Chapter 2

The Perks of Overtime

Sergeant Ed Brown walked slowly though the exit of the hospital, feeling the warmth of the hazy sun, and drew a long, deep breath. In the near distance was the usual busy bustle of the rush hour traffic, the growl of cars and the occasional beep of a horn. It had the outward look of a normal morning, but it wasn't even eight yet, and he'd already been in and out of hospital. That was not the start to the day he'd hoped for.

Trying to second guess his decisions over the past few hours was pointless, but that didn't stop him worrying. Maybe he should have called the Chief earlier, but it was too late to change that. With everything that had happened, and trying to get out of the hospital as quickly as possible, he'd not called his boss purely because he didn't want to explain what had gone wrong over the phone. It was too early to deal with being shouted at by the Chief. His head hurt enough as it was, he didn't need his ears ringing as well.

The fresh air helped clear the dull ache in the side of his head and across the bridge of his nose. His jacket was folded over one arm, his shirt sleeves were rolled back, and his tie hung loose round his neck. Even out in the fresh air, Ed could still smell the dust and disinfectant. They'd wanted to keep him in for observation, concerned about the occasional dizziness and his fragmented memory, but he didn't like the thought of being trapped in there for any longer than he had to. He was eager to get away and get back to work. He could figure out what to say to the Chief on the way in.

'Sergeant Brown! Hey, Sergeant!'

Ed turned to see a skinny, young patrolman with blonde hair standing beside a badly-parked black and white, one of the cars that the traffic department used. The man waved eagerly. Rolling his sleeves down, then swinging his jacket over one shoulder, Ed acknowledged the officer with a quick wave back.

'Hey, Sergeant,' repeated the man as Ed came close. 'Officer Erikson. I've been sent to collect you.'

Erikson held out his hand. Ed shook it and climbed into the car on the passenger side, noting the spotless traffic officer uniform and bright shoes. He gave a fond smile. Nothing said "Rookie Cop" like a crisply starched uniform and shiny shoes. Was it any different back when it had been his turn to run around after other officers?

They pulled out of the parking lot without speaking. Ed didn't feel much like making conversation, but fortunately he didn't need to, since Erikson was keen to get Ed up to speed on what was going on, as soon as they were on their way.

'I'm from traffic,' Erikson said, as if Ed hadn't already noticed the uniform and the car. 'The Commissioner is having a fu-, ah, yeah, sorry, he's real concerned about what happened at the Kingston Building. Traffic is coordinating with the fire department in making sure the area is cordoned off. Man, there was a lot of dust, and Fire's had to close some of the nearby shops and evacuate the buildings for two blocks downwind. The cordon runs much closer to here than I thought they'd make it…'

Ed wasn't interested in the details, certainly not as interested as Erikson must have assumed, so he was content to let the commentary wash over him, and just made encouraging remarks at regular intervals rather than listening. The drive didn't help settle his thoughts. There was the familiar need to work, and something was nagging away at the back of his mind. Whatever it was, it was important but he struggled to remember. Other than being in hospital, the details of earlier that day was maddeningly blurry. When he got back to the office, away from distractions, maybe he could figure out what it was. Besides, he was still on duty and there was a lot of work to do.

They weaved their way erratically through the morning rush-hour traffic, and he looked out of the open car window, letting the air rush past him, staring at the San Francisco skyline that drifted by; the familiar houses, the trees, the clear, cobalt-blue, Californian sky above, and the Golden Gate Bridge lurking in the background. It wasn't until they made an unexpected left turn that Ed realised where they were going.

'Hey!' he said suddenly. 'This isn't the way.'

'Wait, what? I was told you live at…'

'You're taking me home?' snapped Ed. The other man tensed.

'But-'

'I'm not going home,' Ed repeated, jabbing his finger at the hapless traffic officer.

'But? Um? But they told me to drive you home.'

The car drew up at some lights, but Ed didn't say anything. There was no damn way in hell he was going home to his apartment. He hated his apartment at the moment. He hated being anywhere except at the office, where he could see what was going on all the time. And when Ironside eventually kicked him out in the evening, he would usually end up listening to the police band and responding to the calls when he could. Sometimes he'd fall asleep in the car lot beside the back door of his home block, only rushing inside at the break of dawn to grab a shower, shave and change his clothes.

