A/N - Notes and thanks at the end.

Chapter 20

Horizon

The Plymouth was waiting at the entrance to the Rum Runner when Ed stepped outside, case in hand, packed and ready to leave. Sergeant Reese was in the driver's seat, his elbow on the frame of the open window. When he saw Ed, he grinned and raised his hand in greeting, gesturing to the other door.

It was another warm, sunny afternoon, and it felt good to get out of the stuffy hotel and into the fresh air. Under other circumstances he might have taken his time, he wasn't looking forward to going to either his home, to leave his case and get changed, or the Department, to see the Chief. But there wasn't a lot he could do to avoid it. The message from reception had said that he was "expected" in Ironside's office in an hour. The thought made him nervous all over again, and Ed wondered if he'd ever feel relaxed in the presence of the Chief.

'Feeling better, kid?' Reese asked as Ed put his case on the back seat and got in.

'Not much,' he replied honestly.

There was little point in trying to hide how he was feeling from the sergeant, not after everything. Having a quiet place to rest had helped. So had the late breakfast, courtesy of room service, and some painkillers and two cups of strong, black coffee. But he also felt worse. He was much more tired than yesterday and the aching had spread everywhere, all his muscles were stiff and sore from over-exertion. Any pressure on the larger bruises felt like he was being poked with a blunt but red-hot knife. The pain had woken him roughly once an hour, and showering and getting dressed had felt like an endurance test.

'Well, you look like you've done ten rounds with Doug Jones and Cassius Clay. Both at the same time!' Reese said as they pulled off and into the rush hour traffic.

'That comes pretty close to how I feel,' Ed replied. 'Only worse.'

'The Chief's going to take one look at you and flip out again, even if you shave and smarten up a bit at home.'

Ed frowned at the comment, rubbing the two-day stubble on his jaw. All morning he'd avoided speculating about what was going to happen and his own future. There was no point, as there was nothing he could do about that now. The decision was out of his hands, and all he could do now was show up and face the music.

'He was the one who wanted me back at headquarters today,' Ed said with a sigh. 'I don't know, I'll probably be handing out parking tickets for the rest of the year if I'm lucky. I could be stuck in records for the rest of the decade.'

At the wheel, Reese gave him a quick, surprised look.

'You think?'

Ed didn't reply.

'You think the Chief is gonna chew you out for saving his life?'

'I'd not thought of it like that,' he admitted.

Beside him, the sergeant gave a soft chuckle.

'I told you before,' he said. 'It will work out. The Chief's like that. You should try not to worry.'

Ed frowned again, still not convinced. With a smile, Carl tutted, shaking his head, but didn't push the point.

Instead, he changed the subject, and they chatted about the weather, the traffic and the ball game at the weekend for most of the journey. Reese sounded relaxed and Ed found himself relaxing a little too, enjoying the conversation and the chance to talk to someone as a friend.

Eventually, they turned on to his street and pulled up outside the boarding house, and the conversation petered out into awkward silence. Reese turned to face him with a sombre expression.

'Look kid,' he said. 'I need to tell you before you go. Everyone's talking about what happened.'

It was a disappointment but not a surprise, and the dread he'd felt earlier grew into a cold knot in his stomach. He was so sick of the whispers and the looks, and of being spoken about behind his back, knowing that the details of his misery and misfortunes were yet again the premium currency for the gossips. Couldn't they find someone else to talk about, even for a few days? Why couldn't he catch a break?

Annoyed, he muttered something under his breath, nervously rubbing his left wrist.

'It's all over the Department that Carelli was dirty,' Reese said. 'And that he was helping the suspect escape. Most people believe he pulled one over on you and tricked you into leaving.'

Ed shifted uncomfortably at the memory, aware that Carl knew the whole story. Reese noticed but kept speaking.

'Everyone knows who threw you out of the boarding house.' He arched his eyebrows. 'Simon has them on a short leash, probably for their own safety more than a punishment! And everyone knows you got robbed of your watch and worked over by a group of punks who are going to get driven out of town if the Chief ever finds them. But they think it was a coincidence, just bad luck you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, and no one has asked too many questions.' He paused then sighed. 'It's the shoot-out at the Rum Runner that has everyone's attention, rather than anything before.'

Ed frowned again, relieved and concerned at the same time.

'Relax,' Carl said when he noticed Ed's expression. 'The ones who know the truth don't gossip.'

Ed nodded, not sure what to say. He grew even less sure as Carl told him what the word was, that there had been a dramatic and dangerous chase through the corridors of the hotel, and that he'd risked his life to bring in a cop-killer and save the life of the Chief.

