A/N Thanks to everyone for your messages and reviews! Hope you are all having a good summer :)

Chapter 12

Fortuna Redux

The Chief worked through the night, but managed to grab a few hours rest on the chair in his office. By seven o'clock sharp he was knocking on the Reese's front door, carrying with everything he needed, including the tape from Channel 6.

Carl let him in, greeting him warmly and took some of files and the projector out of his hands, making it easier to move. Reese had a bleary look to him and Ironside wondered how much sleep he'd had overnight.

Although it was early, the rest of the family was awake, as he could hear muffled noises from the kitchen. He looked questioningly at his sergeant who nodded towards the lounge door.

'Ed's still asleep,' Carl murmured, leading him forward. 'We should give him as long as we can.'

Ironside agreed. There were things they should discuss first. He followed Carl along the hall and was greeted by a snapshot of normal family life.

It wasn't a large kitchen, but filled with everything Ironside would have expected, crockery and appliances, notes pinned to the fridge, a bowl of fruit on the counter, a small pile of laundry on a stool by the door, and a young, dark-haired girl sitting at the kitchen table, her back to the door.

Still in her yellow stripy pyjamas, Tina Reese sat swinging her legs and pretending to eat her cereal. When she heard the footsteps she turned and, seeing Ironside, she gave a happy-sounding squeak.

'Uncle Chief!' she squealed. 'Uncle Chief! Uncle Chief!'

'Hush, honey,' Marie said, trying in vain to keep her in her seat. 'Less noise, remember. Our friend is still asleep.'

Tina nodded, but managed to wriggle out of her mother's grasp and over to Ironside, arms up for a hug. The Chief responded to the unspoken request eagerly, leaving the paperwork he carried on a free surface, he picked her up and squeezed her until she giggled. Slowly, he put her back down and pointed at the food.

Tina gave a huffy-sounding sigh and obediently went back to her seat and her breakfast. Her mother watched the exchange with a smile.

'I'm sorry this dropped on you, Marie,' the Chief said. 'But thank you.'

She shook her head.

'There is no need for thanks,' she said, her expression showing her sorrow at what had happened. 'Carl's explained. I understand.'

'A friend of Daddy's is here,' Tina announced, her mouth full of cereal.

'Honey-' Marie started to say, but Tina kept going.

'Someone hurt him,' she said earnestly to the Chief. 'But my Daddy helped him.'

The pride in her voice was unmistakable, as was the flush of embarrassment that spread over Carl's face. Ironside smiled.

'Your Daddy did a good job last night,' he said, looking with amusement at Carl's expression. Tina beamed at him.

'You'll need to talk,' Marie said. 'Here, honey, let's get you into your clothes.'

'Can I wear the blue one today?' Tina asked. 'Ple-ease, Mommy?' It didn't look as if Marie liked that idea, but she nodded.

'Just this once,' she said.

At that, Tina shovelled one last spoonful of cereal into her mouth then jumped off the chair. Marie tried to shoo her daughter out, but Tina was too excited to see the Chief, and bounced up and down like a rabbit, full of the effervescent energy of a six year old.

'We'll leave you to it,' Marie said, catching Tina and picking her up. Resigned, Tina pouted, but happily wrapped her arms around her mother's neck, resting her chin on her shoulder.

As they left, she gave the Chief a little wave. He waved back, watching them leave with a smile. The smile grew wider as Carl blew his daughter a kiss.

'She's taller every time I see her,' Ironside said as the door closed. 'And more like Marie.'

Carl gave a proud, paternal smile, it didn't look like he could help it. Then with a sigh, he shook his head and the smile faded. They sat down at the table, and Carl put the folders and projector down nearby.

'So?' the Chief asked.

'Still asleep,' Carl said. 'The doc gave him the once over last night, left him with some strong painkillers. Physically, he said the kid would be fine.'

Ironside didn't like the way Carl put that, but let it pass for now.

'Tell me what happened,' he said. 'Everything you can.'

Carl shook his head in dismay, as if unsure where to start.

'You left,' he said. 'And I called Nick, you know, from Highway,' It took Ironside a second to place the name, then remembered it was Carl's cousin, who was also a cop but worked for a different section. 'It took him all of two minutes to get there. We checked the nearby streets, and asked around. One of the local kids mentioned the park, that he'd been there each night, just walking. It was the next place we looked.'

'Ed walked round the park each night?' asked Ironside. No wonder he had looked so exhausted.

