A/N - Double surprise! A mid-week(ish) update. And I know what I said about the number of chapters, but there's a lot for them to talk about. ;)

I'd like to think 19 will be up this weekend, so fingers crossed. And as always than you for your support and enthusiasm for this fic, it is very much appreciated. -x-

Chapter 18

Open and Shut

The door flew open with a single kick.

Ironside was through it immediately, his gun held ready, having pulled rank on his two companions. He registered what was happening in the room in an instant: The suspect had already reacted to their interruption and had turned, his weapon moving to aim at the door, his finger tensing on the trigger. But Ed had reacted too and was fast enough, and close enough, to grab the man's arm, forcing it upwards just as he fired.

Three shots rang out in quick succession, bang! bang! bang! but thanks to Ed's fast reflexes they all missed their target. The first went into the door frame, splintering the wood only inches away from the Chief's shoulder, the next into the wall, and the last hit the ceiling.

Ironside didn't fire, unable to get a clear shot. Brown was still moving forward and crashed into the suspect, his momentum pulling him down relentlessly. There was nothing to stop them both toppling over.

The man landed with a thud half-underneath Ed, and one of them gave a pained whimper. Clearly furious, the suspect reacted with violence and desperately struggled to wrench himself free, trying to fire at the men in the doorway. The gun waved around wildly, but Ed had a good enough grip and just enough strength left to keep hold.

The moment the two men hit the floor, Ironside darted forward as fast as he could, sensing Carl and Murray a fraction of a second behind. As soon as he was close, the Chief saw that Ed was tiring fast. He was barely aware of the presence of the others, his face was screwed up, either with effort or pain, and all his attention was focused on the gun. Had he attempted this on his own, the Chief had no doubt Ed would have lost, and paid the price, but with three other men to help their suspect had no chance.

Less than ten seconds after the door had been forced open, the man was pinned face-down with Carl's knee in his back as he cuffed him and told him his rights, the gun safely in Murray's hands. On the floor next to him, Ed lay facing upwards, left leg half-bent, his chest heaving for breath, his bandaged hand over his eyes. Once sure Brown wasn't injured, Ironside let him stay there, and turned his attention to the others.

'Get that man up and out of here!' he growled at Carl and Murray.

It wasn't as straightforward as it should have been. The suspect sagged like a heavy sack as the two officers pulled him off the floor, being deliberately difficult. He started kicking and squirming as they tried to walk him forward, all the time snarling out insults at them. But the noise of the shots had summoned the officers that Ironside had left further along the corridor, and with their help the man was bundled out of the room still hurling curses and swearing bloody revenge at everyone around him.

In the doorway, Sergeant Reese hesitated and looked at Brown, who hadn't moved, then up to the Chief with a questioning look on his face.

'It's okay, Carl, leave this with me for now,' Ironside said, arching his eyebrows. Then he frowned. 'The whole floor must be awake by now so make sure no guests get in the way. Then get a full team out here. I want the works, top priority.'

The sergeant hesitated for a moment longer, frowning down at Ed, then he gave a quick nod and turned away, thoughtfully pulling the door shut as he did. Ironside smiled to himself. Carl could be relied on to make sure the scene was secured, and they weren't disturbed, at least until the men from the lab arrived. That should be long enough.

Ironside waited as the sound of footsteps faded. For a few moments, it was quiet and still, as if nothing had happened and the Chief took the chance to breathe a long silent sigh of relief. It had been a close-run thing, much much closer than he was comfortable with. One moment they were racing against time following the trail Ed had left, and the next the suspect was in handcuffs and being dragged away to the cells. But it was over now, and they'd got to the end without anyone getting hurt. Or more hurt.

The Chief looked back to Brown. He hadn't moved, but his breathing was less laboured so Ironside stepped closer and leaned down, patting him gently on the arm. Ed flinched at the unexpected contact as if he'd been burned, but other than that didn't respond.

'Let's get you standing,' Ironside said gruffly. 'You can't lie around here all night, Ed.'