'But that's not how it happened,' Ed said once Carl had finished. 'Not really.'

'That's why it's called gossip, kid. Even if you told them the whole truth, I don't think anyone would believe you.'

'Great!' Ed muttered.

'It might be a little awkward,' Carl said. 'You know how it gets. But something else will come up soon enough and then you'll be last week's news.'

Ed muttered great again, thinking that couldn't happen soon enough. He gave a loud huff, crossing his arms, aware that Carl was still watching him. After a pause he gave another huff, then held out his hand.

'Thanks, Sergeant,' he said awkwardly as they shook hands. 'Thanks for all your help. You know… just thanks.'

'Pleasure, kid,' he replied. 'And after everything, I think you can start calling me Carl.'

Surprised, Ed nodded, then got out of the car and collected his case. He went round to the driver's side and leaned over.

'And I owe you one,' he said.

'I'll remember that next time we need a baby-sitter!' Carl said with an impish grin.

Before Ed could respond, the car pulled away.

There was a silence that could freeze lava in the Commissioner's office as Ironside stepped inside. Sewell waited impassively, his mouth pressed into a thin line, and for once he didn't offer him a seat.

Instead, the Chief waited in front of the long oak desk. It had been a long time since he'd felt like this, as if he was in front of his boss for a reprimand. But he knew this was going to be tricky, so he stood in as relaxed a stance as possible, never taking his eyes off the Commissioner. This might not be pleasant, but it was better to get it over with sooner rather than later, and then on with their case.

'Well?' Sewell demanded after a minute of silence.

'Good afternoon, Commissioner,' Ironside replied politely. He saw the man's eyes narrow a fraction.

'You have an interesting definition of the word "good", Robert,' he replied, without a trace of sarcasm in his voice. 'Because it's not a good afternoon from where I'm sitting.'

Ironside waited. The man had a point, although he would rather not have to admit it to his face. The paperwork alone would take a week to get straightened out.

'Do you know what this is?' asked Sewell, poking a finger at the fat file in the middle of his desk.

'It's the file on the Carelli case,' Ironside said.

'No!' Sewell retorted. 'It's a procedural, legal and administrative nightmare that you have constructed to ruin this department's reputation!' He sucked in a sharp breath and gave him a dark look. 'I should have known you were up to something!'

Ironside almost agreed with him, but thought better of it.

'We closed the case,' he said. 'We brought a killer in with the minimum of trouble, thanks to the quick actions of my staff.'

Sewell gave an angry snort.

'That would be the "staff" that included a man you suspended three days before?'

It was a rhetorical question, but Ironside couldn't help correcting the Commissioner.

'It was four days. And you wanted him suspended.'

'Edward Brown was suspended for a reason,' Sewell reminded him. 'What did you think you were doing, getting him involved?'

'I did what I had to do to protect my men and this city.'

'What you "had to do"?' asked Sewell. 'That's an interesting way of putting it.'

'I wouldn't-'

'You had no authority!' he snapped, sounding more angry. 'You went behind my back! You endangered our officers and yourself!'

There was very little he could say in response to that point. It had been far too close, not just for Ed, but for himself, Carl and Murray as well. If Brown hadn't been paying attention… he didn't finish that thought.

'I had to get that man into custody, fast,' Ironside replied.

'And that's the only justification you're going to give me?' demanded Sewell.

'I asked Den-'

Sewell snorted, his eyes narrowing again.

'I will be having words with Randall and Simon later. They had no authority either! How dare they agree without consulting me.' He glared at the Chief. 'And how dare you ask them to!'

'I-'

'No!' Sewell said suddenly. He picked up the folder again and brandished it in Ironside's face. 'You used a suspended officer. You sent him into an unpredictable situation without considering the potential danger, or if he was able to handle the pressure. I know what happened to him the evening before. You used an injured, grieving young man to get an arrest!' He rubbed his hand over his forehead. 'What the Mayor would say, I don't know. Or the press!'

'I gave Officer Brown a choice,' Ironside replied. 'He understood what was happening and he knew his options. But he chose to help me, to trust me, to do his job and bring the suspect in before anyone else got hurt.'

Sewell glared at him, but didn't speak.

'You know that Brown was in danger regardless,' Ironside continued. 'The suspect could have found him, and killed him, at any time. What should I have done? A round-the-clock tail? Protective custody? Days? Weeks?'

That got a silent fuming glare, and the two men stared at each other.