The sergeant paused, his forehead furrowed.

'It was over by the time we got to him,' he said, sounding more angry than upset. 'You'll see when we go through. Best guess, it was at least three against one. Not much blood, and nothing broken, but it was still a bad trip. They left his key and his wallet, so it's a safe guess that they were looking for something else.'

Carl gestured to the neatly folded pile of clean clothes on the seat by the door. Ironside went over. The top item was a man's suit jacket, black, but the pockets hung loose and the lining was ripped. Every crease and seam had been checked. The other clothes looked like they had gone through something similar.

'Marie was going to fix them last night, but I knew you'd want to see. I loaned him some of mine,' Carl added by way of explanation. 'But they don't fit so well.'

An image of the smart and suave Ed Brown wearing short cut trousers and an ill-fitting jumper flashed across his mind.

'Did he tell you much about what happened? Who they were? What they said?'

'No,' replied Carl. 'He was real shaken up. We got him here. The doc checked him and I let him sleep.'

Ironside frowned. Last night, Ed would have had the details fresh in his mind, and they needed to push as hard as they could for answers.

'Why didn't you push?' he demanded.

Carl's expression became stern and he scowled at the Chief.

'I know a man at the edge when I see one,' he replied curtly.

It was a worrying response, but he didn't argue the point. Carl knew how much this mattered and was the one best placed to decide.

'Did he say anything that might help?'

Carl shook his head.

'Look, Chief, the kid's in a bad way,' he said. 'I know you might not want to hear it, but I don't know how much he's got left.'

That was the last thing Ironside wanted to hear, and was what he'd feared the most. Pressure would make a good cop better, but too much at once could destroy one.

'You can't tell me anything more?'

Carl didn't reply. He looked at the projector and the files Ironside had brought with him.

'I guess you got what you needed yesterday?' he asked.

'Eventually.'

Ironside told Carl everything about his visit to see Rachel Schiller, and how he'd acquired the tapes. He then explained what he and Anderson had done afterwards, checking and cross checking people, and getting the lab to print copies of some frames. It had taken hours.

'And now?' Carl asked when he'd finished.

'You have work to do. Both of you, if you can,' Ironside said. 'I brought blow-ups of some of the people I can't identify. Maybe you can.'

'And what if we do?' Carl asked. 'What's the next move?'

He hesitated, looking at the door. Ironside drew a long breath.

'We need answers,' he said sadly. 'This can't wait any longer.'

Leaving the things he'd brought, they rose and the Chief let Carl lead him through. He opened the hall door very quietly.

It was dark in the lounge, the curtains were still closed giving the room a warm, orange glow. There was the sound of soft breathing.

Ed was lying on his side on the sofa, curled up under a pale blue blanket, still asleep. First glance showed some of the damage. There were thin scratches and bruises on his cheekbones, his top lip was split and discoloured, and there were more ugly, purple bruises down the side of his neck. Ironside could see his right hand had a white bandage neatly wrapped around it. Nothing was broken, but he was battered and bruised, like Carl had said.

As Carl opened the curtains, Ironside sat on the seat closest to the sofa, looking at the young man, struggling to control his fury and disgust at the unfortunate turn of events that had lead them to this point. It was just as bad as he'd feared. They all looked fresh-faced and eager when they first started, but the heartache and responsibility of the past few months had weighed down on Brown. He was only twenty three, but as he slept he looked much, much younger, barely even out of school. Ironside hesitated, knowing that he had to keep pushing, in spite of what Ed had already gone through.

Waking Ed up was one of the most unpleasant things he'd ever done. It felt a cold and callous act to drag the man out of his peaceful rest and back to a world that had treated him so badly over the past few months. But they needed answers and Ed was the only one who had them.

'Ed?' he said quietly.

Brown's eyes flickered, once, twice, then slowly opened. He gave a tired sigh, and blinked. Ironside waited for him to wake more fully then spoke again.

'Ed?'

This time, Brown must have registered who was speaking as he frowned and abruptly tried to sit up. That was a mistake, he froze and gave a loud gasp of pain. After a long moment, Ed moved again, but much more slowly. Grimacing, he swung his legs off the sofa, and pushed himself into a sitting position. Ironside watched in dismay at the deliberate, pained movements Ed made.

'Hey, Chief,' he said. His voice sounded hoarse and low, as if he'd been cheering at the football game all night, but his words didn't slur together.