For a moment, the Chief thought Brown would refuse, then he removed his hand from his eyes and gave a slight nod. Ironside caught his arm and helped him up. Although Ed tried his best, he couldn't disguise the pain he was in, it was obvious by the way he struggled upright and winced every time he breathed in. After being worked over the night before, tackling the suspect to the ground would have been agony.

Once vertical, Brown staggered gracelessly over to a nearby bed, and slumped down on the edge. On the dresser were Ed's few remaining belongings, his key and wallet, the painkillers and the picture from his engagement party. Ironside gathered them up and handed them over to Brown. He barely responded to the first three items beyond putting them in his pocket, but he hesitated at the picture and stared at it as if he couldn't bear to look away. After a long moment, Ed gave a hushed sigh, looking crest-fallen and unsure, and he tucked the picture carefully inside his jacket. Then he sat hunched forward with his shoulders tensed, his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him, eyes fixed on the floor.

Ironside watched his young friend in concerned silence, wondering how much this operation had cost him. There was no mistaking how strung out and utterly exhausted he looked. He was pale, accentuating the different shades of the bruises, the cut on his lip was discoloured and oozing blood again, his hands were trembling, his breathing uneven. But all things considered he was in much better shape than Ironside had thought he'd be, and he regarded Brown with a new level of pride and respect. He'd done what the Chief knew he could do and repaid the trust put in him; he'd paid it back double, and with interest. It took a quick, clever mind and a strong heart to hold your nerve in front of a killer. He'd done that, and kept his wits enough to react when the door had opened unexpectedly. If he had been a second slower, the first bullet might not have missed its target.

It was a sobering thought, and the Chief glanced round to the ruined door frame. A second slower, or less, and there would have been a very different ending.

Ironside shook his head to dispel the image. It was just another "if" or "maybe", that was all. And now wasn't the time to dwell on it. Ed might have looked better than he'd thought he would, but he was still in a bad way. And the Chief still needed answers.

Ironside sat down on the opposite bed. As he did, he noticed a distinctive mark on Ed's shirt, slightly to the left of centre on his chest, near the third button down. It was faint and dark grey, with a dusty, powdery texture, round like an "O", almost as if someone had pressed a-

The Chief gave a start, realising what had caused it. Alarmed, he looked at Ed, who was still staring blankly at the floor and didn't notice. Obviously there was more of a story to tell then just being pushed around by their suspect. No wonder Ed looked so drained.

'Brown?' Ironside said.

After another long moment, Ed looked up to him, cheeks flushing pale pink, eyes slightly glazed. He licked his lips.

'H-Hey, Chief,' he said.

Ironside slowly blinked once in surprise at the response, then scowled. Was that all? After following the man through a hotel for half an hour, then searching through trash cans and almost getting shot, all he got was a stuttering "hey"?

'Is that all you have to say for yourself?' Ironside demanded, eyes drawn again to the gunpowder mark on Ed's shirt. 'What happened to not confronting the suspect on your own?'

Ed lowered his head and didn't reply.

'Were my instructions not clear enough, Officer?'

At that, Ed glanced awkwardly back at him.

'No, Chief,' he said, shaking his head very slightly, as if the motion might make him sick. Then he frowned. 'Or yes? Um-?' He took a short, nervous breath. 'They were clear, Chief.'

Under the weight of Ironside's glare, Brown looked away and clasped his right hand round his left wrist again. He was still trembling, although he was doing his best to disguise it, and kept licking his lips. Whether he was still shaken after the fight or he was worried about getting chewed out by his boss, Ironside couldn't tell.

The Chief considered doing what Carl had done after the last fight Ed had been in, letting the man rest and recover before asking the difficult questions. But he decided that delaying wasn't going to help this time. Ed needed this over with, right now. He needed it finished so he could start the difficult process of recovery, and maybe get a decent sleep. The Chief frowned again, less severely this time.

'Then I think you need to explain,' he said. 'From the beginning.'

