AN - I'd again like to thank people who have PMed me and left reviews for your encouragement. I appreciated it very much. -x-

Chapter 5

Back to Front

Ironside watched the heavy machinery as it trundled slowly over to the damaged building. Workmen were moving some of the smaller debris, the clear up starting, and members of Frank's staff were still working on-site as well. Mark waited silently beside him. For the moment, there wasn't a great deal the Chief could do but wait, and use the time to think.

He tried to focus on the building, the explosion, and what he had heard from Frank. But instead of the here and now, he kept finding his thoughts pulled back to earlier at the office. He remembered Brown walking unsteadily down the ramp, how he'd sat anxiously at the table, and the disjointed explanation he'd given of what had happened. Had Ed been confused enough to imagine seeing the mystery girl? The unexpected way he'd remembered gave the Chief pause to consider the possibility, however unlikely it was.

Ironside didn't like how this was working out. Maybe he had been wrong to let the sergeant join them at the scene. Maybe he had been wrong to let him look for that girl. He gave a sigh. There were always so many things to be wrong about. He felt like he spent most of his time being wrong these days. Nothing felt like it was going right, not since Eve left.

Eve. He could picture her now. She would have been fussing over Ed in that motherly way she used with them all. Her gentle smile and her calm concern were very different from how Fran had reacted. Fran was a wonderful woman, smart, strong and caring. He knew she was a fine officer and would be a good addition to his staff; if they could ever get past the antagonism between her and Ed. It had been simmering since they'd first met, although the atmosphere had been less tense over the past few weeks. But now, with this, it had flared up once more, just when he needed them both to be at their best.

He looked blankly at the damaged building in front of him, silently cursing his decisions over the past few months. If he'd stopped Ed when Mark had suggested it last night, then maybe they wouldn't be in this mess. If he'd stopped Ed before, if he'd spoken to him weeks ago when he first began to have suspicions that his sergeant was overworking, then maybe they wouldn't be in this mess either.

Ironside shook his head. This mess had started months ago when his own lack of foresight, and lack of faith, had left Ed in the hands of a man determined to exact his own uniquely painful sort of twisted justice. There was a cold, sickening chill that went through the Chief at the thought. He should have trusted the man he knew, and not reacted so slowly. He should have done what Mark had said, and caused an earthquake rather than following procedure. Instead, Ironside had left Ed to suffer alone and let him think that no one cared. The fact that it had been his only choice didn't matter. It should never have gone that far in the first place.

Since then, though Eve had left the force, they had worked hard, solved cases, brought murders and thieves and drug dealers to justice. They had helped Fran clear her father's name. They had done their jobs, just as they had done before. But somehow, in the intervening time, he'd missed the fact that his sergeant, one of his closest friends, was heading over the cliff edge to self-destruction.

Beside him, Mark was shifting in an anxious fashion that Ironside recognised. He could guess what the other man was thinking, that this should have been over and done with last night. But he was grateful to Mark for not putting that thought into words. He looked up.

'Something wrong, Mark?' he asked eventually.

'I was going to say the same to you,' Mark replied.

'Nothing. Everything.'

'That makes two of us.'

Ironside gave a tired laugh.

'We can't get this case closed soon enough for me,' the Chief said with great feeling.

'I was gonna say,' Mark replied. 'Because don't we have somewhere else to be? I mean, away from the newly bombed building?'

'Nervous, Mark?'

'Yes! Why aren't you?'

'Frank said it was stable.'

'Yes, but I don't like the way it leans out, man.'

Ironside looked at the wall Mark had pointed at.

'That's the old building,' Ironside said, recognising it. 'One that's survived earthquakes. They just rebuilt the front when the building was renovated.'

'Still doesn't look safe to me.'

It didn't look safe to Ironside either, not at first glance, but he also could see the corner of the original structure, and that was still standing firm with only a few little chunks of the stonework missing. The rest of what had been there, the glass and the steel, had just vanished.

'They didn't find anyone else inside,' Mark added. He looked at his boss with his eyebrows raised. 'No sign of the girl. Is that a good thing, or bad?'

'I'm not sure,' Ironside admitted. There was something very wrong. He could sense it without Frank's warning, or even Ed's odd behaviour. 'What does your instinct tell you?' he asked Mark.