And that was what was supposed to have happened last night. He'd lost track of the hour at some point, but then a call came over the wire from the Kingston Building, a two-eleven, in progress. All he'd done was stop to take a quick look before the beat cops showed up to take over.

A dreamy, fuzzy image of the inside of the Kingston Building drifted up through his mind. Dark and dusty, it was difficult to make out any details. A bittersweet smell of something unpleasant and unfamiliar had caught in the back of his throat and he tried to take a deep breath, but coughed instead. This wasn't right. He had missed something. A spike of anger hit his chest, why couldn't he do his job properly. It…

The daydream came to a halt was the lights changed and the car jerked forward, almost stalling in the process. For a Traffic cop, Erikson wasn't a great driver. And they were still heading back to Ed's apartment.

'Look, man, I mean, Sergeant,' Erikson said timidly. 'Straight up. I've gotta take you home. They were worried about a concussion, but the Commissioner said you didn't like hospitals. They were very clear that you only got out on the condition you went straight home. Those are my orders.'

Ed gave a slightly grudging half-nod. That sounded about right. The man could have made up some sort of story, but he hadn't and Ed was grateful for that.

'My boss got word from the Commissioner,' Erikson continued. 'Told him to get someone to take you home. Lieutenant Donally was very clear.'

Donally, that was typical! He should have known Tom Donally would be involved, they never had got on. Ed glared angrily out of the window. That wasn't going to make him change his mind. He had half an idea to let Erikson do his job and drop him off, then get a taxi straight back to the office, but he didn't want to waste any more time. Enough time had been wasted in the hospital with those damn tests. He felt an uncomfortable urgency to get back to base, as if he had missed an important appointment. He shouldn't be at home kicking his heals and popping painkillers in his lonely little apartment. He should be out there, looking for something. For something important, maybe for someone, he couldn't remember. He had missed something. It was important. He was a cop, he shouldn't keep missing things, he should be better than that.

'Your eyes are really red,' Erikson said, peering at him rather than the street. 'Were they sure you're ok?'

'I'm fine.' With the small interruption, the details drifted back annoying just out of reach again. 'I think there was a lot of dust. Or smoke. I'm not sure. And they gave me something for my headache.' Ed patted his jacket pocket, the one with the painkillers inside.

'Yeah, I suppose that would do it,' agreed Erikson. They drove on for a minute in subdued silence, Ed feeling more disagreeable every passing second. He didn't want to waste more time. He shouldn't be going home when he had a job to do.

'And you're sure they said you're ok?' asked Erikson suddenly.

'Yes,' replied Ed firmly. 'Have you got a problem?'

'Have you?' retorted Erikson, presumably forgetting that he was talking to a senior officer. 'You look like you've just done a line.'

'What?' Ed snapped, confused.

'It looks like you've got a bit of a drugs habit.' Erikson glanced round, looking away briefly from the traffic, and rubbed the underside of his nose then pointed at his passenger.

Ed lifted his hand to his own top lip, and felt a tiny trickle of blood under his fingertip.

'Damn it,' he muttered, reaching in his pocket for a handkerchief. 'If the Chief sees this he's going to have me on sick leave for a year.'

'You're secret's safe,' Erikson said. 'But you're not going to throw up in my car are you? I hate the smell, one of the reasons I left med school. Well, that and the hard exams. But it's not as bad as the smell of paint, man, do I hate the smell of paint. And painting is so boring.'

Now he thought about it, Ed did feel a little off-colour, like being drunk but not in the familiar, relaxing and pleasant way. It must have been the nose bleed or the injection he'd had at the hospital.

'I've felt better,' Ed admitted, 'but I promise I'll give you plenty of warning if it's going to get worse.'

'Maybe I should take you back to the hospital instead,' Erikson said. The car lurched forward again.

'No, it's just the dust,' Ed replied. Or maybe your driving. Fortunately, he didn't it say out loud. But he still had to get out of going home, and get back to the Chief's office. He only had one option. He didn't like to fool a fellow officer, but what else was there? Erikson had an open and genuine manner that Ed instinctively liked, it felt wrong to take advantage of that. He could see an honest cop when he met one.

Did the rookie have a first name? He couldn't remember if he'd mentioned it.

'Look, Erikson,' said Ed cautiously. 'I've gotta see my boss.'

'Oh, you mean Chief Ironside?' the man asked timidly. 'That boss?'