'I have read your report,' Sewell said. 'And I can't believe you let him do this. If you'd been wrong about him, if he'd made a mistake-'

'I wasn't wrong,' Ironside retorted, becoming annoyed at the Commissioner's attitude. If's were of no use. Again, the two men glared at each other. Then Sewell drew a deep breath.

'Officer Brown was suspended for a reason, Robert.'

'And that report explains why he's been reinstated,' Ironside said. The Commissioner looked back down to the file, a resigned expression on his face. 'It explains the whole case.'

That was a slight exaggeration, the file contained most of what had happened. The Chief had written it himself, and chosen his words with great care. He'd stuck to the facts only, and not added any superfluous, emotional details, or anything more than a cursory summary of the two private conversations he'd had with Ed.

The interrogation of Quill was the same, and had been reported with his usual precision, so everyone now knew Carelli had crossed the fence. But by careful use of words, he'd managed to make it sound like he'd been taken by surprise at that revelation. He'd also heavily implied at the end that Quill was as guilty as sin for the shooting, but they didn't have enough evidence to charge him. And any hints of other corrupt cops in the Department were obscured by other, more interesting facts.

Because hints were all he had at the moment. In spite of his very best efforts, and that of Brown, Reese and Anderson, they had no more to go on. In his own office, locked in his filing cabinet, was another case file containing all the details so far. The who and the how were still unknown as the person, or persons, behind this had covered their tracks too well. So, until they got a break, he was going to continue to play his cards close to his chest to give himself the chance to turn those hints into good hard, solid fact and to bring any other dirty cops to justice.

'I know exactly what that report tells me, Robert,' the Commissioner said. 'It tells me that Edward Brown is an officer that attracts trouble.'

'Good policemen often attract trouble,' Ironside said, hoping that Sewell wasn't going to start talking about his own record for attracting trouble. They didn't have the time to go through all of that today. 'It's because they do the right thing. And because they care.'

'Hmm,' the Commissioner didn't like that response, but it was difficult to argue with the truth. All of the best police officers cared; they put their hearts into a dangerous and thankless job because they felt the call of justice and hope for everyone else. Ed Brown was just the same. He had the making of an excellent police officer and the Chief wasn't going to let the Commissioner make the mistake of letting him go.

'I can't let him-'

'Commissioner!' interrupted the Chief loudly. 'I don't agree.'

'I don't think I need you to agree,' Sewell retorted. 'Because only one of us in this room is the Police Commissioner!'

'Brown didn't have to do it,' Ironside said. 'He didn't have to do any of it. But if he hadn't we'd still be chasing down a violent killer who was happy to gun down anyone who got in his way. And if Brown hadn't kept his head, you'd be talking to my replacement!' He narrowed his eyes and went for the jugular. 'That wouldn't look good to the Mayor at all.'

There was a very cold silence, the Sewell pursed his lips.

'As it is,' Ironside continued, his voice level and reasonable, 'a killer is off our streets, and on the way back to New York for his just rewards, all for the cost of a few hours overtime.'

There was a momentary pause, then the Commissioner started as he realised what the Chief had said. His face grew thunderous.

'Over-time?!'

'It's only fair to compensate Officer Brown for honest work,' Ironside said. 'Two full days overtime. Undercover pay, of course.'

'He was suspended!'

'He was undercover,' Ironside persisted. 'And so we should pay him.' Sewell still looked angry, but slightly nonplussed as well at the way the conversation had turned. 'Unless you think that he shouldn't be paid for working undercover?'

That was patently not what the Commissioner thought, and not paying men undercover was a ridiculous suggestion, and the Chief knew it. There was another long, uncomfortable silence.

'The suspension is still going on his record,' Sewell said at last, and the Chief had to force himself not to smile.

'Of course.'

'And I don't know what the rest of the department is going to think of his return.'

It was the Chief's turn to be surprised, because he knew exactly what the rest of the department was going to think. By now, every last man on the San Francisco police force must have heard an abbreviated and distorted version of what had happened, such was the power of the scuttlebug. But the important details would be the same, and they'd know Carelli had been dirty, and that the Chief himself had trusted Brown with a difficult and dangerous job. That was going to go a long way to help rebuild Ed's confidence and reputation.

'And you're going to vouch for him?' Sewell asked.

'Without hesitation,' Ironside replied, without hesitation.

The Commissioner shook his head and gave a heavy sigh.

'I suppose I should have known, Robert,' he muttered. 'I know what it's like when you've made up your mind about something. I just hope you're right about this young man.'