'My instinct says to stay away from the damage,' he replied. 'And stay away from the Kingston Building.'

A small smile spread across Ironside's face. He nodded.

'You have good instincts, Mark,' he said. 'This is a dangerous place to be.'

'I don't get why there are so many people here,' Mark said, gesturing at the building. 'If I had a choice…'

'If you had a choice, you'd be long gone,' finished Ironside. 'So would I. So would anybody.'

'Yet they're all still hanging here.'

'Some people love a spectacle,' the Chief said.

He looked around again, seeing people moving, walking, working, some police officers keeping the crowd back, Frank and his assistants examining in the debris. There were onlookers staring in grim fascination at the destruction, but most people looked like they were going about their business.

Thoughtfully, he looked at the area cordoned off, then glanced in the direction Fran and Ed had gone.

'What else do you see,' he asked Mark.

His friend looked around. 'The blast made a mess of the parking lot.'

This time Ironside smiled more widely.

'And?'

'And nothing, just the parking lot.'

Ironside nodded approvingly.

'The blast was powerful enough to take the front off a building, but most of the windows nearby, and the rest of the building itself, are hardly touched.'

'I don't know much about explosions,' said Mark, 'but I'm gonna guess that that's not what usually happens.'

'Exactly.'

'Frank said something was wrong. Do you think that's what he meant?'

'That. And more, most likely.' Ironside frowned. 'I don't like this.'

'Why?'

'Apart from the report from HQ's top lab technician?'

'Apart from what Frank said,' persisted Mark. 'What else is getting you down about this place?'

'Curtis Kingston.'

'Apart from him, too.'

'That's a good question,' Ironside murmured. This didn't make sense. It made even less sense that Ed Brown had been right here, in that very building, when it happened. 'It's as if we're looking at two different cases. One with the exploding building and one with Ed and his mysterious girl.'

'What are you going to say to Ed,' Mark said unexpectedly.

Shaking his head, the Chief shrugged.

'Why?' he asked.

'Well, I'd figure it out pretty quick, because he's on his way over. Look!'

Mark pointed toward one of the far buildings, and a man with a familiar rolling gait was striding over the debris field, his hands in his pockets, head lowered. The Chief and Mark exchanged pointed looks, but Mark didn't say anything.

As Ed drew closer to the van he saw the others, and slowed his pace, but he didn't try to avoid them. He came to a stop by the side door, just next to the Chief, resolutely staring at the ground. Ironside waited as Ed drew a shuddering breath.

'You were right,' he said eventually, an unusual, angry edge to his voice. 'There, I've said it. You're right. You win.' Ironside regarded his colleague in silence. Ed's mouth was clamped shut in a thin line, his frown deeper than usual, and he still didn't make eye contact with his boss. 'Everyone keeps talking about me like I'm some kind of walking miracle. It's really getting on my nerves.'

He suddenly looked at Ironside. His eyes were still tinged with red and had the slightly glazed look of someone who'd had a skinful and was trying to hide it.

'I don't need you to say I-told-you-so, Chief.' His tone was bitter.

Ironside silently cursed his decision to let Ed come along. The man in front of him was in need of help, anyone could see that. But what help could they give and, more importantly, what help would he accept? And they still hadn't even touched on the subject of Ed's all-night working and the complaints. But maybe this was an opportunity to give the man an enforced break and let him get a bit of perspective.

At Ironside's side Mark moved again, tapping Ed on the shoulder.

'I think Fran's had some luck,' he said.

Ironside looked around and saw Fran on her way over to the van with a young man, about twenty or so, beside her. When Ed saw them, he scowled, something Ironside had not expected.

'Chief,' Fran said breathlessly, sounding like she had rushed over. 'This is Tim Montgomery.'

Ironside regarded the youth carefully. He was about twenty, with short dark hair and a constant curve to his brow and his top lip, as if he looked down on everything. The Chief held out his hand and Tim shook it. But Ed didn't look at him at all, coldly staring off into the distance.

'You'll want to hear what he has to say,' Fran told the Chief.

Tim moved trying to attract Ed's attention.

