells.

'So?' Ironside demanded. 'What the blue blazes has been going on here?'

There were four simultaneous gulps, but the Chief didn't relent. He glared at the men, each one in turn, watching them like a tiger eyeing up his prey letting them see just how incensed he was.

Visibly, Delaney was the most upset, he was standing at the mantle toying with his empty glass, rolling it back and forth between his hands. Egan sat on one of the seats, motionless, looking at the floor. Carr was sitting back, an ironic half-smirk on his face that just made Ironside even more angry. Smith was watching him nervously.

'I asked you a question!' Ironside hissed loudly. 'Brown's room looks like a tornado hit it.'

'Maybe he-' started Larry, the smirk growing wider, and Ironside sensed a joke coming their way. He stopped it dead with a thunderous scowl.

'I suggest if you find this funny, Officer Carr, then you keep your jokes to yourself. Because I do not find breaking and entering funny. Under any circumstances!' The man shrank back and lapsed into silence. Ironside glared at them again.

'You will tell me exactly what happened.'

'Brown was here earlier,' Delaney said suddenly, his face flushing red. 'We argued.'

Ironside stopped himself rolling his eyes in frustration. Obviously that was what happened. He wanted details not generalities. He needed to know what they'd said and done.

'And?'

'We just-'

'What did you say?' Ironside snapped. 'What did he say to you?'

Jerry Egan gave an awkward cough, not looking at his friends.

'It wasn't a long conversation,' he said, chewing the bottom of his lip. 'Leo's room is just the same as Ed's.'

Carl and the Chief exchanged a quick look. The day of the shooting Carl had checked the room, but had found nothing unusual.

'Someone turned that over as well?'

Egan nodded. Ironside looked to Reese.

'Check!' he said, Carl nodded and was already moving towards the doorway. Ironside looked back at the group.

'We might have suggested that…' Egan ground to a halt.

'You blamed Ed,' the Chief said. It wasn't a question. None of them disagreed.

'He'd just got back,' Egan said. 'He came straight through. We asked him. He denied it.'

'You didn't believe him?'

Jerry nodded.

'We argued some more.'

A look went round the group. So it was that kind of arguing.

'Which one of you hit him?' Ironside demanded, with undisguised disgust. 'Or was it four against one?'

'I-I d-did,' stammered Sam. For the first time, the Chief thought he heard a genuine note of regret from any of them. 'I lost my temper when he said that he didn't. That he wouldn't.'

Ironside could see the regret more clearly. They all knew Ed, and what he was like. The idea that he would go searching around in a dead man's room, for any reason, was ridiculous. And Delaney knew it too. There was a long, painful silence.

'I was so angry with him,' Sam said softly. 'It's all his fault. He started this. If he hadn't begged Leo to swap then-'

'No!'

Four pairs of eyes turned to the Chief. Maybe it wasn't good for the investigation, but he wasn't going to let that misinformation go unchecked. Gossip was bad enough, without it being wrong as well.

'Carelli asked Officer Brown, not the other way around.'

The Chief recognised the shocked surprise on Delaney's face, as the colour drained away and the full implication of what Ironside had said dawned on him.

'I thought, as Ed needed the money, that he had- he had-' He stopped, and looked despairingly to the other three. 'But he was in the wrong place.' He drew a short, stuttering breath. When he spoke next, his voice was choked with emotion. 'I don't understand. I thought-'

'I understand,' interrupted the Chief, hiding his disgust under glacial fury. 'I think I understand perfectly. You assumed the worst. You didn't bother thinking, or asking him. You blamed him and you turned on him.' He paused. 'Have I missed anything?'

Delaney pursed his lips.

'What?' Ironside snarled.

'I, well, might have, made him… leave.'

'Made? How?'

'I threw him out,' Sam whispered, his face white, looking deeply ashamed. 'And bolted the door behind him.'

The Chief was beyond mere anger now and he struggled against the need to unleash his full incendiary fury on the four of them. But there were more important things to be concerned about and that helped him keep control. He could be furious later, once he'd found Brown and gotten the answers he wanted. He didn't have time for this now.

Delaney opened his mouth, but the Chief stared him into submission.

'Don't say a single word of justification,' he growled. 'I want clear, straight answers, and then I might think twice about suspending every single one of you!'