Ed gave a heavy, resigned sigh that sounded like it came from his soul and his shoulders sagged. Then, in a low voice, Brown went through what had happened, starting from leaving Carl's yesterday afternoon. He spoke about getting to his room and getting a taxi to the Rum Runner without incident. He shifted uncomfortably when he spoke of arriving at the hotel and the long, lonely wait for something to happen as he'd sat in the bar. When he mentioned the tea, Ed paused and frowned, a look of revulsion on his face.

'And I'm never gonna drink tea again,' he said. 'Hot or cold.'

At the words, Ironside gave him a knowing smile, but didn't reply, letting Ed continue.

Brown's tone grew more anxious when he talked about how the suspect had confronted him, but he confirmed a lot of Ironside's assumptions about what had gone down between the two men, and explained how he'd decided his only choice was to call the operation off. As he spoke, Ironside could see from the expression on his face how difficult Ed had found that decision.

'I thought I might have made a mistake,' he said, his right hand gently rubbing his left wrist. 'But I couldn't see another way out of it. I couldn't take that chance.'

Ed paused, maybe expecting the Chief to question that choice. Instead, Ironside waited.

'After I left my key, I headed out,' said Brown, his voice growing quieter. 'And he was waiting for me as I stepped through the doors. I hadn't thought he'd do that. I was too caught up in thinking about getting a cab and going home, and that it was over for the night. I made a mistake. I let my guard down.'

Ironside didn't respond, hearing the disappointment in Ed's voice. He was being too hard on himself. But it would be of little use telling him that right now.

'He put a gun to my back and forced me up the stairs,' he continued. 'I knew I had to try and find a way to let you know what had happened. But I could only use what I hand in my hands. And he underestimated me.'

He paused to take a deep breath, and the Chief took the chance to interrupt, interested in Ed's perception of the man.

'How do you mean, underestimated?'

'He thought he was too smart for me,' Ed told him. 'That I couldn't get one over on him. That he was always two steps ahead of everyone. But he took it all at face value. That I was drunk. That I didn't know about the other cops.' Brown shook his head, looking disappointed again. 'That I could be intimidating into cooperating.'

'An interesting observation,' Ironside said approvingly. Ed deflected the comment with a shrug, still looking uncomfortable.

'So I thought I would play along, use it against him,' he continued quickly. 'I decided I could leave the bottle on the ground by the stairwell door, with the rest of the trash. I tried, but I over-did being drunk. He grabbed it out of my hand,' Ed drew a short, shuddering breath, 'And I thought he would drink. I thought I was-'

Ed stopped abruptly, closing his eyes and turning away from the Chief, the knuckles of his left fist white.

'We found it anyway,' Ironside said gently, 'and the smear of blood on the wall. That was quick thinking.'

Again, Brown deflected the potential compliment with a shrug. He reached up and touched the cut on his lip, looking slightly embarrassed.

'I wasn't sure it would work,' he admitted. 'Any of it. I just hoped it would. It was the only thing I could think of, and I didn't know if you'd see it. Or if you'd understand.' He looked up, directly at the Chief, the embarrassment replaced by something that Ironside couldn't decipher. There was an uncomfortable pause, then Ed looked away.

'And after?' Ironside asked. Ed didn't reply. 'Inside the room?'

Ed frowned again, pulling his arms close around his chest. It took him a few moments to start speaking.

'I don't think he had any intention of trading,' he said, an edge of anger slipping into his voice. 'He s-searched me, he must have known he wouldn't find anything, but he did it anyway. I think he enjoys humiliating people, scoring points over them.'

That observation also interested the Chief, as it fitted in with his own ideas of the suspect's character. Ed had twisted slightly away from him, as if uncomfortable with the memory.

'And then-?' Ironside prompted.

'He didn't waste time. He said he wanted "our calling card". I wasn't sure what he meant.'

'A calling card?' said the Chief slowly. 'I see.' He gave a low, thoughtful hum at this unexpected information. Ed was looking at him, head cocked slightly to one side.

'I suppose they are a little old-fashioned these days,' Ironside said. 'And it's rare for one to end up anywhere near the police, most people who have one, guard them with their lives.' He arched his eyebrows at Ed. 'Would you want to let the police know who you are and what you did for a living?'