'Hey man, I didn't mean to get under your skin like that,' he said. 'It's just, you know…' he trailed off as Ed still didn't look at him. The Chief watched the exchange with growing concern. Had Ed stormed off? Worse was the dark look Fran gave him as well. What the blazes had happened?

'What do you have to tell us?' Ironside asked, making a deliberate attempt to get the conversation back to what it was supposed to be. Fran passed him a picture of a pretty, young woman with long, wavy, brown hair and a bright, fun-loving smile.

'That's Katie Marshall,' said Fran. 'That's the girl Ed saw.'

There was a peculiar relief to that statement, tinged with confusion. At least Ed hadn't imagined her, but if he hadn't, then where was she? And what had really happened inside the Kingston Building this morning?

'I'm her boyfriend,' said the young man quickly. 'Well, was, as we split a few weeks ago.'

'Have you seen her today?'

'Not today. I might have, y'know, not been speaking to her, any more. I was pretty cut up and I didn't want to see her.'

The young man gave a sigh, loss and regret and confusion on his face. Young love, thought Ironside, nothing is ever so painful, so messy, or so heartbreaking. Not until you grow up and discover love was always painful, messy and heartbreaking.

'And?' prompted the Chief.

'Last night,' he said. 'I hadn't seen her since we split, and then last night she just showed up at my door.'

'What happened? Why was she there?'

Tim looked around, ill-at-ease.

'She was high, and not just on the good stuff, you know what I'm saying?' He gave Ironside a look.

'She was taking something?'

'She'd tried some junk once or twice,' he said. 'Nothing heavy.'

'And last night?'

'I don't know what she took, but she looked high, I mean really high. She was all keyed up and talking crazy about uncovering a secret plot, saying that something bad was going down.' He paused, a crestfallen look on his face. 'At the Kingston Building.'

The Chief waited, not speaking, watching the young man carefully. After a moment or two of hesitation Tim continued.

'And,' He drew a deep breath, 'and she wanted me to go with her to take a look. I said no. We argued and she left. Next morning most of the Kingston Building is decorating the parking lot.'

'Why didn't you go?' Ironside asked gently.

'I-I just didn't feel like it.' The Chief immediately sensed a lie.

'Tim, you need to tell us,' he said firmly.

'But-'

'We have to find out what's happened to Katie, and why. You can help us, can't you?' The boy pursed his lips and Ironside leaned forward in his chair.

'We are going to find out eventually,' he said. 'I would rather it was sooner, not later. Katie might need help sooner, not later.' He let the sentence hang.

Tim ran his hand through his hair, then rubbed the back of his neck. Ironside kept silent.

'It's not my bag any more,' Tim said at last. 'I don't want to stick it to the man, I just want to get my degree and get on with my life. I-I only joined the group because of her.'

'The group?'

Tim paused, pursing his lips, looking acutely uncomfortable with the way the conversation was going. It took a few moments for him to speak.

'There was a radical group,' he said quietly. 'Some of the students who go to the Kingston labs were into… well… they'd been causing trouble for the staff. Protests. Breaking in and disrupting experiments. That sort of thing. Nothing heavy.'

Admitting this to the police must have been tough, as Tim struggled with the words.

'Tim,' Ironside said firmly, and the boy looked at him. 'We're not worried about that at the moment. We just need to know what Katie told you last night. What was she going to do?'

'She was going to break in,' he said, his voice shaking. 'She said that she'd found proof that the staff were breaking the law, big time. That they were into something real bad.'

'Did she say what sort of proof?'

Tim shook his head.

'That was the trouble,' he said, his voice building with anger. 'That was always the problem, she would go off with these crazy ideas and stir it all up and there was nothing. She wanted to be a journalist, she wanted to get the big scoop, but in the end I didn't think there was a story. I thought she made it up, she had before. That was before, this-' he gestured to the Kingston Building.

'And last night…?' Ironside prompted.

'Man, she was wired. She said she didn't care that the others had chickened out and wouldn't go. She was going to get the proof and publish it all over the papers, for everyone to see. Then they would know what he's like.'

'He?'

Tim shrugged.

'She didn't give a name. But someone here. And I just let her go. I didn't try to stop her. I called her crazy.' Tim's voice faded to a whisper. 'I said I never wanted to see her again.'