'I am,' Ironside replied. 'I'll bet my badge on it.'

'I hope it won't come to anything like that,' he said with a huff. 'But thank goodness this case is over. Thank goodness we found the murderer, even if we don't get the pleasure of sending him to the gas chamber for it. Your counterpart was ecstatic to be getting him back east, and I can't say I blame him.'

He looked at the Chief with a slight, resigned frown.

'I am grateful, Robert,' he said. 'And I do see that this wasn't an easy or simple situation. But you can't put any more of your junior officers in such danger again.'

'They're in danger every day,' Ironside pointed out.

'You know that's not what I mean. Putting inexperienced, untrained officers into high risk situations in not acceptable. Officer Brown pulled it off, but I don't want him, or any patrolmen, in that sort of position again. We have a whole department of highly competent and fully-trained officers, and you should use them. Do I make myself clear?'

Ironside debated arguing, but decided against it. This wasn't an operation he wanted to repeat. And the Commissioner made a valid point.

'I understand,' he said.

Sewell gave a nod.

'Good,' he said firmly. 'Now we can get back to normal.'

At the phrase, the Chief allowed himself an ironic smile. Normal was very far away at the moment.

'Yes,' Ironside agreed. 'We can.'

Ed hesitated outside the door to the department, unsure what to expect, nervously pulling at the hem of his uniform jacket. Although Carl had warned him, facing the reality wasn't as simple. It was better to get it over with quickly, but that didn't help with his nerves.

All he had to do was go in, cross the foyer and go up the stairs, he reminded himself. Walking across a room shouldn't be so hard. He'd done it a hundred times before. He'd done more difficult things in the previous few days. This should be straightforward. And he couldn't waste more time. He didn't want to be late.

With one more deep breath, he steeled himself, pushed open the door and walked inside.

One by one, people noticed him, and a hush swept round the room as he moved forward, rising up like the swell of the sea. It was busier than he'd expected. Most people were just standing around, and Ed got the unpleasant feeling they were loitering deliberately, waiting for a scene. He felt obvious, aware of the cuts and bruises, the bandage round his hand and the very slightly crumpled state of his clothes.

He kept walking. Everyone was pretending not to watch him, and the pressure of their askance looks made Ed feel even more uncomfortable. This was worse than he thought it would be. Acutely aware of the growing attention, he dipped his head, looking to the floor, trying to get through the room as unobtrusively as he could. It didn't work and the further into the foyer he went the more he felt as if he had flashing lights over his head, broadcasting the words "Look at me!". He hated this. He-

'Brown!'

Ed jerked to a stop and looked round at the sound of his name, recognising the voice. He swallowed hard. This was the last thing he'd wanted to happen. These were the last people he wanted to talk to. Ever.

His heart sank as he watched Sam Delaney make his way over, with Larry, Dalton and Jerry following behind. As they did, it felt as if the whole of the room turned their prying gaze on him, and there was a collective intake of breath. Everyone was watching, and everyone knew what had happened between them. The room was alive with anticipation.

Sam kept coming closer, then stopped abruptly a few feet away. They stood face to face in silence. Ed tensed, his chest tight, making it hard to breathe. Not only had these men thrown him out of his home, at least one of them was involved in Leo's death, and was the direct cause of all the trouble and misfortune that had followed him since.

Automatically, he gripped his left wrist, feeling the loss of his watch yet again. The tangled mix of painful emotions from the past few days clouded his judgement and he had the powerful, urgent need to punch Sam as hard as he could and watch with spiteful satisfaction as he collapsed to the floor.

The sensation was gone in a moment, leaving him with a hollow sense of confusion and regret. However hurt and betrayed he felt by their actions, it was in the past and nothing could change it or bring back what he'd lost. Punching out Sam in the middle of the Department foyer might have felt good, and probably get a round of applause from the men watching, but it wasn't how he was going to react. He might still be bitter and angry and hurt, but that didn't mean he was going to solve this problem with his fist. He didn't want to be that sort of man, or that sort of cop.

Instead, he waited, staring at Sam.

'I made a mistake,' Sam said after a long pause. His voice sounded thick, as if his mouth wasn't working properly. There were indistinct murmurs of something similar from the three men behind him.

Ed kept staring. As apologies went, it wasn't much and he was within moments of walking away. They all knew what had happened afterwards, that he'd been robbed of his engagement present, beaten, searched and nearly killed. "I made a mistake" wasn't going to cut it, especially with the unanswerable question about their motives and their loyalty. He didn't know what to think.