'Hey, Ed,' Ironside responded, heartened a little by Brown's initial reaction. 'Welcome back to the land of the living.'

Ed huffed in response, rubbing his left hand over his eyes. He looked down at his right one and shuddered.

'Don't feel very alive,' he said. 'Feel like someone tried to cut me in half with a baseball bat.'

As he spoke, he pulled the blanket round his shoulders, still moving in that slow, deliberate manner. He sat at an awkward angle, looking tense and uncomfortable. The clothes were not as terrible as they might have been, the pants were too short, so was the jumper as the sleeves ended a few inches away from his wrists.

'I'll get you something to drink,' Carl said.

The two men waited, not speaking. He returned with a glass of water and a couple of white pills.

'Take these,' Carl said, putting them into Ed's hand. 'Doc said it'll take the edge off.'

Ed inclined his head a tiny fraction, which Ironside took to be a nod of agreement. Obediently, he took the pills with a mouthful of water, then finished the whole glass in one go. He handed it back to Carl without looking up.

'Thanks,' he murmured.

'Pleasure, kid,' Carl replied. 'Need another?'

Again, Ed inclined his head, and Carl left. He was back in a moment with a full pitcher. He pulled a small coffee table closer and put the pitcher on it, and handed Ed the glass. He took a sip, then a larger mouthful.

As Carl sat down, Ironside watched Brown intently, aware that Ed knew he was doing it. He didn't make eye contact with the Chief, just looked blankly ahead.

In his long career Ironside had done many difficult and unpleasant things, he'd asked hard questions in terrible circumstances. But this was one of the hardest to do, demanding answers to personal questions from someone who'd just lost everything. He understood now what Carl had meant. The young man in front of him was physically and emotionally shattered, anyone with eyes could see that.

But they still needed to push. He couldn't let his compassion overrule his good sense, they had to get the answers they needed, even if he hated himself for doing it, and even if Ed ended up hating him too.

Ironside took a deep breath and mentally steeled himself for the conversation, acknowledging his burning fury at the people who'd brought this on his friend. But he pushed it away. His anger was useless right now, helping Ed get through this was what mattered.

'Ed?'

Ed glanced at him, and Ironside nearly had to look away from the intense, raw emotion in his eyes. But he didn't. Ed had few enough friends at the moment and he needed the Chief to stand at his side. Pulling away would only cause the man more distress.

'We need to know what's happened. Everything you can tell us.' Ironside waited, then added:

'You can start at the beginning. Your argument with Leo Carelli.'

Ed looked crest-fallen at the suggestion and didn't respond, nervously rubbing his left wrist with his bandaged right hand. Ironside noticed the tan line where his watch used to be and suddenly understood what that meant. Ed's watch must have been stolen when they worked him over. The realisation sent a cold stab of sorrow through his heart. Ed had worn that watch for months, the Chief had never seen him without it. It was no secret that he'd had to sell some possessions to make the rent, but he hadn't sold that, even though it was an expensive brand. Ironside frowned, trying to remember the make. An Omega? Yes, it was a new-style DeVille with a silver strap and casing, and a cream dial.

Ironside gave an internal sigh, and his sorrow grew more intense as he followed the thought. A present was the simplest explanation. And considering the expression on Ed's face each time he looked at it, Ironside had little doubt that it must have been from his fiancée. It was gone too. He was never going to smile again. The man had nothing left.

That thought fanned his own anger and made it even harder to ask the next question. Once more, Ironside steeled himself. He was doing Ed no good by hesitating.

'You didn't tell me everything in your statement,' the Chief said. 'But you need to.'

There was a pause before Ed managed to speak.

'I know,' he whispered. He looked at Carl then back to the Chief, almost as if he was going to ask Carl to leave. But he didn't, instead he closed his eyes, and the Chief let him take his time. Ed sat like that for a minute before he opened them and started to speak, his voice still hoarse and unsteady.

'Leo,' he said. 'You're right. He said more to me, before.'

Ed stopped, turning away from Ironside towards the side wall, and crossed his arms over his chest. This was going to hurt, they all knew it, but again Ironside waited in silence until Ed was ready to continue.

'I can't remember exactly what Leo said, most of it's a blur,' Brown told them. 'But he spoke about A-Anne.' There was another long pause. 'He told me she would be disappointed that I didn't help him. That s-she would have been disgusted at me turning my back on a friend. That s-she would have been s-shocked. Sh-she wo-would ha-have…'

The sentence came to a stumbling stop.