They all nodded.

'When was Brown here?' Ironside demanded.

'About ten minutes ago,' Delaney said. Again, the other three agreed. That answer sent a flash of irritation through the Chief. This had only just happened. No wonder they all acted so suspiciously.

'How long did he stay?'

Delaney struggled to reply.

'Minutes,' he managed to say. 'Less than five.'

'Minutes?' the Chief echoed incredulously. 'Minutes?' Silence. 'What exactly did you say?'

Delaney turned away, unable to speak. Dalton Smith spoke instead.

'Sam told him about Leo's room. We, well, we accused him of doing it before he left for the funeral. We thou-'

Ironside stopped him with a look, daring him to continue and try to justify what they'd done.

'When did you find out it had been turned over?' he asked.

Smith looked to the other two, and then shrugged.

'Sam went in there when we got back.'

'And when were you last in there, before that?'

Again, Smith looked to the others, confused. Delaney spoke.

'I went in yesterday morning,' he said.

Ironside blinked in surprise. And these men were supposed to be police officers?

'So it was left unchecked for a whole day before you discovered what had happened.' He gave them an incredulous scowl. 'And you decided that Ed Brown was the only one who had the opportunity?'

Disgust and fury were bubbling under the thin veneer of calm, and he was finding it hard not to start shouting.

'Yes, Chief,' Delaney said, so quietly that Ironside almost missed it. All that did was make him even more angry.

'I should fire all of you,' he snarled. 'Ignoring the fact that you were supposed to be the man's friend, ignoring professional courtesy between cops, you acted without a shred of proof or a moment's thought!'

He looked at the four men.

'That is not the standard I expect from police officers in the San Francisco Police Department.'

'But Ed might hav-'

'Don't you dare use that as an excuse!' Ironside bellowed, having finally reached the end of his patience. 'Don't you dare tell me you thought he was guilty! Because that just makes it worse!'

'B-'

'ENOUGH!' he shouted. 'I don't know what I'm more disgusted at. The way you treated him as a friend, or the way you treated him as a suspect!'

Once again, Sam tried to speak, and Ironside got there first.

'Do you throw suspects out onto the street after assaulting them? Is that how you think police officers behave, Officer Delaney?'

Sam shook his head.

'I know exactly how it was,' Ironside said bitterly, filled with disgust. 'This was a lynching party just to make you all feel better. You knew it wasn't him, you used it as an excuse because you thought he caused Carelli's death.' Ironside paused for effect, narrowing his eyes. 'But he didn't.'

No one spoke. No one needed to.

Unreasonable anger flooded through him once again. But he had couldn't let this distract him. He needed to find Brown. He needed those flamin' tapes as well. And he didn't want to be in the presence of these poor excuses for police officers for a moment longer than he had to.

'You will all be standing outside my office at nine o'clock tomorrow morning,' he said, his voice crackling with restrained fury. 'And you will wait there until I decide to what to do with you. Am I clear?'

There were subdued murmurs of "yes, Chief".

'And there are no circumstances under which you will leave this house until then,' he said. He narrowed his eyes. 'I am quite happy to assign an officer to each of you to make sure that you do as I say. Do I need to do that?'

There were four nervous shakes of the head.

'Then GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!'

The four men vanished as quickly as they could, leaving the Chief standing there fuming, glaring at the empty room. He stood there in silence for nearly a minute, letting himself feel the anger, disappointment and worry, all the emotions of the moment compressed together in a confusing tangle. Then he drew a long breath. He had to push it to one side and keep going. Wallowing wasn't going to help them find Brown, and it wasn't going to help the investigation.

He had taken a few steps towards the front door when Carl reappeared, looking concerned.

'Just the same as Brown's,' Reese said. He glanced down the hallway, but didn't ask anything about what had just happened and where the other officers were. He didn't have to, as most of the neighbourhood would have heard the Chief shouting.

'Let's go,' Ironside said. 'I have to get out of this place.'

He led the way, yanking the door open and stomping heavily down the steps to the sidewalk. He stopped and took another deep breath. It felt better out here, even though the air was thick with moisture and there was a light rain. Anything would be better than inside that house tonight.