A dropping pin would have sounded like an earthquake in the brittle, hushed silence of the foyer. Ed looked at Sam and the others behind him, the nagging doubt shouting for his attention. One of them must have killed Leo. One of them had murdered their friend. Was he just going to let it go? Pretend it was all alright? He found he could barely breathe. His control was slipping, and Ed floundered for a way to end this conversation without taking a swing or saying something thoughtless that he might regret.

'I know you did,' he managed to say.

They stood there in silence, surrounded by a room full of people watching the exchange. And Ed still couldn't drag himself away, pressure building in his chest. He wanted to confront them with what he knew, right now and demand answers. He hadn't expected to feel like this, he didn't know-

'Brown!'

For the second time, Ed started at another familiar voice. From beside the stairwell, Sergeant Anderson stomped over to stand at Ed's side, his expression much like the Chief's was when he was annoyed. Ed saw Sam and the others draw back, then Anderson turned to Ed, his expression curious rather than angry.

'What are you waiting for Brown?' he asked. 'The Chief's expecting you.'

He didn't wait for an answer, but glared at the other four.

'And you have work to do as well, don't you?' he demanded with a growl.

Again there were indistinct murmurs and the four men turned away, Sam casting one last look in Ed's direction as they did. Only when they were gone did the room around them start to come to life, now that the show was over.

Slowly, Ed let out a breath, the tension leaking away. He turned to Anderson, wanting to say something, but the sergeant had a strange, knowing smile on his face and looked pleased with himself. Ed got the distinct impression that Anderson knew something he didn't.

'I'd go right up,' Anderson said quietly, nodding to the stairs. 'You don't want to keep him waiting.'

There was a sharp rap at the door of his office. The Chief glanced up from the thick file he had on his desk in front of him.

'Come in.'

The door opened slowly and Ed Brown stepped inside, a nervous frown on his face. Ironside gave him a nod of greeting, encouraging him to enter, then looked back down to the paperwork and started writing again.

'Take a seat, Ed.'

Out of the corner of his eye, Ironside saw Ed do as he was asked, sitting down quietly to wait.

It took a few minutes, but after the Chief had finished writing he closed the file and leaned back, looking directly at the officer in front of him. In many ways, he looked worse than he had yesterday. The bruises had developed into a range of rainbow colours, the cut on his lip was still swollen, even though some of the other cuts were staring to fade. But he also looked less pale, and the dark shadows under his eyes had faded after a reasonably good rest and some proper food.

'I have a problem,' he said, coming right to the point, not wanting to waste time. It was better to get the difficult part out of the way before they got to the main reason he's called him to the office.

'You do?' Ed asked cautiously.

The Chief nodded.

'Or, to be exact, we do.'

'We do?'

He nodded again and picked up the file he'd been working on.

'Read that,' he said. 'First two pages.'

Again, Ed did as he was asked, and this time the Chief was the one who waited. He watched, and saw Ed's expression change from curiosity to confusion.

'Chief? I'm not sure I understand,' Ed admitted once he finished reading. 'Didn't Quill tell you anything about Leo?'

Ironside gave a slight smile.

'That's the report I gave to the Commissioner,' he replied. 'And it's the reason the suspect is on a one way trip to New York and the gas chamber.'

Ed frowned down at the page in front of him.

'The reward was from New York? And they'll charge him for murder?'

'Four murders,' Ironside said. 'And there isn't going to be a reprieve, not with what happened.'

Ed was still frowning, and Ironside waited.

'And Leo?' he asked after a pause.

Ironside gestured at the file again.

'I don't know if you've heard the rumours. Word around the corridor is that Quill's guilty but we only have circumstantial evidence.'

Ed looked disturbed by that statement. Before he could ask any questions, Ironside handed him another file, his own personal report on what had happened so far, including Ed's own accounts, and the summary of the interview with Quill. It took Ed several minutes to read it. When he finished, he closed the file and handed it back, as stony expression on his face.

'Well?' Ironside asked.

'He didn't really tell you anything, did he?' Brown said. He tried to hide it, it was obvious that Ed was bitterly disappointed.

'Not every case is simple, open and shut,' he said. 'Did you expect him to tell us everything and make it easy for us?'

Ed paused for a moment, his mouth pressed shut in a thin line. Then he shook his head.

'I just thought there'd be more to go on,' he said thickly.

'Our job with Quill is done,' Ironside told him. 'We wanted to bring the man in. We did and that's the end.'