'That's enough,' Ironside said. It was just as he'd suspected and they could figure out the rest without needing Ed to say it. He looked at Carl, who was shaking his head in disbelief.

'That's low,' Reese growled. 'What a fu-'

'Enough!' Ironside said more loudly. Carl stopped, looking disgusted and furious.

Ed leaned forward, resting his forehead on his left hand, unable to hold the Chief's gaze.

'I shouldn't have agreed,' he said, his voice shaking a little more. 'I just wanted him to get away from me. He made me feel like I had no choice.'

There was another pause, Ironside could see how hard the man was finding talking to them. He wished there was another way, but it had to be said so they could get through this and move on.

'I know I was wrong,' Ed murmured eventually. 'I knew it at the time and I shouldn't have given in.' He sucked in a quick breath. 'I'm sorry, Chief.'

Ironside nodded, hating himself for having to push like this and get the answers he needed. He was convinced now that if Ed hadn't swapped, they would be looking at two bodies not one. Faced with an unfriendly officer, the suspect would have shot first. Ironside frowned again. It was an idiotic decision that Ed made, but it had probably saved his life.

No, he told himself. That was unfair. It wasn't idiotic, it was charged with emotion and grief. The man had almost died from a broken heart, he himself knew how painful and difficult it could be to keep on going after losing the woman you loved.

'You did all you could,' he said firmly. 'We all have our limits.'

'If I hadn't agreed, Leo would still be alive,' Ed murmured.

'You don't know that,' Ironside told him. 'You don't know what might have happened. Ifs and maybes, that's all it is. You can't go through life dragging ifs and maybes behind you.'

Ed didn't respond, but looked to the floor. Speaking had opened the cut on Brown's lip again and he licked it nervously. Ironside pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and handed it over.

'We all make mistakes, Ed. That's what makes us human.'

Ed made no reply, just wiped the blood away.

'Besides,' Ironside continued, 'Officer Carelli was determined to swap. He had to. He was desperate.'

Ed looked at him in confusion. The Chief let him take the time to think through what it meant, wanting to give the man a chance to adjust to the circumstances.

'You're not just meaning the money, are you?' Ed asked. 'You're meaning something else?'

Ironside could sense Carl looking at him too, wondering how he was going to break it to Ed that his friend was a dirty cop who was helping the suspect escape. It wasn't going to be easy, any way he did it.

'What if I told you that Officer Carelli still had his gun in his holster when he was killed,' Ironside said.

For a few seconds, Ed looked thoroughly confused. Then Ironside saw the understanding dawn on him. It was a bitter pill for him to take, judging by his expression. Ed swallowed hard. The Chief could see him shaking, and his bandaged hand tightened around his other wrist. For a long while it looked like Ed couldn't speak, his mouth was pressed very tightly shut.

'You're sure?' he asked at last. 'He was helping the suspect escape? He sold us out?'

Ironside nodded firmly.

'I'm sorry, Ed.'

The Chief had expected Brown to have questions, but Ed didn't say anything more. He waited, but when Ed didn't speak, he knew they had to move on.

'Yesterday evening,' he said. 'At the boarding house? I need to know what happened.'

For a second Ed looked like he was going to be sick, and he swayed in his seat. Then he drew a shaky breath.

'The others, they were waiting for me to get back,' he said. 'Sam was drunk and he…' Ed stopped, unsure. Ironside waited again, wanting to hear the other side of this story.

'They said I'd turned over Leo's room.' Ed gave a nearly imperceptible shake of his head. 'Sam was angry. Angry with me, anyway.'

Ironside pursed his lips. He didn't want to interrupt, so this was not the appropriate point to tell Ed that his friends had said that he was the one who'd begged to swap with Carelli. Maybe they would get to that later.

'Sam hit me.' Ed lifted his hand to his mouth, licking his lips again. 'He threw me out.'

For a moment, it looked as if Ed was going to say more, the expression on his face was one of confusion and anger, as if he had suddenly thought of something unpleasant. Ironside said nothing, wondering if they were both thinking the same thing: that his so-called friends might have had another motive for throwing him out, considering what had happened afterwards. He debated asking for Ed's opinion but decided against it. If one or more of those men had colluded in the attack on Ed, then they were going to have to tread very carefully if he wanted to catch them. And now wasn't the time to go down that road. He had to find out what had happened first.