Ed nodded. Inwardly, he smiled. In certain circles, the Chief's awesome and terrifying reputation with everyone from underworld big-shots to young-and-green rookie cops was the only leverage a man would ever need. Ed leaned forward.

'The Chief will be on the case,' he said conspiratorially. 'You know he will. Can you imagine him not being on the case?'

'I suppose not.'

'I was there. I called it in. I was in the building. You can see I need to speak to him, as soon as I can.' He paused for effect. 'You can imagine he'll want all the details, he won't want to wait.'

'Well…' The young cop frowned, not liking where this was going. Ed wouldn't have done either and would have said so. But a rookie? It was too easy to take advantage of his naivety. Ed wasn't proud of himself for doing it, but if he wanted to get back to headquarters, it couldn't be helped.

'And I can't do that from home.'

'That's true.'

Now his cards were on the table, there was no way back.

'I know these are orders from your boss, and from the Commissioner.'

'Sergeant, I don't kn-'

'But Ironside needs me. I can't let him down.' He paused for effect again. 'We can't let him down.'

The sentence was left hanging. Erikson drove on to the next junction and slowed. For a moment, Ed thought he'd missed his target, but then the other man flicked the indicator to the right, so they would be travelling away from his house and back toward the department.

'Suppose you know what you're doing,' Erikson muttered. 'And it is Chief Ironside.' He said the name with the same kind of awed reverence that Ed had used when he was still in uniform.

What he'd said to Erikson wasn't untrue, even if it was misleading. Ironside would be given the case. It would be like trying to hold back a tornado to try and stop the Chief from getting involved. The Commissioner knew a losing hand when he saw one. Besides, it was the Kingston Building. Although Ed had missed a lot of the details while in hospital six months ago, when the campus was being renovated, he knew Ironside didn't like it.

It didn't take them long to get to the department, now they were going with the traffic rather than against it. Ed didn't speak, and Erikson was busy concentrating on driving and not stalling.

At last, the car pulled up at the Department, beside one of the side doors near the back. Ed smiled, grateful to the other man for helping him make a more discrete entrance. Having to field questions from his fellow officers was not something he liked doing, and he didn't want to waste more time giving the same non-answer over and over.

As he got out of the car, Ed felt a pang of guilt towards the other cop. He'd been played, and it wasn't Erikson's fault Ed didn't want to go home. He was going to get such a dressing down from Donally, and then the Commissioner, when they found out. So as the door closed, Ed leaned in slightly through the open window and held out his hand.

'Thanks for the lift, man,' he said. 'I owe you one.' A big one, he added to himself. A very, very big one.

Erikson beamed, leaning over to shake his hand firmly.

'It's Guy,' he replied with a self-conscious shrug. 'Anytime for a living legend.'

'Who? Me?' said Ed, smiling.

'Nah, your Boss. Put in a good word for me, yeah? See ya, Sergeant!'

The grin on Ed's face faded slightly as he stood up, now that did feel awkward. But it was too late, the car pulled off and he was left alone.

Once inside, he walked slowly through the corridors on auto pilot, not needing to think about his route to Ironside's office. Instead, he was thinking about what he was going to say to his boss. First, he was about two hours later than he should have been. If he was lucky maybe no one had noticed his absence. Maybe he could get away with it as long as he looked presentable, and got a cup of coffee from the pot before Ironside gave him the inevitable third degree.

As Ed climbed the stairs from the ground floor, he did up his top button and tightened and straightened his tie. Then he swung his jacket round to put it on properly, smoothing it down and trying to clean some of the dust off. He paused and looked down at himself, noticing one sleeve and side of his jacket was decidedly more dusty than the other, and spent a moment trying to brush it off. He didn't enjoy looking untidy, but he'd refused the offer of different clothes. After a few more seconds to brushing, he decided that was the best he could do, just about smart enough so no one would think that he'd just come from the hospital.

Weaving though the corridors and up the stairs, he reached Ironside's office in less than a minute, having successfully avoided everyone else. He could hear Ironside talking loudly from the far end of the hallway. Well, he's not in a good mood, Ed thought. Then he pushed open the door and walked inside.

All noise stopped in an instant. They were all staring at him and Ed realised that they had been talking about him. It really wasn't his lucky day.