Ed looked like he was going to argue, loudly and angrily, but Ironside didn't let him.

'That was our first job.'

'First?' Ed managed to say.

'Yes. That investigation is closed. But one of my officers helped the suspect get away that morning and finding out more is our next job. We know he wasn't working alone.'

An awkward look crossed Ed face, but he didn't speak.

'Whoever Carelli was working with knows we don't know who they are,' continued Ironside. 'We know it was almost certainly one of the policemen on duty that morning. It is probably someone he knew well.' To the Chief's surprise, Ed hardly reacted at all to that statement beyond pursing his lips. 'They think they've gotten away with it. But we are going to be watching.'

There was a short pause and the Chief leaned forward, giving Brown a hard look.

'Thanks to your observations, Quill did tell us some important information,' he said. 'Carelli told Quill he was a friend of a friend. Quill thought he was annoyed at the deal, that he was being short-changed for the job.' Ironside paused. 'He wanted twice the reward money, ten thousand. He agreed to meet Quill later. And we also know he double-crossed his partner, or partners.'

As he'd spoken, Ed became steadily more tense but as the Chief said the last sentence he flinched. But Ironside continued, relentless in his logic.

'Query,' he said. 'How did Carelli get involved? Why did he need the money? Why did he double-cross his partner? Why did he end up dead? Who shot him?'

Brown shook his head at the barrage of questions, unable to form any answers, but Ironside didn't let up.

'And how did he know about the reward?' he asked. 'How was Quill tipped off in the first place? All those questions need answers. We have to find those answers. That's our next case.'

In the silence that followed, Ed pursed his lips more tightly, looking to the floor. Ironside scowled at him.

'Do you have something to add, Officer Brown?' he demanded angrily, challenging the man to speak up.

'What about the calling card?' he asked.

Ironside blinked at the unexpected question. Considering what happened, was it a surprise that Ed hadn't forgotten about that? And it was a good question, and showed that Brown was thinking like a cop, covering all the angles. He gave a tiny nod of approval.

'I'd take a guess that Quill was right. Someone set him up, an enemy, a rival, someone with a grudge. They took his card, set him up and tipped off our informer. We will probably never find it.'

Ed nodded, resigned, disappointed and unsure, as if he'd made a mistake in asking. The expression was similar to the one he'd had this morning when he talked about slipping up and blowing his cover.

Ironside waited a few moments, working out how best to help. Doubts were part of being alive, but Ed needed to learn to trust himself again.

'Do you know why I didn't fire you that morning?' he asked suddenly. 'The morning of the shooting?'

Confused, Brown shook his head. Ironside paused, waiting until Ed looked directly at him before talking again.

'It was because you told me the truth. You told me that you swapped, and you told me about the argument. Maybe you held a little back, but you were honest. And you were honest again, telling me about your talk with Quill, that you slipped up, that you nearly blew your cover.'

A look of shame crossed Ed's face as Ironside spoke, but he didn't break eye contact.

'Both times you made a mistake, and you were honest enough to admit it. The first time earned you a second chance, and the second helped me get what we needed from Quill.' He paused to let Brown absorb the meaning of the words. 'If's and maybe's don't help anyone, we all make mistakes sometimes. But learn from them, Ed. Don't repeat them.'

Ed looked away and stayed quiet for a long moment, then he nodded.

'I understand, Chief,' he said.

'Good,' he said firmly, pleased with the way Ed had responded. 'So I take it that you'll be wanting these.'

He reached into the drawer by his side and pulled out three things: Ed's badge, his gun and a plain white envelope. He pushed the first two items across the table towards Brown.

'I assume you do want them back?' he said with an acerbic tone. To his surprise, Ed didn't respond immediately. Instead he picked both objects up, hefting them in his hands as if trying to understand what they were used for, a solemn and regretful look on his face.

'But the Commissioner?' he asked.

'Agrees with me. You were back on the payroll two days ago, logged as undercover. The overtime will come through next month.'

Ed looked confused again and made no reply, and Ironside quickly grew tired of the silence.

'Unless you don't want to work for me,' he demanded. 'Because now is the time to tel-'

'I do!' Ed replied, too loudly. 'Um, I mean, yes sir, I do want to keep working for you.'

'It's going to be blood, sweat and tears,' the Chief said. 'And that's assuming you make it all the way through to the end.'

Ed nodded, putting the badge in his pocket and fixing the gun back on his belt. Ironside waited until he was finished, then handed him the envelope.

'And this is yours as well,' he said.