'I don't know if that was true about Leo's room,' Ed said eventually.

'It is,' Ironside replied. 'His room was broken into.'

With a heavy sigh, Ed leaned back, dejected. The Chief let him sit for a moment, but Ed had to know. This was something else he hated having to do.

'I'm sorry, Ed, but your room was searched too.'

Brown stared in disbelief at him, then started to shake his head as if trying to deny the words.

'They were both turned over,' Ironside told him. 'By the same person. Most likely it's connected to the attack on you.'

'My room?'

Yet another thing he didn't want to have to say. How do you tell someone that most of their possessions have been ripped or broken, then dumped on the floor and trampled over?

'Thoroughly searched. Everything.'

Ed knew what that meant. He was still gently shaking his head, staring ahead in shock.

'Everything?' he murmured. 'Not…?' For a second it didn't look like he could continue.

'I'm sorry, Ed,' Ironside said again, knowing how empty the words were. But they couldn't stop halfway through, and they were approaching the hardest part. He had to keep pushing.

'What happened afterwards?' he asked.

There was another long silence, and Ironside watched as Ed forced himself to respond. This time, when he spoke his voice was stronger but utterly empty of any emotion and intonation, as if he was reading the words from a script.

'I had nowhere to go. So I walked. I went to the park, I had before. They were waiting. Three in the group. They were talking. One ran up behind me.' He stopped for a moment. 'It was planned. I just didn't see it.'

Ironside listened in horrified silence as Ed described what had happened, the way they had sprung the trap, hit him, knocked him off-balance and brought him down. He spoke about how they'd searched him, and some of what they'd said, giving as much detail as he could, all the time speaking in that eerie, detached monotone. As he listened, Ironside cast the occasional glance at Carl, who was looking just as shocked as he felt.

'Then Sergeant Reese found me,' Ed finished. 'You know the rest.'

He stopped speaking and stared blindly straight ahead. Looking at the young man, sitting awkwardly under a blanket in his borrowed clothes, the anger that had been building inside the Chief reached a peak, and he was within moments of letting it loose, but his good sense overrode the desire to express himself. The last thing Brown needed was for him to lose his cool to his face, he was taking this hard enough as it was. But if he ever found any of those men in the future, then he would personally throw the book at each one of them; very, very hard.

'And do you remember what they looked like?' Ironside asked.

'Not really,' Ed admitted. 'The faces blur. I'm not sure I can describe them, not accurately. I might recognise the b-b-blond man.'

The Chief didn't like the way Ed stuttered at the word "blond", the only tell-tale display of emotion through the whole description.

'Names?'

'I can't be sure,' Ed replied with a shake of his head. 'I panicked. Got too caught up in it all. Too tired, too scared.' The next words were so quiet Ironside almost missed them. 'Some cop I am.'

The Chief started to reassure him, but Ed continued.

'They were looking for something. They were desperate for money. Someone else was going to pay them.'

Ironside and Carl exchanged a look.

'Did they say what it was? Any hint?'

Brown shook his head slowly, eyes still blank and glazed. It was the answer the Chief had expected. He still had almost no idea what they'd been so eager to find, except that it was small and could be easily hidden.

'They wouldn't get paid without it. They couldn't find anyth-' Ed stopped abruptly, his bandaged hand tightening on his left wrist. 'They didn't find what they were looking for.'

Ironside forced himself to ask, not sure if Ed could answer.

'Did they take anything at all?'

Ed gave a tiny nod, but didn't speak, his left hand clenched so hard that the knuckles were white. The feeling in the room changed. Ed sat rigidly but the Chief could see he was trembling and hear his short, shuddering breaths. His mouth was clamped shut as if he had no words left to say ever again, and he stared ahead, unblinking.

Ironside looked at Carl, a happily married man with a beautiful wife and daughter he doted on. He had no need to be here for this. Without speaking, the Chief attracted Carl's attention and nodded to the door, eyebrows raised. Carl understood and left, looking back anxiously over his shoulder. Ed didn't react.

The Chief waited in silence. Ed was travelling down the same path as he had, trying to navigate loss and mourning in a world where it was never seen to exist. The barrage of events in the past few days had brought him to the very edge, a place where there was no respite and no shortcuts.

The young man still hadn't moved, and Ironside shifted forward.

'There is no statute of limitation on mourning, Ed.' He put his hand briefly on Ed's shoulder. 'It won't always hurt this much. It takes time. But I'd be lying if I said it was easy.'

