My thanks to all of you from your messages and your kindness. I love this fandom dearly and you have all been lovely. -x-

Good news - the fic is pretty well finished, and I'm beginning to faff around with it and dither over commas, so it needs to be posted. If I post twice a week then we'll get to Chapter 10 just before the holidays, and that is a pretty good cliffhanger to leave you with for a few weeks. :)

Mounty - we'll come back to cars :D

Chapter 6

Cold Fission

'Mr Kingston is expecting you,' said the secretary in Curtis Kingston's office as the Chief and Fran entered. She picked up the phone on her desk. 'Mr Kingston, Mr Ironside is here for you.' There was the muffled sound of talking from the other end.

'He's just finishing up with his previous appointment,' she said with a professional smile, replacing the handset. 'It will only take a few minutes.'

The secretary returned to her work and Ironside looked around the room. There were modern, up-to-date pieces of furniture that had the look of luxury about them, a couple of oil paintings of places that Ironside didn't recognise, plain red carpet, plain red curtains and a view out of the campus, with the back of the Kingston Building off to the side. From this angle it didn't look damaged at all, the only hint was the bustle of emergency personnel beside it, and the ubiquitous sprinkling of glass and dust on the ground.

Ironside and Fran waited side by side without speaking. He looked at his companion, feeling at a loss as to what to say. This was her first day on his staff, he didn't think there could have been a worse possible start, and that was before the disagreement between her and Ed. She hadn't given any more details about what had gone wrong to make her so upset. Now was not the right time to discuss it, and she'd remained resolutely silent on their way over, trying to mask her anger.

At last, there was a buzz from the phone and the secretary nodded them through. With a little help from Fran, Ironside pushed himself forward into Curtis Kingston's office. Inside, Kingston was sitting behind an impressively long, oak desk, bare but for a phone, a fountain pen and a cup of coffee. He rose and shook hands with the Chief once again, as Ironside took a quick glance around. This was the same as the outer office; modern, orderly and red.

'Good to see you again, Chief Ironside,' said Kingston cheerfully, settling himself back into his comfy leather chair. Ironside hid his surprise. When they had parted company outside, Kingston hadn't been anywhere close to cheerful and the unexpected change made him wary.

'And who is this delightful young lady?' he asked.

'Officer Belding.' Ironside watched as Kingston shook her hand warmly, a perfect smile on his face.

'What charming company you keep, Chief Ironside,' he said. 'So I take it you're finished on site for the day?' He motioned Fran to take a seat beside the Chief and she did.

'We're not quite finished yet,' Ironside replied.

'I'm sure it's only a matter of loose ends,' Kingston said, appearing not to care about the answer to his question. 'I've been in contact with the insurance and I know the contractors. I can't afford to waste any time starting reconstruction. I need to make sure it's back working at full capacity as soon as I can.'

'There are some aspects we still need to check,' Ironside began.

'Yes, I'm sure that's all very well,' Kingston said. 'I'm sure your lab boys are leaving no stone unturned. But no one was hurt, it's just the front that's gone, thank goodness, and that won't take long to put back up and everything will be back to normal.'

'Good job it was so simple,' said Ironside, Kingston either not noticing or ignoring the intended irony of that statement.

'There is no need to delay.'

'I don't see it that way,' the Chief said. 'We have a few unanswered questions. Like what caused the front to come off to start with.'

The meaning of what the Chief was trying to say suddenly dawned on the other man.

'Oh, no, Chief Ironside,' Kingston said, holding up his hand. 'This is not going to be one of those! Have you any idea of the favours I had to call in just to get this built in the first place? It was supposed to be the start of an architectural revolution, a renaissance movement, even. And it will be.'

He leaned back in his chair, looking wistfully off past the Chief.

'My building is the future of construction,' he said with an air of pride. 'We will be able to rescue older buildings, make them stronger, and better. We will get the building to work for us, designed to be as efficient as possible. The water system, the heating systems, even the make of the glass and the strength of the steel frame have been reinvented and optimised. This is not the old way of making buildings. This is something completely new. This is using the latest cutting-edge technology to make life better.' He gave a happy sigh. 'We are making advances in materials science and thermal engineering that amaze even me. And I'm not easily amazed.'