Ed opened it, pulled out a cheque made out in his name. He frowned at the Chief.

'Four hundred and sixteen dollars, sixty six cents?' he asked. 'What did I do to earn-?'

'Eleven men on duty,' Ironside said crossly. 'Five thousand dollar reward. I take it you can divide?'

'The reward?'

'Did you help bring the man in?'

'Um, well, yes, but…'

'So did the ten other men at the Rum Runner yesterday.'

Ed half-opened his mouth, a slightly blank look on his face. Ironside out-scowled him, and he shut his mouth again, swallowing whatever objection he was trying to formulate. After another awkward moment, he put the cheque back in the envelope and tucked it into his inner pocket.

'Well now that's over with, you have work to do,' he said. 'But remember, sooner or later, corrupt cops will do corrupt things. We need to be ready.'

Ed gave a firm nod, and made as if to stand. Other than the physical changes there was something else different about him. For a man who'd deliberately courted death only hours before, Brown looked more at ease with himself. He'd been to the edge, and come back again. There would still be dark, difficult days, but the Chief had no doubt he would keep going, and keep rebuilding his confidence.

Inside, Ironside gave a proud, approving smile, glad he would get the chance to watch this young man grow and keep getting better as a cop. But on the outside, he scowled again.

Difficult parts finished, there was one thing left: the main reason he'd called him here.

'One more thing, Brown,' Ironside said gruffly, catching Brown by surprise, half out of his chair. He paused, suddenly wary again, and sat down. The Chief reached back into the drawer and pulled out a small brown paper bag, the kind you got from a candy store. Ed looked at it in confusion.

'There was a big bust on the fences downtown yesterday evening,' Ironside said, deliberately casual and restrained. 'Wallets, rings, jewellery, gems. And I recognised this from the description.'

Ed's frown deepened as he reached out to take the bag, then tipped the contents out into his hand.

A new-style Omega DeVille watch, with a cream dial and a silver strap and casing sat in his palm. It was slightly scratched on the lugs, and on the rim beside the crown, but other than that it looked as good as new. Ed stared at it for a few seconds as if he was dreaming, then he slowly turned it over to read the inscription on the back: With all my love, for all time, Anne.

He looked up, dazed, his mouth slightly open, and the Chief looked straight back at him.

'It is yours I take it, Brown?' Ironside demanded.

'How?' Ed managed to ask in a whisper.

Ironside had anticipated the question, and considered a number of responses. There were easy answers, but the one thing he definitely wasn't going to say was how he'd talked Murray into lending him some more men yesterday, and those officers, led by Sergeant Anderson, had spent ten hours working their way through most the fences on the downtown beat before they'd found it. And in exchange for not arresting the jeweller for handling stolen goods, the glass had been fixed for free.

'There are other competent police officers in this department, Officer Brown,' he said with a snap to his tone. 'And there have been other cases while you have been sitting around drinking tea and sneaking around hotels!'

'Y-Yes, but…?'

'But…?' growled Ironside.

'But it was broken,' Ed murmured, looking bewildered. 'The glass?'

'Probably had a buyer lined up,' Ironside said, deliberately trying not to appear interested in Ed's response. There was a long silence.

'Don't know what to say,' Ed murmured at last.

'You have to say anything,' Ironside replied.

Ed nodded absent-mindedly, and slipped the watch over his left hand, back onto his wrist. Ironside was about to say something else, about how they had too much to do to sit around wasting time, staring at bits of metal, when Ed look up at him.

He smiled.

It was only a small smile, but it was as unguarded, warm and genuine as it was unexpected. The Chief was taken by such complete surprise that he made no reaction to it at all. On reflection later, Ironside decided that had been a good thing, as if he'd shown just how surprised he was then maybe Ed would never have smiled in his presence again.

'Thank you, Chief,' Ed said.

Ironside gave a brisk nod, and scowled again, not wanting this to descend into sentiment.

'I expect you have work to do, Officer Brown?' he said.

Still with that same expression, Ed nodded once more. Then he stood, and headed out to the department.

Once alone again, Ironside looked at the closed door and shook his head in amazement. No, he wasn't imagining things. Officer Ed Brown had actually smiled. The image made the Chief smile himself.

I should have run a sweep, Ironside thought, his own smile growing wider. Well, there's always next time.

-x-x-

Epilogue

The sun had set, and the day was winding down. In his room, away from the eyes of the outside world, the man sat alone at his desk, going over what he knew and making sure of his logic.