Ironside looked squarely at the boy. All he could see was grief and a terrible regret at words blurted out in anger. Maybe he'd loved her, maybe there was going to be no happy ending and he'd have to live with that regret for the rest of his life. Ironside gave a tiny shiver at the thought. Regret was the hardest emotion to live with.

'That's all?' he asked.

Tim nodded.

'Do you know where she might be now?'

This time Tim shook his head.

'She could be anywhere. I've no idea where she might be. If she's not in her rooms with Poppy, then I don't know. I hope she's okay.' The last sentence was said quietly and was laden with worry.

'Thank you for being honest,' the Chief said. 'We may need to speak to you later.' The boy nodded, but not with any enthusiasm. 'And Tim? We'll do everything we can to find her.'

Tim looked hopefully down at the Chief. Even as they looked at each other, the hope faded. Then Tim edged closer to Ed, who had remained uncomfortably silent through the whole conversation.

'Hey man, I hope you're okay,' he said. This time Ed looked round and gave a small nod, but his expression stayed blank. Tim turned back to Ironside. 'If you find anything, can you tell me?'

'We will,' Ironside said. Tim looked more reassured than he had before. With a final nod he turned away. Ironside watched him walk back to his room, wondering if that was all he knew. Maybe he would ask Fran to go and talk to him again, once they had a clearer idea of the cause of the explosion. And there was still the question of the other members of the group, and who had given Katie the drugs. Talking to Tim had raised more questions than it had answered, and how it tied in with the explosion, he couldn't see. But now, more than before, Ironside was sure that there was something more going on than the simple "gas main" explosion theory that Curtis Kingston had clung to so doggedly. His instinct told him that speaking to Kingston again should be top of his priority list. Well, almost.

Fran was glaring red hot daggers at Ed, her anger almost setting the air between them alight.

'Well, Chief?' asked Mark.

'Well, I for one want to have another talk to Curtis Kingston,' Ironside said firmly. He paused, looking at Ed, who was still staring off into the middle distance. 'And I think someone should go home.'

At the final word Ed looked around at his boss.

'I won't,' Ed said firmly. 'I won't stop half way through.'

'I didn't say stop,' replied the Chief in a reasonable tone. 'But you need to give yourself a break. Take the rest of the day off…'

'I won't just give up,' snapped Ed.

'Now you listen to me, Sergeant Brown,' he said loudly, hunching forward in his chair and squaring up for a fight. 'You are only here at my discretion.' Ed opened his mouth to answer back, but Ironside ignored him. 'Do not make me regret my decision.'

For a second it looked as if Ed might argue. Ironside saw the lines of tiredness and the discomfort on his face, and recognised the effort it had taken to keep going and do his job. At that moment, Ed had the look of a man who might fall asleep where he was standing.

'I suggest you go home and get some rest,' Ironside said firmly. 'Tomorrow is another day.'

There was an uncomfortable pause.

'Okay, Chief,' Ed said eventually, still sounding annoyed. 'You win.'

Ironside put his hand on Ed's arm.

'I understand what it's like to think you're not involved in something you feel you should be involved in,' he said with real feeling. Ed nodded, then he glanced across to where his crushed car was waiting for him in lot, covered in a thin layer of dust and twisted out of shape, with its front windshield blown in and the hood decorated with a block of masonry. Ironside followed Ed's gaze with a heavy heart. The sooner Brown was out of here the better.

'You look like a man in need of a lift,' said Mark. Ed made no reply, but gave a soundless sigh then walked round to the front passenger door. Mark looked at Ironside for a long moment, then gave a subtle nod to his boss.

'I'll do what I can,' he said quietly, so only the Chief and Fran could hear. Then he clambered into the driver side. Fran helped the Chief out of the way as the van reversed and pulled away from the building. It had barely disappeared around the corner when Fran spoke.

'What is wrong with that man?' she asked, the words fizzing with anger. 'I can't believe he'd act like that in front of a member of the public.'

Her sense of righteous indignation was almost amusing, considering to whom it was directed. Ed Brown was one of the force's most honest, dedicated and reliable officers, although Ironside would rather die than tell him that to his face.