'What do you mean?' Ed asked with a frown.

'Word of mouth is one way to get work. But it can get a little slow. If you had a certain set of specialised skills, you had to let potential clients know how to hire you. A calling card in the right place could mean a lot of work got passed your way. A name sometimes, and a way of contacting you for a meet. As well as what skills you could offer.'

Ed still looked concerned.

'And were they just cards?' he asked.

Ironside shrugged.

'Sometimes. I never saw many. They could be as simple as business cards, but they'd also be other things, small and unobtrusive, or big but easily over-looked. Objects that the uninitiated would see and not understand the significance. Idea was that they could be passed to the right people, and no one else would be any the wiser.'

Ed still had that confused, unsettled expression on his face.

'It's a lot of trouble just for a card,' he said sourly.

Ironside almost snapped a retort, but stopped himself. Ed had been robbed, searched, assaulted, kidnapped, searched again, threatened and nearly shot for that "calling card". Maybe he had a point.

'And he said our?' repeated Ironside. Ed nodded. 'That's interesting. If he'd lost a calling card with someone else's details on it, as well as his own, then no wonder he was desperate. His associates would have been unhappy in the extreme if their card ended up with the police.' He gave a mirthless smile. 'And I would think they were the type of people to take that sort of carelessness very seriously.'

'He said he thought someone had sold him out,' Brown added.

Intrigued by the information, Ironside gave a slow nod.

'Maybe he's right and they did,' he replied. 'Someone with a grudge, someone looking for some payback, maybe not liking him muscling in. So they set up a fake meet and tipped off an informer, who passed it on to us.' He paused. 'If the meet was set using the details on that calling card, once he finds out we're on to him, he'll think we found him through the card. And he panicked.'

The more the Chief learned about what had happened, the more grateful he was that it was over, and without anyone getting hurt. Their suspect must have been much more desperate than Ironside had anticipated. And if, at any point, he'd realised Ed didn't have that calling card, the Chief had no doubt that the suspect wouldn't have hesitated and it would have been over a second later. Once again, Ironside gave silent thanks that they'd got through this in one piece. Ed had had a closer call than he'd thought.

'And no wonder he took chances,' he added. 'He must have been right at the edge.' The Chief leaned forward, deliberately getting Ed's attention. 'It would have been tough to reason with him, and keep your cover at the same time.'

Ed didn't make eye contact. His mouth was pressed shut as if reluctant to continue speaking, and a wave of concern passed through the Chief. If he had to take a guess, he'd have said that Brown didn't want to tell him what happened after that. He'd have to choose his next question carefully.

'You said he didn't want to trade,' Ironside said. Ed looked uncomfortable, but nodded warily.

'And?'

Ed didn't speak, his mouth still pressed shut. A pulse of worry passed through Ironside.

'How?' he insisted. 'Ed? How? I think you need to tell me.'

He watched as a suite of contradictory emotions passed over Ed's face as he struggled to start the next sentence.

'I, well. I might have…' He stopped.

Ironside looked enquiringly at Brown and forced himself to wait and not interrupt. The silence grew deeper, but the Chief still didn't speak.

'I might have-' started Brown. 'You see, I thought I-' He stopped again, and took a slow, shuddering breath, lowering his head. 'I called his bluff.'

'By?'

Ed pursed his lips tightly and looked off to the side, as if trying to think of a good way to explain what he'd done. Ironside didn't like the way Ed couldn't look him in the eye. As he waited for Brown to speak, he gaze drifted down to the powder-mark. The Chief suppressed a shudder.

'I told him that I was here to trade.' Ed gulped a breath. His next words were softly spoken. 'I stepped right up to him. Right up to the gun. Then I said he should shoot me if he didn't believe me.'

There was a long, uneasy silence, and it looked to Ironside as if Ed was waiting for the ground to open up and swallow him. It was an expression the Chief had seen from Brown before. A few days ago, on the morning this had started, he'd stood in Ironside's office and told him what had happened. Then he'd stood there with that exact same look of resignation on his face, expecting to be either fired or suspended.