Quill was long gone to New York. That was one good thing, he was out of the equation now. Chief Ironside had interrogated him before he left, but had been fooled into thinking he was lying about not killing Leo. It meant no one suspected anything amiss. That was also good.

But, unfortunately, everyone knew that Leo was on the take, and that was less good. Another less good fact was that Ed had been reinstated. It was a complication that he could have done without. It would have been better if Ed had resigned, or been fired. Cleaner. Less variables. Less to take into account.

Also in the less good column was the fact he was now five thousand short, and had lost a golden source of potential income. Where was he going to find another calling card like this one?

At the thought, he pulled a small flyer from his pocket and put it flat on the table, smoothing down the creases. As calling cards went, it was one of the best he'd seen, well-designed and with high quality print. It advertised one of the high-class clubs near the centre, and was completely unremarkable to anyone who didn't know what to look for. But it wasn't just an ad if you knew the secret.

Of course, it was useless to them all now and part of him wanted to destroy it. But that felt like a waste, it might still be of use at some point in the future. And besides, if it did become a liability, it would be easy to put a match to it and no one would be any the wiser.

When it had come into his possession, he'd immediately seen the possibilities, and how he could use it to tie up his loose ends. As plans went, it had been almost fool-proof. Unfortunately, a principled "fool" had managed to completely fuck it up. If Ed hadn't argued with Leo, if he'd just given in and walked away, then Quill wouldn't have seen him and jumped to the conclusion that he was involved.

None of this would have happened if Brown hadn't been such a fucking Boy Scout about everything!

However, it wasn't a total disaster. Leo was dead. No one else suspected he was involved. No one else knew about his system. All he had to do was keep up the act, keep under the radar, and the rest would take care of itself.

There was the sound of louder voices outside his room, and the man frowned. It was always so loud and busy at the boarding house. There was a brisk knock at his door.

'Hey come on, buddy!' his friend called. 'Get moving or you'll miss dinner. Mrs Parker has made apple pie for dessert!'

The man stood, folding the card and putting it back into his wallet, next to his badge. He smiled to himself.

Yes, keep up the act, and the rest will take care of itself.

The End

Ironside will return.

If you've enjoyed this story, please leave a review and let me know!

Author Notes.

-Thanks-

Heartfelt thanks to *everyone* who had reviewed or commented or emailed. I'm sure you can all guess by the erratic way I updated that Real Life has been incredibly difficult over the past six months, and I genuinely couldn't have got this finished without the kind comments and enthusiasm of my readers.

But what would be a good way to thank you all? I think the best way would be to write more Ironside fic!
I have a couple of shorter ones to work on for a while, but I hope to start posting the next longer one in the New Year. I'll update my user info and let you know how it's all coming along.
And I want to thank Realmlife again for their beta-reading and generally putting up with me. I owe you more fish.

-References-

"Last Exit for the Lost" is a song by The Fields of the Nephilim.
Some chapter titles were from other works
"Best laid plans" "Of Mice and Men" is the anglicised version a line from the Robert Burns poem "To a Mouse".
"Let it come down" is from Macbeth, Act 3 Scene 3.
"Your Sudden Death Question" is also the title of an Inspect Lewis mystery.
"Let's go out with a bang!" is a song by AJR

-Other Ironside episodes-

As noted before, Larry Carr shows up being a jerk in S5 E11 "If a Body See a Body"
There is an Andy Anderson in S1 E5 "The Taker"
Lieutenant Burwell is in S4 E10 "The Man on the Inside"
Lieutenant Murray Simon is in S2 E21 "Moonlight Means Money"
Carl's family is referenced in S7 E14 "Friend or Foe", where his daughter is named Tina. His wife's name, Marie, is from "Walk like a Panther".
That's also the episode where the Rum Runner Hotel comes from.

And Mark showing up was a complete accident. But I'm sure his involvement in this will be resolved at some point, most likely after he's started working for the Chief. That sounds fun to explore.

-Music-

This was outlined to the song "Walk like a Panther" by the All Seeing Eye. There's not much evidence of it left, but every so often there are allusions to parts of that song.
Zombie - Bad wolves
Let's go out with a Bang! - AJR
El Dorado - Stellar
Paralyzer - Finger Eleven
Do I Wanna Know? - Arctic Monkeys
Erase and Rewind - the Cardigans
Teeth - 5 Days of Summer
Discord - The Living Tombstone (I know, I know!)
I'd never have finished Chapter 14 without "Wrongly Associated" by System46 which was recced by a friend. Thank you Essay-Rider :)