'Advances often cost money,' Ironside observed.

The wistfulness vanished as Kingston looked back at the Chief.

'How right you are,' he said. 'The first of anything new always does cost a lot.' Ironside looked politely at Kingston, waiting for him to continue. 'And we have had a few small bumps on the way.'

'Bumps?'

'Oh, nothing like that,' he said. 'Technical issues. There's a lot of pipework, there's a lot of equipment that could go wrong. The control panels, the junctions, the wiring. And don't forget it's all new.'

'And you still say-'

'No!' Kingston said, interrupting the Chief. 'There is nothing explosive in my building design. There are complex structures. And they have never been tried before. And just because it's new, and it's complicated, and it's expensive doesn't mean that it shouldn't be tried. Of course we've had difficulties. But the idea is sound. I'm not going to let them win, those Philistines at the City Hall wouldn't know good design if it sat on them. I am not going to let them win.'

Ironside regarded the man with mild surprise, his passion for the project was clear in the way he spoke.

'Then how do you explain the mess your building made of the sidewalk and the parking lot?'

Kingston scowled.

'Gas main,' he declared. 'You show me a man who says different and I'll show you a liar. There is nothing else it could be.'

'That's a strong statement, Mr Kingston,' Ironside said seriously. The words of Frank came back to him. The police expert was extremely unhappy about the whole situation. What's more, Frank had been with the department right out of army ordnance, and Ironside had always considered him knowledgeable, careful and highly competent, not given to exaggerations or mistakes. But he wasn't about to play that card just yet. Kingston's insistence on a dead-end lead was curious, and out of character. Wasn't the man even slightly curious about what had happened to his building?

'We can't rule out criminal intent,' Ironside said, watching Kingston's reaction carefully. 'It's still a crime scene until I say otherwise.'

'Criminal!' Kingston flicked his head back and gave a derisive little snort. 'Don't be ridiculous, Chief Ironside! No one would want to destroy my new building.'

'That's not what you implied a moment ago,' said the Chief, reasonably.

'Yes, but,' Kingston paused, glancing to the ceiling as if for inspiration. 'Mr Ironside, critics of modern architecture do not go around blowing up buildings.'

'No?'

'No.'

'And there is no one else who would gain from something like this.'

'No,' insisted Kingston.

'Someone with a grudge maybe?'

'No…' came the reply. But it wasn't as quick as before, and for the first time Kingston looked unsettled.

'Are you sure?'

There was no response. After a few moments hesitation, Kingston opened a drawer under the table and pulled out a bundle of letters. The Chief took them with a heavy heart. Poison pen letters, using clippings of newspapers and cheap paper. They all said the same thing: You'll pay.

'These have been arriving since my new building opened,' Kingston said.

The Chief shook his head in disbelief.

'Why didn't you tell the police? Why?'

Kingston's face hardened, a hint of the ruthless businessman shining through.

'I get things like this all the time,' he said. 'I'm one of the richest men in the state, I own businesses and companies all over the world, and I make a lot of money. There are always people who hold a grudge against others who thrive thanks to their own tireless effort.'

'That's as maybe,' said the Chief, now feeling even more suspicious than before. 'But I still need an explanation.'

No one spoke, and Ironside waited, knowing that the uncomfortable silence would make Kingston talk.

'I thought it was just the kids,' Kingston said eventually. 'I thought they were just playing. I never thought in a million years they would try something like this. And I still don't.'

Ironside immediately thought of what Tim Montgomery had told them, that Katie Marshall had been part of a group hell bent on causing mischief in the Kingston Building. Would they have resorted to these childish threats? And would they have gone further too?

'The kids?' he asked. 'Who?'

'A group of students who use the lab got it into their heads that we were doing special work.'

'Special?'

'Governmental.'

'Ah!' Ironside hated that word, especially when it was used to keep information under wraps, but he gave no hint of his feelings to Kingston. 'What happened?'