'Chief,' said Fran. 'I don't understand.'

'What's there not to understand,' he said, deliberately keeping his tone light. 'That's what happens when you don't follow doctor's orders.'

'That's not what I mean,' she said curtly. 'And you know it.'

Ironside looked up at her, feigning mild surprise. She was a smart woman, after all she wouldn't be on his staff if she couldn't put two and two together and get four.

'What was he doing here this morning? Why was he inside the Kingston Building in the first place?'

'Well…'

'You didn't ask him,' she said, her eyes narrowing. 'Because you already knew. And don't tell me I'm wrong, because you didn't ask him back at the office either.'

Ironside sighed. When no reply came, Fran gave an angry huff and crossed her arms.

'I should know,' she said. 'Sergeant Brown is a danger at the moment. He almost hit that boy, Tim. Then what would have happened?'

'Fran, now isn't the right time for this conversation,' the Chief said, wondering if there would ever be a right time for a conversation like that. Fran wasn't listening to him.

'I'm beginning to wonder,' she continued, ignoring the look Ironside gave her, 'I think you keep him on your staff to keep him out of trouble rather than because he's a good officer.'

She glared at him, challenging him to tell her differently. Ironside didn't react, he stared back at her. Fran looked away first.

'Okay, I don't really think that,' she admitted angrily. 'But there is something.'

'Yes,' he said at last. 'There is. But that's for later. We have work to do.'

She gave a stilted nod of agreement, but Ironside wasn't fooled into thinking she had given up on finding out. But at least now he could think of a better way of telling her what had happened, rather than saying that Ed Brown was slowly driving himself insane with work to compensate for the trauma of being kidnapped, blackmailed and then tortured by a man who wanted revenge on the Chief. How did you drop that into a conversation?

'We need to get on with what's in front of us,' Ironside said. 'We should talk to Curtis Kingston.'

It was obvious to Ed that Mark wanted to ask him something, he had learnt to tell his friend's moods over the years, and there was no prizes for guessing what it was. So Ed turned slightly away from Mark to look out of the side window, determined not to break the silence.

For the first time in hours, days maybe, he felt tired, truly exhausted all the way through to his bones. He didn't want to talk, not just because he wouldn't like the subject but because he was worried he couldn't give coherent answers. The silence continued for almost all of the journey. Only when they turned onto Ed's street did Mark say something.

'Hey, Ed, you gonna be cool?'

How could a simple question be so hard to answer? For a moment Ed had no words to form a reply. He managed a small nod.

'Look, if there's something you need to say, man,' Mark said.

'It's fine,' Ed replied. It was obvious that Mark didn't believe that statement, Ed could see that very clearly. The van pulled up outside Ed's apartment, and Mark turned to look at him.

'You know the Chief,' he said ruefully. 'You know I have to ask. And you know I want to ask.'

Ed did know, that was the trouble. He knew Mark was worried. He'd deliberately dodged personal questions for months, feeling unable to burden Mark with his own problems. Mark had enough to worry about with the Chief. And he missed Eve too.

'I can't think about it anymore,' he said eventually, trying to only use short words, to be sure he wouldn't slur them together. 'I just need sleep, like the Chief said.'

There was an uncomfortable few seconds when Ed almost asked if the Chief knew why he was at the Kingston Building in the first place, if he knew about the complaints and the unpaid overtime. But neither of them spoke, then Ed opened the van door and quickly slid out. He gave Mark a wave.

'Later!' he said.

On Mark's face was a look of infinite compassion, and for a brief moment Ed had second thoughts about not saying anything. It was sometimes strange to think of Mark as his friend, how different could two men be? Different upbringings, different choices, different ambitions. Working for the Chief was what had initially brought them close, at a time when the Chief's life was in turmoil after the sniper. In time, they had found their own common ground and a respect that had defied the odds.

Ed rested his hand on the door, hesitating before shutting it. Did Mark miss Eve as much as he did? Did he speak to her often?

Under almost any other circumstances Ed would have stopped to talk, feeling an urge to connect. But he was exhausted, he didn't want to think in full sentences, he wanted to shut it all out and forget for a while. Besides, Mark had his own work to do helping the Chief. He shouldn't take up any more of his time, he was grateful enough for a lift from a friend.