But in truth, the only surprising thing about Ed's admission was how unsurprised Ironside was. It fitted exactly with how he imagined Ed would have reacted. Pushed right to the limit, out of options and out of time, he'd done the only thing he could; he'd risked everything to keep his cover and keep himself in the game.

'I see,' Ironside said calmly.

Warily, Ed glanced up. He pursed his lips and the Chief suddenly wondered if there was more to explain, but he didn't want to say it. Ironside debated pushing, and for once decided that it would be counter-productive. Standing at the edge of eternity, with your life completely in someone else's hands, waiting to see if it was the end; that was a difficult place to be. All the more so after all the loss and misfortune that Ed had endured over the past few months.

Clearly there was something more to say about that part of the confrontation, and as the Chief thought about it, the more he felt he could guess what it might be. But that would be a conversation for a different day. There had been enough people prying into Ed's private life recently, but he hoped that, perhaps when they got to know each other better, he would feel able to ask.

'It obviously worked,' the Chief observed.

The surprise on Ed's face at his response might have been comical in other circumstances, but Ironside didn't feel like smiling.

'And then?' he asked.

'I asked for money. As much as he had on him.' Ed's lips curled into a slight sneer. 'He said: "I don't carry hundreds of thousands of dollars on the off-chance I'll meet a greedy cop." And I told him I didn't care. That I had to get out and I'd take whatever he had on him. He didn't like that at all.'

Brown continued, repeating more of their conversation, clearly trying to recall it word-for-word, impressing the Chief with his memory and his deductions under such intense pressure. He explained how the man had reacted, but said a lot less about how he personally felt about what had happened. In spite of that, Ironside could see how much it had affected Ed, especially when the suspect had spoken about Officer Carelli. Although he wanted to ask more, the Chief decided to wait until they got to the end.

'I was running out of time,' Ed said eventually. 'And I knew he would kill if he had to. He said "A quick, neat execution is very different from a slow, messy death. And I could do either." And he meant it. I know he did. But I didn't realise how important the card was. I told him that he should just pay me, and he almost laughed in my face. He called the card "gold" and couldn't believe I'd only take a few hundred dollars.'

Brown lapsed into silence, frowning, looking concerned. Then he shook his head.

'I think I slipped up,' he said. 'I told him I didn't care what he thought. And that I have got to get out, and if that meant taking what I could, then that was what I was going to do. He didn't expect that at all. The last thing he said to me was "I had you down as just one more dumb, greedy cop. But you're not like that at all, are you?" I think he knew something was wrong. And if you hadn't arrived when you did, then-' Ed swallowed and forced himself to continue '-then it would probably have been too late.'

He stopped speaking. Explaining what had happened had taken its toll, and now Ed looked much more weary. But he also still had a deep frown on his face, and was rubbing his hands together as if he was building up to asking an unpleasant question. So rather than interrupt, Ironside waited.

'He said they spoke. Him and Leo,' Ed murmured. The expression Brown's face grew more perturbed, and he glanced to the Chief, as if for reassurance. 'I'm not sure anymore. He said he saw us argue, then went straight out after I left. They didn't have a long conversation, that's what he said.' Ed paused again. 'But it was five minutes, or a little more, between me leaving and the shot that killed Leo.'

The statement left a profound silence behind it. Ironside didn't respond immediately, letting himself think through the facts. He'd assumed right from the start that the suspect was their killer, especially after learning what he'd done in New York. He'd been wrong about other things in this case, but if he was wrong about that, then it would have huge implications, for everyone.

'You think he didn't shoot Officer Carelli,' the Chief said at last, deliberately phrasing it as a statement, not a question. A lightning-fast flash of regret passed over Ed's face.

'I don't know.'

'Did he admit it?'

Brown shook his head.

'All he said was it would be an impossible task to prove it.'

'Take me through it again.'

As Brown repeated that section of the conversation, Ironside's doubts grew stronger.