'There were a few protests, nothing that the media got hold of, I made sure of that. And they broke in a few times, disrupted a few experiments, nothing even close to being serious.'

'And were they right?'

For the first time Kingston looked uneasy.

'There was nothing in any of my funded projects that was backed by the Government.'

Ironside settled himself into his wheelchair, leaning back, never taking his eyes off the other man. Though Kingston tried hard to disguise it, Ironside noted the narrowing of his eyes and the fleeting look of worry that crossed the man's face.

'What about the other projects?'

'I-I don't know. There shouldn't have been. I was always very clear.' It was a bitter admission for the man, that was obvious enough from his tone. 'No one declared anything, and I thought everyone was telling me the truth. If you can't trust a scientist, who can you trust? But now I wonder.'

'How would I find out?'

'If they didn't declare it to me, they are hardly likely to tell you.'

That was a true, if disagreeable, way of putting it.

'I'll need a list of your personnel,' Ironside said. 'Who is doing what in that building.'

'Alright, Chief Ironside,' he said with a sigh, his annoyance at the request making the Chief annoyed in turn.

'And I'll need to speak to them as well.'

Another sigh.

'Alright, Chief Ironside.'

'And I want the names of the students you suspected of breaking in.'

He sighed a third time.

'They'll be sent over to your office by this evening. Is there anything else?'

'I'll take the letters.'

Kingston didn't bother to give an answer, he just shrugged dismissively, making it clear that he thought the interview was over.

'Officer Belding?' Ironside nodded towards the door. Fran stood, and helped him turn the chair. Just before he left Ironside looked back, then said:

'We will get to the bottom of what happened, Mr Kingston, I assure you.'

Again, there was no reply, but from what Ironside gathered from his expression, Curtis Kingston did not look enthusiastic about their chances.

Fran helped guide the Chief out of the office, holding her annoyance in check for the whole time. She knew she should be concentrating on the case, but she was continually distracted by all the unanswered questions she had buzzing around in her mind. And she was angry, still fuming at Brown, and cross with the Chief for defending him. That wasn't helping her keep focused.

This was not how she'd imagined her first day going, not in the slightest. She had been so looking forward to starting. Working for the Chief was something she'd always aspired to, and when he asked her to stay on she'd had no hesitation. She wasn't going to let anything, or anyone, spoil it for her, no matter how hard they tried.

The van was waiting for them as they left the building, Mark standing, leaning on the side door, looking as calm as always. Fran smiled and waved. He waved back.

At least he made her feel part of the team. Unlike Edward Brown, the worlds most unhelpful police sergeant. Could Brown have been more disagreeable? It felt like he was doing it deliberately.

The Chief tried to speed up, but over the uneven flagstones on the path, it was next to impossible. Fran helpfully gave the chair a guiding push every so often, but the Chief still muttered angrily as he struggled to get where he was going.

'Well?' he demanded as soon as he was close enough to have a conversation. 'Tell me.'

'It's a mess,' Mark replied. 'He's a mess.'

'You mean Ed?' Fran asked, even though she knew the answer.

Mark nodded, and exchanged a look with the Chief. Inside, Fran gave an exasperated sigh, knowing there was something they weren't telling her. It was obviously important. And it was obviously about Brown.

And then there was the thought that had hounded her all day, and for most of the few weeks previously, that continually popped into the front of her mind at inopportune moments: they wouldn't have treated Eve Whitfield like this. It was petty, it was childish, she knew, but she couldn't get away from the other woman's shadow. It wasn't fair. How was she supposed to prove herself when she never got the chance to try?

The Chief looked up at her.

'So, Officer Belding,' he said, his smile small, but genuine. 'What do you think of the case so far?'

What she thought at that precise moment was that Brown was a dangerous loose cannon that should have been suspended. Ever since they had first met, his attitude had grated. Their "undercover" work was painful and embarrassing to look back on, and there had been times she could barely stand to be in the same room as him. Maybe in the past few weeks the rough edges were smoothing off and she was beginning to know him a little better, maybe even occasionally almost enjoying his company, when he wasn't being so aloof or engrossed in work. But after today's little outburst, she wasn't sure she wanted to. However, Fran knew that wasn't what the Chief meant.