When he noticed Fran standing beside the Chief at the table near the window, Ed mentally cursed himself. It was Fran's first official day on Ironside's staff. With all the fuss of nearly being blown up, he'd completely forgotten. Dennis Randall was sitting opposite the Chief, his face slightly flushed and flustered, as if he'd just been shouted at. Mark was on the other side of the Chief and silently mouthed what was possibly a swear word as his eyes went wide in amazement.

Ironside sat there, glaring in furious silence as Ed walked forward. Unsure, he came to a halt at the top of the ramp. Other than Mark's slight movement, they stayed still, like a picture. Ed looked from the Chief to Mark then to the Commissioner, taking note of their concerned expressions. As well as knowing about his trip to the hospital this morning, maybe someone from Internal Affairs had finally spoken to his boss about his extra work. Damn, he'd thought it would be a couple of weeks before that would happen, enough time to sort something out. Was there anything else that could go wrong?

At Ironside's right side Fran shifted uncomfortably, crossing her arms.

Well, he thought, except that.

They didn't get on. He'd tried to hide it from the Chief, but as had been abundantly clear from their first, hideous undercover "date" at the casino, he and Fran did not see eye to eye at all. He'd known the Chief would ask her to stay on in his team, he'd figured that out before they had finished their first conversation, even if it had taken Ironside a while to catch up. But he was at a loss as to how to clear the air between them. He'd tried being nice, she had just lost her father to murder after all. He'd tried being nasty, when they had traded immature insults in the casino. Then he'd tried being himself and that hadn't worked either. None of it had worked and he didn't know how long he would last if he couldn't make some sort of connection, even just professionally.

They couldn't work together like this. If things had been different, if Eve had never left, if Richards hadn't tried to take revenge on the Chief, he might not be in this impossible position. If only he had been more careful that day, if only he had got himself and Eve out while he still had the chance.

Why am I thinking about this now?

Unwelcome, yet familiar, images crashed through reality, the clarity and force of the memories taking his breath away. Taken by surprise, Ed grabbed on to the stair rail to keep his balance. It wasn't like he'd not thought about what Richards had done to him that night in the warehouse. It wasn't as if he'd not woken up, entangled in sheets and drenched in sweat, night after night for the past six months. But this time, full colour images flooded his mind, not like the hazy fragments from this morning's explosion, but a specific memory from months before: He could see the grey shadows of the two other men. He could hear the voices and the sound of a badly tuned radio. The ever present smell of his own blood filled his nostrils. He could feel the pull of metal cuffs on his wrists and the deep bite of a well-controlled blade.

It was there for less than a second. With a huge effort, Ed pushed the memory away, shoving it as far back as he could. Then he gave an awkward cough, turning his back on the others. Damn it, he couldn't let the Chief see him like this, especially not after what had happened already today. Not when he needed to get on with his job. Quickly, he pulled his crumpled handkerchief out of his pocket and gave another, louder cough just to be sure no one would suspect.

'Ed?' It was the first thing anyone had said. There was deep concern in the Chief's tone, but it was mixed with tight anger.

'I'm fine,' he said, praying it was true. It wasn't that he enjoyed lying to his boss, but he wasn't going to walk out on this case. It was important. Any hint that he wasn't on the top of his game and he would have been out of there and back to the hospital.

'I'm fine. H-Have I missed anything?'

With hindsight it was a ridiculous thing to say, but Ed was caught off guard, flustered by the flashback. Any idea about building up slowly to an explanation vanished under the Chief's steely scowl. It was obvious they knew he'd just come from the hospital, they knew he had been inside the Kingston Building. They knew. Of course they knew, he was foolish to think that the Commissioner wouldn't have been over here like a shot to keep the Chief fully informed.

In that small moment, he realised how badly he missed Eve. She would have known in an instant that something serious had happened, and have already hugged him twice by now and been half way through scolding him for not going home when he was told. The cool distance in Fran's eyes was so different from how Eve would have reacted.

'Missed anything?' Ironside said in a low growl. 'Missed! Anything! What in the name of God are you doing here?' The obvious effort the Chief made to control his anger only made it that much more intimidating. Ed would have given almost anything to go back in time and restart the conversation.

'Well,' said Randall quickly, standing up. 'I'll just be going now. I think I have an appointment at Traffic.'

Ed gave an inner sigh of relief and gratitude to the Commissioner, as the full weight of Ironside's mute anger shifted to the other man.