'He said I'd know all about hiding evidence,' Ed muttered. 'And I think- I think maybe he thought that I killed Leo.' He looked intently at Ironside. 'But I didn't, Chief, you need to bel-'

'I know,' Ironside interrupted curtly.

'But if he didn't,' Ed started to say, sounding more desperate, 'then I'm the next obvious suspect and-'

'Ed!' Ironside said. 'I know.'

There was a mix of different emotions on Ed's face. He opened his mouth, but closed it again without speaking. There was a short silence.

'It might make more sense if he did think you killed Officer Carelli,' the Chief said, noting the way Ed recoiled in disgust at the words. 'Maybe he assumed we thought that too, and that was why we tailed you.' Ironside paused, mulling over the idea, and what else had happened. 'And maybe that was why he paid some thugs to confront you, rather than doing it himself.'

There were other possibilities, but that explanation couldn't be discounted, at least not until he had spoken to the suspect.

He didn't like the feeling that this was a lot more complicated than he'd initially thought and that there were more people involved. They had a next to impossible task in sorting this all out, and an even more impossible task to prove any of it. Supposition and circumstance wasn't going to cut it, not with something like this.

'But Chief,' said Ed quietly, 'I didn't shoot Leo. And if the suspect didn't, then who did?'

The expression on Brown's face told Ironside that he had already thought of an answer, and it was an answer he hated. Ironside looked expectantly at Brown, waiting for him to follow the logic through to the end.

'He said he saw us argue,' Ed muttered. 'And said Leo was trying to bargain. He said Leo wasn't going to share.' He paused. 'So Leo was going to double cross whoever he had planned this with.' He paused again, and rubbed his hand over his eyes. 'Someone already at the hotel. One of the other cops on duty.'

'I think that's the most reasonable conclusion,' the Chief replied. 'Someone who was on duty that morning. Someone Carelli knew well. Someone he trusted.'

For a moment, it looked like Ed was going to be sick.

'Does it have to be one of them?' he asked, using the same hushed tone as he had before.

'It could have been any of the men there that morning,' Ironside replied. 'But it is most likely to be one of his friends.'

'You mean, one of my friends.'

The Chief nodded. Maybe sugar-coating it would have made it easier for Ed to accept, but they were beyond that, after everything that had happened tonight. Ironside watched as Brown took a long, slow breath in.

'So this was for nothing?' Ed said, sounding sad and overwhelmed, rather than angry. 'After everything, all we've done, there's still a killer out there?'

'There's one less killer now,' Ironside reminded him. 'Maybe he didn't shoot Carelli, but that man is still a killer. And my counterpart in New York will be thrilled to get him back, I'm sure.'

Ed gave a sluggish, unenthusiastic nod.

'But what are we going to do now?' he asked. 'How-'

'We?' Ironside demanded, deliberately cutting over Brown. 'We are not going to do anything more tonight.' Ed started to respond but Ironside didn't give him the chance. 'You can give a full statement to Carl when we get downstairs,' the Chief told him with a hard look. 'And then you get some rest.'

'Rest?' Ed hesitated, looking uncomfortable. It didn't take a genius to see that Brown didn't want to face his so called "friends" back at the boarding house. Ironside couldn't blame him.

'This once, you can take the rest of the morning off,' Ironside said. 'Get some sleep and some food. I'll send Carl round here this afternoon to pick you up.'

'Here?'

Ironside frowned, getting slightly annoyed that Brown was being slow on the uptake. But then, the man had had a tough morning already, so perhaps he was allowed to be a little off. So instead of snapping, he smiled and, in return, the corner of Ed's mouth twitched almost imperceptibly up, the closest thing to the start of a smile he'd seen from Ed for many months. At least it was a start, even if it would probably take many more months to get him to do it again.

'You paid for your room, Brown,' he said. 'You might as well use it. I'm sure your expenses can cover breakfast as well.'

'But what are you going to do?' Ed asked.

At that, Ironside's smile grew wider with anticipation.

'I have a few things to check first, then I'm going to interview our suspect. And, thanks to what you've told me, I'm going to get some answers!'