His anger at Brown's so-called friends was beginning to cool as he thought through the recent events. He'd come here to collect Brown and ask him some questions. The Chief had different priorities now.

Unsure, Ironside paused, torn in two directions.

He needed those tapes, right now. They should have information, he was certain, and it would help them find the killer. Anderson hadn't made any progress, he needed to get there himself.

He needed to find Ed, right now. Everything he'd learned over the past few minutes just made him more anxious for his officer's safety. There was no guarantee that whoever had searched those rooms had found what they were looking for. And if they hadn't, then the next place to check was Ed himself. But, since Ed had been thrown out, he could be anywhere.

With his back to the door, Ironside looked up and down the street impatiently then checked the time. Brown had about a ten minute head start. He couldn't have gone that far. He turned to Carl.

'Well?' he asked.

'No,' Reese replied. 'I am not well. Not after hearing that. Boy, did they screw up the kid's day.'

'You spoke to him. Any ideas where he would go?'

Carl frowned.

'I suppose that depends on how hard he hit the street,' Reese said. 'I don't think he'd go far. He sounded real tired. I think he might find somewhere quiet to wait it out then try and sneak back in later.'

Ironside nodded. It was possible. But where?

'What's he done since he was suspended? Did he go anywhere?'

Carl shook his head.

'Word is that he stayed in his room. But he looked exhausted, as if he'd been walking all day.'

That made the Chief frown.

'Could be he is trying to walk to Texas,' he said, knowing his worry was showing in his voice. 'And if he is, then we're going to have trouble finding him. The longer it takes the more difficult it will get.'

'This is such a mess,' Carl said, running his hand through his hair, and looking around. 'How is this tied to the shooting? And the man at the cemetery? Do you think he's the one who searched the rooms? Do you think he might go after Brown? Do you think Brown knows anything about this?'

A number of unpleasant possibilities passed through the Chief's mind. It was unlikely Ed would have had the chance to go back to his room, and that wasn't what the others had said happened, and so he wouldn't know of the break in. If that was the case, then he wouldn't know that someone might be looking for him. It had already been a tough day for the man, and now all this would add to the pressure.

'I'm not sure of any of answers,' Ironside admitted. 'But I'd like to find Brown and speak to him, rather than speculate about it!'

Carl gave a nod of agreement, then his demeanour changed, as if he'd just made an important decision.

'Look, Chief,' he said firmly. 'Just leave it with me. The kid's not been gone for long, and shaken up like that he can't have gotten very far.' Carl's face grew stern. 'I'll take care of it.'

'On your own?' Ironside flicked a glance back to the boarding house. It was a big job for just one man. Carl could do with some help.

'Them?' Reese said doubtfully, gesturing to the closed door. Ironside gave an ugly snort, shaking his head.

'No! I wouldn't trust them with anything more complicated than breathing,' he replied sourly. 'We can call Bill and-'

'You don't have to,' interrupted Carl. 'I can find him. Right now.'

Ironside shook his head, doubtful and anxious about the suggestion.

'Getting men here will take time,' Carl said reasonably. 'And I can start right now. I can get help. I know someone, and I trust him. I'll make a call and he can meet me in just a few minutes.' He paused, knowing Ironside was wavering. 'I can find Brown.'

The Chief didn't like this idea. But he also didn't want to involve others from the department, at least for the moment, considering the rest of the case. And, in general, he liked to avoid full-scale manhunts for one of his own officers.

He looked at the stern, worried face of his Sergeant, seeing a determination there that made him feel more confident, and gave a terse nod.

'Start close,' Ironside told him. 'The streets. Then try the park. And ask the local pushers, they're likely to keep an eye out for an easy mark.'

'What about the hospital? Maybe he was hurt.'

Ironside hesitated, then shook his head.

'Last resort, I think,' he said. 'He's not going to want to go back there any time soon.'

'Okay, Chief.'

'You have half an hour, Carl.' He gave his sergeant a serious look. 'If you've not found him by then, you have got to call it in. Get everyone on it if you have to.'

As the sergeant handed him the keys to the Plymouth, the rain started to spatter down in thick, heavy droplets. Reese looked up in surprise, then pulled his jacket tight around him.

'I'm heading to Channel 6,' Ironside said. 'Find Brown.'