Ed looked questioningly at him, holding his gaze. But he didn't ask, because he didn't need to. Ironside could see in his eyes that he understood that this was a pain they shared.

'I don't know what to do,' Ed whispered.

'I know.'

There was a tense silence, and the room felt very still.

'Am I lost?' Ed asked at last, his voice breaking under the strain of his grief. 'I don't know. I don't know what to do. How do you go on, each day, being so lost without her?'

Ironside didn't speak. There was no response he could give, he'd not found any answer to that question over the many years since Carolyn had passed away. Ed gulped a couple of stilted breaths. Then he lowered his head and put his hands over his eyes, his shoulders shaking, finally overwhelmed by his emotions.

Ironside sat quietly beside him, sharing his companionship. There was nothing he could offer him by way of comfort, expect the company of a man who understood, and who cared. It would be simple to give the usual platitudes, that there was a whole world out there, and he could love again, and be with someone else. But he didn't. Ed needed to take the time to figure that out for himself. This was a scar he'd have all his life, and a loss that would always cause him pain.

Carolyn had been perfect. Intelligent, beautiful, energetic, she was the only person in the world he'd had to run to keep up with. Insatiably curious about everything, she was also kind and compassionate to everyone she met, willing to take on their troubles and help in any way she could.

They'd met on a case. Her stockbroker father had been arrested for murder; desperate and trapped in a cycle of debt and blackmail, he'd seen violence as the only way out. Carolyn had faced the unpleasant facts about a man she'd idolised with such grace, honesty and courage that it had left Ironside in awe. He'd invited her out to dinner the evening the case was closed. They were married just over a year later. A year after that, she was gone.

He didn't think there would be anyone who could replace her. There were other women, but no one else could ever fit into that void in his life. It would be there forever, a loss that was as much part of him as his body, his legs, his hands or his mind.

The two men sat without speaking as time passed, but eventually the Chief realised Ed had regained his composure and was watching him with an oddly calm expression on his face. His eyes were red and puffy, and he looked pale, which made the bruising look much more pronounced. But he wasn't shaking anymore.

'Why is this happening, Chief?' Ed asked. 'Leo? My room? Why, Chief?'

Ironside told him all he could about the investigation; from the briefing before the raid, through to the funeral and their suspicions, to the end of last night, including what had transpired at the Channel 6 office. All things considered, Ed took it well. He listened in silence until Ironside had finished, then he sat with a slight frown on his face as if trying to sort through the information and put it in context.

'Leo tipped the suspect off,' Ed said eventually, 'right at the start. That's why Sergeant Reese wanted to know what happened at the department before the raid.'

'Yes,' Ironside replied, pleased that Ed had come straight to the point without shying away from the awkward facts. 'But we still don't know how.'

Ed's frown grew deeper.

'I can hardly believe he'd do that,' he said. 'I never knew, I never even thought…' He looked keenly at the Chief. 'I had no idea.'

'None of us did,' Ironside replied.

'How could I have missed it?' he said in a whisper, more to himself than to the Chief.

'We all missed it, Ed,' Ironside said quickly, but the other man's expression showed how much he blamed himself. 'Do you think I would have let him anywhere near this raid, if I'd known?'

Brown paused, then shook his head, and the way he did it reminded the Chief of how uncomfortable and sore he must still be. For a moment, Ironside thought back to Ed's description of the attack, and looked again at the dark purple bruises on his neck, and the thin scratches on his cheekbone, and the bandaged hand that gripped is left wrist. Under his ill-fitting clothes there would be more bruises, and inside there would be other, invisible marks. He had no need to carry the guilt for a friend as well.

'If there's anyone who should feel like they've made a mistake, it should be me,' the Chief said, as firmly as he could. 'Am I clear?'

Ed looked up at him.

'And do you? Do you feel that way?' he asked. It should have been an accusation, but that wasn't what Ironside heard. Ed needed answers, the Chief understood that. He nodded.

'Yes, I do,' he replied. 'I had no doubts about any of the officers in my department.' He could hear the disappointment in his own voice. 'But I'm convinced there are others.'

He remembered the words he'd spoken to Carl, days ago now: 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!' Somehow he had to figure out who was on their side and who had crossed the fence. Until Carelli's death, he'd never thought any of his men would sell out. Ed's expression of disgust mirrored his own feelings.

'How are you going to find them?'