'You mean, what do I think of Curtis Kingston?' she suggested.

Ironside nodded approvingly.

'I didn't like him,' she said. There was no need to think much about that. She had disliked him from the moment he had smiled that oily smile and shaken her hand. Some men thought they were being charming when they acted like that, but he couldn't have been more off-putting if he'd tried. She had sensed him checking her out as she'd sat down. She hated being ogled, more like a cheap set of curves than being admired as a woman. At least Brown had never treated her like that, that was something to be grateful for.

'I don't care for him either,' the Chief said.

'And I didn't trust him.'

'Again, I agree,' the Chief said. 'So why didn't you trust him?'

Fran pondered the question for a moment. Truthfully, she had spent a lot of the time during their interview trying not to let her discomfort show to her new boss. She had listened, but now she was worried she hadn't paid close enough attention.

'He talked a lot about getting the building back up and running,' she said at last. 'And he was adamant about the gas main, at least until you challenged him.'

'Yes?' Ironside said.

'He changed his mind pretty quickly when you asked about grudges.'

The Chief nodded thoughtfully, and Fran smiled.

'And he didn't need much persuading to show you those letters,' she added.

'I agree,' Ironside said firmly. 'And he was altogether too calm about the letters.'

'Do you think he wanted you to see them?' Fran asked.

He nodded.

'But the real question is why?' Ironside added.

'Why did he want you to see the letters, you mean?'

'And why did he have to be persuaded to let me see them. And why did he keep them in the first place. And why didn't he report them to the police.' Ironside gave an annoyed grunt. 'That man has just given us more flamin' questions instead of answering them.'

He looked up at Fran, and she waited, eager to help.

'We need answers,' Ironside said. 'We need more information on what's going on around here. And quickly, before Kingston decides that we are poking around too much.'

'That might not be too long,' observed Mark.

'You did a good job questioning the students,' the Chief said warmly to Fran. 'So go and see Tim again, and try to get some names of the members of that group. Maybe her roommate knows more as well. Talk to her too. Ask around and see what you can come up with.'

Fran gave him a wide smile. Finally, she could get on with some police work without Brown as the unfriendly and unhelpful chaperon that got in her way.

'Sure, Chief.'

'Find out all you can,' he paused, his face growing dark. 'And find out who Katie went to for a trip, if you can.'

Fran nodded again, her confidence growing. She was a member of the Chief's staff, one of his team and she could do the job as well as anyone else. Even Eve Whitfield, she thought, then stopped herself from thinking any further down that path. She didn't want to keep comparing herself to the woman who'd so recently left, but somehow she couldn't help it. Would she have even been given this chance if Eve hadn't left? She wasn't sure she wanted to know the answer.

'Where are you going?' she asked.

'We'll be back at the office,' the Chief said. 'We'll make a start on the statements from the witnesses, and I'll get some background checks on the staff.'

For a moment, the Chief looked like he was going to add something. Then he stopped, a frown on his face.

'Relax, Chief,' Mark said. 'I'll give you a hand chasing leads.'

Ironside nodded gratefully.

'Thanks, Mark. That will be a help. We've a lot to get through.'

And the team has a man missing, Fran thought. Her anger at Brown flared again, but this time she thought about the effect all this would be having on the Chief. He was a man who had always demanded excellence, and did whatever he could to get the job done. It must be hard at the moment. Eve had gone, and Brown appeared to be next to useless.

Everyone in the department knew Brown's reputation as one of the top men on the force, a high flier with a long and illustrious career ahead of him. But from what Fran had seen, that reputation was mostly undeserved. No one had mentioned the short temper and the disregard for the public, the stilted attempts at being friendly and the times he stared off, blanking everything else around him.

The Chief was right to be annoyed with him. But no, she thought. He isn't annoyed, is he? The Chief wasn't angry, just worried. That's what she'd thought earlier. The Chief was worried about Brown, deeply concerned in a way that Fran found baffling in the circumstances. And why had Brown even been here at three in the morning? What was going on? Why wouldn't they be straight with her?