'Dennis?'

'I think you can deal with this, Bob.'

Ed's gratitude vanished, but as the Commissioner passed him at the top of the ramp, he patted his arm gently.

'It's good to see you in one piece,' he said. It might have been his imagination, but Ed was sure he heard Randall mutter "good luck" as well.

'Why don't you take a seat, Sergeant Brown.' Ironside said as soon as the Commissioner had closed the door.

Hesitantly, Ed stepped down the ramp glancing to the kitchen and the tempting pot of coffee that was waiting there. Thirsty as he was, he wasn't brazen enough to ignore the Chief when he was this close to breaking point. Now he was here, maybe going home would have been the better idea. Ed blinked hard, as the grating feeling of forgetting something passed through his mind.

He had thought Mark might take the opportunity to run for cover as well, but his friend waited until Ed had sat down before taking the seat next to him, leaning back calmly. Fran watched him sit with that same cool, detached gaze, before perching on the edge of the chair next to the Chief, her posture like that of a coiled spring.

'I asked you a question, Sergeant Brown,' Ironside said. 'What are you doing here?'

'I work here?' he suggested uncertainly. The Chief didn't smile.

'Really, Sergeant? Is that all you have to say?'

'Well…'

'Less than five hours ago they almost had to scrape what was left of you off the wall of the Kingston Building.'

'I'm fine,' Ed hissed, not liking to hear the description of what had happened said in that way. 'The doctors said I was fine.'

'The doctors said you could go home. They did not say you should come in to my office and get straight back to work!'

'You've got the case,' retorted Ed, now feeling more angry than intimidated. 'You'll need my statement.'

'When I want your statement, I can come and get it. From your home. Mark, drive him back.'

Mark didn't move, but Ed stood suddenly, pushing back his chair with a screech.

'No!' snapped Ed. This was important, more important than just being stubborn and being scared of going home. There was something important he was supposed to do. He couldn't put the feeling into words, but there was a conviction that he felt with all his heart. He couldn't back out of his job now.

It took a lot to out-scowl Chief Ironside and seconds ticked by in silence as they stared at each other. Ed was not going to back down, not this time.

'Hey, man,' said Mark smoothly. 'You're here. Why don't you take a seat and you can tell us now. Then maybe you can go home straight afterward.'

Ironside immediately gave a furious huff as Ed sank slowly back down into the chair.

'Chief, it's important,' Ed said. 'It's really important.' Ironside's expression softened, and though the fuming anger was still apparent, he looked more worried than angry. 'I've tried to remember, and it's important.'

'It had better be,' the Chief growled.

They waited in strained silence as Mark stood and brought a mug and the coffee pot over to the table, and poured some out for Ed. He offered it to the others, but no one else accepted. Ironside hadn't taken his eyes off Ed. Then abruptly he turned to Fran.

'Take a note of what he says.'

The expression on Fran's face was not one of enthusiasm, but she nodded, reaching out for the pad and pen on the nearby table.

'Very well, Sergeant Brown,' the Chief said, as Ed took a tentative sip of the hot coffee. 'Why don't you tell us what you have been doing today? Why don't you start at the beginning. What happened when you arrived at the Kingston Building?'

The obvious question was "what in blue blazes were you doing there in the first place?", and a stab of panic went through Ed. Ironside knew. Damn it, he did know about the overtime, the warnings from Murray, the whole lot. Maybe if he hadn't gone and got himself almost blown up this morning, he would be dangling from a yard arm outside the Department of Justice, as a warning to those who aren't on the level with their boss. He was going to be locked up here doing filing and answering the phone from now until Christmas. Maybe the Christmas after that as well.

Why had he thought that the Chief wouldn't find out?

'When I arrived?' he asked carefully. That was hazy and hard to pin down details. The whole sequence of events was blurry and ill-defined, like a dream. Not being able to remember the specifics was one of the most infuriating parts of this whole mess. He was a trained police officer, accurate observation was the most basic skill they were taught. He couldn't even do that right. What was wrong with him?

Ironside narrowed his eyes, rolling his shoulders slightly forward.

'Or would you prefer to start at the end?' the Chief said. 'You called it in to base? Didn't you?'

Ed nodded. That part was a bit more clear. Or was it?

'I called it in on my radio,' he said slowly. 'From the car.'