That was an astute question, and one that the Chief had given long thought to over the previous hours. But he hesitated before speaking, unsure if Ed was up to this. Once they started this conversation, there might be no backing out.

'There is one person who could tell us something,' he said.

While any of the other four men from the boarding house might have been involved, the suspect was the only one who'd had any verifiable contact with a crooked cop. He waited as confusion passed over Ed's face.

'Are you meaning the man who killed Leo?' Brown asked, still frowning.

'Yes,' Ironside replied. 'He was the one who was tipped off. And I intend to ask him how.'

He watched as Ed thought through that statement, wanting to gauge his reaction.

'But where do we start?' Ed asked.

Ironside gave a grim smile, noting the way he'd used "we" that time. Brown wasn't going to back out now, Ironside could see that from his expression. The Chief wasn't sure if he was glad about that or not.

'The man at the end of the funeral,' he said 'Carl said he almost confronted you.'

Wincing as if the memory caused him pain, Ed nodded.

'Would you recognise him?'

'I think so.'

'And he recognised you?'

Ed gave a small shrug, but swallowed hard before answering.

'Yes.'

The way he said the word made Ironside pause. He had an idea, one that had been growing since last night, when he'd learnt that Ed had been singled out for an attack. It was a way to get the killer where they wanted him to be: out in the open.

But it was dangerous. It would have been dangerous for a trained undercover officer who was at a stable point in his life. It was completely different to suggest it to a young patrolman with almost no experience; who had barely scrubbed the word rookie off his uniform; who was grieving for his fiancée; who had just been robbed and assaulted; who'd had his whole life turned upside down in the past few days.

Ed frowned, but there was a strange look in his eyes now, as if he was resigned to what was about to happen. The Chief didn't like that look. It suggested they had no other option, and Ironside hated not having other options. It was clear the toll the past few months had taken, and this was dangerous in a way that the young man wasn't prepared for.

'He searched your room, then came after you,' Ironside said, continuing to watch Ed's response carefully. 'And he still doesn't have what he's looking for. That's to our advantage.'

'He thinks I have what he wants, whatever it is?'

'Yes,' the Chief replied. 'And he'll come looking for it. He'll come looking for you.'

That was something that Ironside was convinced about. The suspect had turned over both rooms and got some others to do the dirty work with the assault. But he was still missing whatever it was he wanted. He wouldn't give up. It put Ed in a nearly impossible position.

'So I'll be a target until this is over,' Ed murmured, his voice filled with resigned sadness. His shoulders sagged and he gave a soft sigh. 'I don't have any choice.'

'No, Ed. You do,' Ironside replied as firmly as he could. 'You always have a choice.'

Brown glanced up at him, looking lost and filled with doubt at that statement, but the Chief didn't want him to feel trapped, or any more trapped than he already did. They did have other leads to try, they weren't good leads, but they were still there, and that was the important point. He didn't want to pressure Brown into this.

'We can work our way through this another way,' he said. 'Do the legwork, and get our man, without you getting involved.'

'But I am involved.' His tone was bitter, in a way that sent a chill down Ironside's spine. He didn't like the expression on Ed's face either. 'I can't sit this one out.'

They looked at each other. If Ironside had thought waking Ed was bad, then suggesting his plan was going to be ten times worse. What would he had done in Ed's position? At the moment, he would have jumped at the chance to bring the man in on his own, trusting his own skill and nerve. But when he was Ed's age, and at that stage in his career, barely even out of the Academy? After everything that had gone wrong over the past few months? Would he have thought himself able? Was he wrong to suggest that Ed could do this? True, Ed had improved as a cop over the past months, but the Chief wasn't convinced he was up to this. And if anything unexpected happened, someone could end up dead.

But the killer was still out there. Cold, ruthless, calculating, the man knew Ed was involved and assumed Brown had what he wanted. Who knew what he'd do to get it? And not knowing which of their colleagues could be trusted only made it more important to bring the suspect in now. For Ed's own safety, they had to do this as fast as they could.

However, it was unlikely that the Commissioner would see it that way. And Sewell was not known for his calm and reasoned response to impromptu undercover work. Ironside gave an internal sigh. Perhaps that was a worry for a different day, maybe after they had what they needed. Getting the case closed quickly was his goal and he needed to get this plan moving.

Ed was looking at him with an unpleasant, resigned expression on his face. They both knew that he was in this whether he wanted to be or not.

'What do you want me to do?' Ed asked.

So Ironside told him.