Mark had moved to help push the Chief's wheelchair round to the back of the van. Fran watched in silence.

'Call if you get something,' the Chief said to her.

'Yes, Chief,' she said. 'I'll do whatever I can.'

The warmth of the Chief's smile made her smile back. He trusted her to get the job done, and was confident in her ability to find what they needed.

The van door closed, Mark jumped into the front and turned the engine over.

Fran waited until the van had turned the corner and vanished out of sight, then she gave a loud sigh.

So maybe this hadn't been the first day she had hoped for. But she had work to do and she was going to do it and not get sidetracked. She would show them just how good she was. She wasn't going to wait in Eve's shadow any longer, and she would crack this case wide open, even if it took her all day, and all tomorrow as well.

With that thought, Fran walked off towards the student halls.

There was a never-ending pile of papers to read, and the Chief didn't pause all afternoon, or evening, until it was time for chili.

Most of the papers were statements taken from people who lived or worked near the Kingston Building, and the officers from police and fire that had been in first attendance. Details of times and who was where had given the Chief a good idea of the chain of events after Ed had called it in. Of course, what had happened before that was still as much of a mystery as it had been this morning.

He'd not heard much from Fran. She'd called them just before dinner to say she was making good progress, and she would go back at the campus first thing tomorrow, without stopping by the office first. He had almost argued with her, he could only cope with one work-obsessed staff member at a time, but she had been so enthusiastic about how it was going that, in the end, he gave in, trusting her judgement.

Mark was sitting next to him, reading reports and making notes in a companionable silence, when there was a noise from the elevator. Ironside glance up at the clock on the wall. It was almost ten.

'Another late night visitor,' Mark said with a smile. 'It's your lucky week.'

Ironside ignored the comment, but looked to the door. There was only a limited number of people it could be. If he was lucky, like Mark suggested, it wouldn't be the Commissioner.

The door opened, and Commissioner Randall walked in. Ironside cursed his ill-fortune. This couldn't be good.

'Evening, Bob, Mark,' Dennis said, not waiting to be asked in. Ironside glared at him, why couldn't he catch a break and get some peace in the evenings these days?

'San Francisco International would be a quieter place to get some work done,' he muttered.

Dennis ignored the comment, settling himself onto one of the seats at the table. Mark offered him a drink and he accepted with a nod. All the time, Ironside watched with a vague sense of unease. After taking a mouthful of his bourbon, Randall came straight to the point.

'I've been getting calls about you, Bob,' he said.

'Good calls, I hope,' the Chief said.

Dennis raised his eyebrows incredulously.

'Well,' said Ironside with a shrug, 'they could have been.'

'I don't like getting angry calls from rich members of the public complaining about my officers,' the Commissioner said.

Ironside saw Mark give a tiny smirk, but he didn't react. Instead, he glowered at the Commissioner.

'I also heard you let Sergeant Brown accompany you to the scene,' Randall continued, ignoring Ironside's expression. 'Rather than making sure he went home. I hope you have a good explanation.'

'Ed is a police officer,' Ironside replied. 'And I thought he might have useful information.'

'That is not the way Curtis Kingston saw it,' Dennis said pointedly. 'He thinks the investigation is in jeopardy thanks to your recklessness.'

'Recklessness?' Ironside shook his head in surprise.

'And there were complaints about your attitude, Bob.'

'Curtis Kingston again, I take it?' the Chief asked.

Randall nodded.

'He did not like the way you were pushing the investigation towards criminal intent.'

'Did he not?' Ironside didn't bother to disguise the fact that he was angry. 'Then maybe Mr Kingston shouldn't have withheld the threatening letters.'

'Letters?'

Mark helpfully stood up and picked up the letters from the other table. He handed them to the Commissioner. Dennis flicked through them, his forehead furrowed with confusion.

'And what did forensics have to say about these?'

'Nothing but smudged prints,' Ironside said. 'And they're still analysing the samples. Kingston said he'd been receiving them since his new building opened.'