'And Mark?' he said. 'Thanks.'

'Anytime, man, it's always a pleasure to chauffeur policemen around.'

Ed gave a tiny smile.

'Good job too,' he murmured, and Mark laughed. It was a good sound. 'Later!' he added, swinging the van door shut.

'Yeah, man, see you in the morning.'

The van pulled away and Ed didn't watch it leave. Instead, he walked up to the door and let himself into his apartment.

Once inside, he dropped his keys into the dish on the bookcase and loosened his tie. Slowly he glanced around, seeing everything exactly how he had left it; the chair squint beside the table, the empty coffee cup on the window sill and a barely-glanced-at newspaper from a few days ago. It was both mundane and surprising, and Ed frowned.

It felt very still and quiet. He was alone again. No one was here to greet him with warm hug and a friendly kiss, no one to hear him say "honey, I'm home". He didn't often miss the companionship of a woman, he had grown used to the emptiness of his apartment over the years since Anne had died.

Anne. Today, he missed Anne and what should have been. If he hadn't been working that night, or if she had taken the other shift instead, then this would have all been different. It could have all been so different, if he had only been more careful, if he had only been faster, if he had only done something more.

Didn't this keep happening to him? Letting women down, wasn't that what he did best? Anne. Elaine. Vivian. Even Eve.

His thoughts lingered on the final name: Eve. He glanced at the phone, feeling that maybe calling her would help, missing the sound of her voice. She was safe, that was one thing, but her career was gone, her life on Ironside's staff gone, their friendship strained by the words they could never say to each other. She wasn't dead, but an important part of her life had been destroyed by his negligence. He should have been more careful that day by the Bayside Motel. He shouldn't have let his guard down.

Even though he had done everything he could to keep her safe, somehow it had still hadn't been good enough. Ed could see it all with the same clarity as the day it had happened. There had been days in the hospital when he thought he'd never be free of the memories, or from waking in the night from dreams of blood and cold, sharp steel. It had gotten a little better over the months, the late nights and the heavy workload had helped.

But not today, everywhere he turned he was reminded of it. Was it because he had just narrowly avoided death for the second time in six months? In the silence of his apartment, there was nothing to distract from the whispers that had followed him all day, and the softly spoken admonishments that had followed him everywhere since that morning at the Bayside Motel, when he'd first met Anthony Richards. He should have done something more, he should have sensed something was wrong, he should have been better at his job. If he had been a better policeman, none of it would have happened.

With a start, Ed realised he had been standing, staring blindly at the table for who knows how long. He was too tired to do this anymore today.

What was left to do? Slowly he pulled out the bottle of painkillers from his pocket, the ones he'd been given this morning at the hospital. He hadn't taken any yet, not because he wasn't in pain, but because he feared they would make him sleepy. Any sign that he was at less than his best and the Chief would have him locked up here for weeks.

He needed to be sharp, he needed to be working, and he didn't want to sleep while other people were doing his job, acting like he wasn't there. The thought grew large in his mind, his breath suddenly catching in the back of his throat. They had been saying it to him all day: He should have died this morning.

Ed had faced death before, in his job as well as his personal life. He'd been a marine and seen action in the army, seeing his comrades fall, seeing people dead on the streets of villages and towns. He saw death every day at work, there was death around every corner or maybe just a phone call away. He knew it. He accepted it as the price he paid to do his job. It was a price he had been willing to pay, even though the price was much, much more than he'd thought it would be. Somehow, he could never get it right, there were always different ways he paid for his badge. New, more dangerous, more painful. And other people kept on paying.

Letting women down, wasn't that what he did best?

He didn't want to think about that. Ignoring the option of food, he went to the bureau by the window, got a bottle of scotch from the top left-hand corner, and a highball glass. Hand shaking slightly, he poured himself a generous double then took it through to his bedroom. He sat down heavily on the side of the bed. Deliberately not thinking about it too much, he took two little blue pills out and washed them down with most of the scotch. Then he took a couple more and finished the drink in one gulp.

Without bothering to change out of his dusty clothes, Ed lay back on the bed and closed his eyes, praying he'd be asleep quickly.