An image formed of his new Ford Galaxie, with a small concrete block embedded in the hood and a massive dent in the roof. Yes, he thought, trying to pull the image into focus in his mind. The car was a right-off but he could still get to the radio. He had picked it up and called base. Even then, there had been the desperate whine of sirens all converging on where he was. Then there were people, a few medics making a fuss about him and asking questions, then he was bundled off to the hospital before many other officers arrived.

'And before that?' prompted Ironside.

'I remember coming to,' Ed replied slowly, furrowing his brow. 'I remember where. I was curled up against the wall, it was uncomfortable and cold. My head hurt.'

'I'm not surprised,' Ironside muttered. 'Considering you'd just lived through an explosion.'

That managed to make him feel even worse than he had a moment before. This kept happening, no matter how hard he tried or how many hours he put in, he kept on making mistakes. He couldn't keep doing this.

'How long were you out?' asked the Chief.

'Minutes maybe,' he replied, shaking his head slowly, still feeling troubled. 'Two? Five? I don't know.'

He recognised the look on Ironside's face as he spoke, and wished he could be less vague. Any sign that he was concussed or confused and he'd be back in that hospital before he could say "ambulance".

'And the explosion?' Ironside's voice was hushed now, the anger replaced by genuine concern. It was almost too much for Ed to bear at that moment. He didn't want to acknowledge that his excessive overtime might have caused his boss more worry. Ironside had taken Eve's resignation hard, even beneath the gruff exterior it was clear that Ironside missed her company even more than he missed a fourth member of his team. One of the hardest parts of that whole terrible mess to accept was that Eve had gone, in spite of everything he had done to try and avoid that.

'Well?' asked the Chief. 'Sergeant Brown?'

In the following silence, Ed struggled to focus on the question, but he forced himself to pull the images out of the blackness. What had happened before? It was confusing, the details floating just around the corner, as if they were teasing him. Or he didn't want to remember. More than that, he could feel other memories edging out the details, memories he had no intention of engaging with today not after the overwhelming flashback he'd just experienced. He shifted in discomfort, feeling the way his badly tucked-in shirt rubbed against the scars on his abdomen. The thoughts linked, and he was aware of the way his holster didn't sit the way it used to, and how the new skin on his side had rubbed, and how he'd moved his watch to his other wrist to cover the more obvious scar.

Why was this on his mind so much today? Weren't there more important things to be thinking about?

'Ed!' He jerked in surprise at Ironside's taught tone. 'The explosion?'

Fragments were all he could focus on, like a puzzle, images of a dark corridor and a half-open door, always surrounded by a suffocating heat and an unfamiliar and unpleasant smell that had burned his nose and made it hard to breathe. He'd had to take big gulps of the air just to keep upright, each breath getting harder and harder to take.

He shook his head, frustrated and upset that he found this so hard. He couldn't be sure of anything.

'Well, what happened just before the blast?' the Chief asked.

'I think I was still inside,' Ed started to say.

'Obviously,' Fran put in, speaking for the first time, looking up from her notes. Her tone was anxious as well, but Ed thought he detected a brittle hint of annoyance. 'Surely you should have known something was going to happen?'

Yes, he had known something was wrong. What had kept him from leaving? Or did it all happen so fast that he'd had no chance to react? No, he'd felt he needed to stay to make sure he hadn't missed anything, to make sure there had been no mistake.

'I don't see why you didn't just get out of the building…' Fran started to say.

She continued to speak, but those word were all Ed heard, as a cascade of memory came sweeping up out of the blackness of his memory and pushed him back to the past.

He's standing there, inside the Kingston building. The stairs are behind him, he's leaning against a wall in a low-roofed basement. A young woman is crouched close by. She holds out her hand. He staggers over to her, grabbing her hand and helping her to stand. He can feel her shaking.

'Get out,' she gasps as she stands. 'We've gotta get out of the building.'

Ed felt the blood rush from his head, leaving him lightheaded and dizzy. Then he looked up at his boss horrified, not just by the memory, but more because while he was getting fussed-over in hospital, she could have been lying there, under the rubble, alone and injured, maybe hoping he would get help and get her out of there. She was someone else he had let down.

'Ed, what is it?' Ironside asked in a whisper. 'What do you remember?'

It felt like the words took forever to form, but at last Ed managed to gasp:

'There was someone else there. A woman.'