'I see.'

'Now an unexplained explosion. Probably deliberate. Do you think I was wrong to push for answers?' Dennis didn't reply, just kept looking at the letters. 'Kingston said some of the lab's students were causing a little trouble,' Ironside told the Commissioner.

'An explosion is more than a little trouble,' Dennis pointed out.

'Exactly,' Ironside said. 'And Fran has been checking it out.'

'Fran?'

'Yes.'

Dennis paused.

'And where is Sergeant Brown?' he asked.

'Sergeant Brown is at home,' Ironside said firmly.

'And you're sure he is?'

'Yes.'

Dennis gave him a look.

'He had better be, Bob, for his own sake. You shouldn't be encouraging him to work. What were you thinking, taking him along?'

'I do have my reasons,' said the Chief, leaning forward. 'Ed saw someone else in the building before it blew.' The Commissioner looked surprised. 'We think it was one of the students Kingston mentioned. Only Ed could identify her, that's why he was there.'

'I see.' The Commissioner looked thoughtfully at Ironside. 'Keeping this quiet, then?'

'Exactly,' Ironside said with a nod. 'If it did involve these students, I don't want Kingston, or anyone, overreacting before we have all the facts.'

'I see,' repeated the Commissioner.

Ironside waited while his friend sipped his drink.

'I think you'll need to tell me everything,' said the Commissioner.

Ironside explained about Ed's unexpected recollection of someone else in the Kingston Building, how they had identified Katie Marshall as his missing girl, and what Tim Montgomery had said about her actions the evening before.

'Do you think she was involved in the explosion?' Dennis asked at last.

With a shake of his head, Ironside sat back in his chair.

'From Ed's description of what happened, I think she might have been just in the wrong place at the wrong time. We need to speak to her. But first, we need to find her. And I want Curtis Kingston to be the last person to know.'

'Because of the letters?'

'Because I don't like people interfering with police work,' Ironside replied coldly. 'And because of the letters.'

'I see,' said Dennis once more. There was a long pause as the Commissioner slowly finished his drink. 'But you need to be careful with Mr Kingston.'

'Do I?'

'You know very well that what Curtis Kingston wants, Curtis Kingston usually gets. He can make life very difficult.'

'That's why you are the Commissioner, and I am just a consultant.'

Dennis frowned, taking another, larger mouthful of his drink.

'Very well, Bob,' he said. 'I'll back you up on this one. But you'd better be sure.'

It felt like years since Ironside had been sure of anything. And tonight, after a day filled with difficult choices and awkward conversations, he felt less sure than usual.

The Commissioner rose slowly, and after wishing the two men good night, he left. Mark watched him leave, then turned to look questioningly at his boss.

'Tomorrow is another day,' the Chief observed.

'A lot can happen in a day,' Mark said.

'So true!' Less than twenty four hours ago, Murray had been in this very office with complaints against Ed Brown. That had been the most important thing on his mind, but now, there was so much more.

'Today hasn't been so great,' Mark said. 'Tomorrow can't get much worse.'

Ironside gave a humph of mild annoyance.

'You'd better hope it doesn't, Mark, or I'll blame you for saying it, Mister Sanger.'

There was a moment of silence.

'I know you're worried about Ed,' Mark said suddenly. 'So am I.'

It was hard to admit how worried he actually was, but Mark didn't need to be told. He felt just the same, Ironside could see it written all over his face. And they still didn't know what had gone on in the Kingston Building. He felt as far away from an answer as ever.

'Do you think he's stay put?' Mark asked.

Ironside had been tempted to assign a beat cop to make sure Ed hadn't gone out and kept on working, but in the end he had decided that his sergeant was so close to dropping from exhaustion that there was no need. Besides, Ed would not appreciate being checked up on.

'I think so,' he replied. I hope so, he added to himself.

Mark made no comment.

'Let's call it a night,' Ironside said. 'We have plenty to do tomorrow.'

Yes, tomorrow was another day. All Ironside could do was hope that it was better than today had been.