Chapter 12

Catalyst

'So what can I do for you Frank?' the Chief asked, settling in his chair. The other man looked tired and unhappy, maybe even cranky. When the department's top lab technician looked cranky, then everyone usually took cover.

'We need to have a talk,' Frank replied, 'Off the record. Before the Commissioner gets here.'

Ironside blinked in surprise.

'Dennis?'

'And where's your Sergeant Brown?' asked Frank, ignoring the question.

'He's gone home for a few hours rest,' said Ironside, not sure of what else to say. 'The Commissioner, Frank?'

'I'm sure he's on his way up.'

'Why?'

'That's trickier to answer,' Frank said.

'So what's the story?'

'You're not going to like it.'

For a man who wanted to speak to him urgently, Frank was being annoying obtuse and the Chief felt his temper starting to fray. He had more important things to do rather than play these games with Frank.

'Tell me and let me be the judge of that,' he said, with a snap in his tone.

'This is a real puzzler, Chief,' said Frank, sighing and sitting back. He shook his head. 'That damn explosion. In all my years, I've never seen the like. It's going to give me an ulcer.'

Ironside saw the look of worry on the other man's face and that went some small way to lessening his annoyance.

'Have you a preliminary?'

Frank nodded, but Ironside noticed he hadn't brought a report. No files or papers at all.

'Don't keep me in suspense,' he said.

'The explosion was deliberate,' Frank said firmly. 'Someone had rigged the building to go, I'll stake my pension on it, and my reputation.' Ironside opened his mouth to speak, but Frank held up his hand. 'It's still at the early stage, but I know a rigged job when I see one. But I've never seen something rigged like this before. It makes no sense.'

'What's the problem?' Ironside asked, confused.

'Your sergeant still breathing. That's my problem.'

Ironside shook his head. Your sergeant still breathing. He knew Frank could be blunt, but the way he said that in such a matter-of-fact way felt like a punch.

'What do you mean?' The question came out sharper than he'd meant. Frank frowned.

'I'm not making this up, Chief. I wish I was.'

'So tell me.'

Frank drew a deep breath before he started to speak.

'Okay, so imagine that your sergeant hadn't been there. No one's there when the building goes, okay? So, boom! the new front has gone. And afterwards, we come to take a look around. Now, I wouldn't be here to talk to you about it, because it would be pretty straightforward. There might be a couple of unusual effects, no two explosions are the same and there's always room for a little interpretation. But in the end we come in and sign it off. There's an investigation. Insurance pays out. Building gets rebuilt. You catch the guilty party. And that's the end. Case is closed.'

'Why does Sergeant Brown being there make such a difference?' Ironside asked.

Frank looked at him for a moment, perhaps debating how to say what he was going to say more politely. In the end, he just shrugged.

'With Brown there, in that specific place by the wall, the place he said he was, the concussive force of the explosion must have been less, or he'd be dead. No ifs or buts, Chief. They'd be brushing bits of him out of the carpet.'

The Chief didn't like where this was going, but he continued anyway.

'And?'

'And if the explosion was less forceful, it couldn't have destroyed the front.'

Ironside frowned.

'You're saying that we can have one or the other, but not both?'

Frank screwed up his face.

'Not exactly.'

'Well, what exactly?' he growled.

Frank held up his hands, trying to calm the Chief down. It didn't work.

'What I'm saying is that it should be a simple case of sabotage, but with Brown there, in the spot that I showed you, it can't be simple. You can get the two things to happen at the same time, the front to come off, and Brown to be there and survive. But it's messy. Either very carefully planned or lots of coincidences. And I don't like coincidences. Not with explosions.'

'A coincidence? Or a plan? Such as…?'

'I don't know.'

'Take a guess, Frank!'

He held up his hand again.

'There are a few options, I said it was messy. The most likely is some sort of rig up the whole of the front of the building. Less explosive power was needed, my bet would be a number of smaller charges, hooked up to go at once, one on each floor, placed at very specific positions. It's not perfect, but it's a start. That is the most straightforward way. That's how I would do it. I need more details on the building to be sure.'

'Other options?'

Frank gave a shrug.

'It starts to get much more complicated. You could have something structural. Or something in the pipes. Or something exotic, like a new explosive. You can really go to town on the conspiracy theories. Something with a much higher power that was spread more thinly, like a liquid painted on the walls. Easy to control but that has other problems. Or you could go the other way, with something much lower power. A gas would have gotten into the cracks in the walls and when it went up, it fragmented everything, much more mess for much less power. But they are a devil to handle, tricky to ignite, and awkward to use. How do you control it? Shall I go on?'

'How about proof?'

Frank shook his head, pulling a long face.

'Nothing yet, and I've had my boys up and down the street and all over the building for the past day and a half.' He shook his head again. 'But Chief, why?'

'Why?'

'Why go to all the trouble? Why a more complex job in the first place? More difficult it gets to set up and make it look right. And it would need someone with a lot of expertise, and take a lot of planning. But why? Why would you do that, on the off-chance a police officer is going to show up? Why make it more complicated than it needs to be?'

Ironside liked this conversation even less now.

'You know that no one's going to buy that,' Frank added. 'Definitely not Curtis Kingston. Or his insurers. They'll go with a straightforward explanation and just ignore the fact that Brown was there.'

Ironside shifted forward in his seat.

'Do you have proof, other than Ed?'

Frank shrugged.

'Not really, as I said no two explosions are alike. There are a few other odd things. The position of some of the stone debris. Like that new stone hood ornament on Brown's car. There are a few others like it scattered around. But they shouldn't be scattered around. There shouldn't be big lumps of stone. There should be smaller bits, scattered over a wider area. And the glass shouldn't be so fragmented, like sand. It should be like pebbles. And let's not even start on the nearby windows!'

'That's not very much,' Ironside said.

Frank shook his head.

'And those are pretty easy to explain away. No-'

'No two explosions are alike,' Ironside repeated angrily. 'You said.'

'I'm sorry, Chief. I know this isn't what you want to hear.'

It wasn't fair to be angry at Frank, but there was no one else here to be angry at. No Ed, no Mark, no Fran. No Eve. Mark and Fran would be back here any moment. And who knew where Ed was, if he was at home already or still on his way. And Eve was never coming back. The Chief sighed.

'What do you think?' Ironside asked. 'How would you explain it?'

He already knew, or Frank wouldn't have been here.

'I don't think this was just a simple bomb. And you don't even need to tell me it's crazy. I know it's crazy. But that's what I think. I doubt anyone else will agree. But I think someone has been very, very careful in the set up, and your sergeant was in the wrong place at the wrong time.'

Wasn't that the story of Ed's life? Why couldn't he catch a break for once?

Frank was shaking his head. 'They'll say Brown was either lucky or lying.' He gave the Chief a rueful look. 'Most people will go for lying.'

Ironside shook his head angrily.

'The mark on the floor? You showed it to me yourself,' he said.

'It could have been caused by anything. It's a clear patch on the floor, it's unlikely but it's not proof. That's where Brown said he was, that's the only reason anyone even noticed it.'

Damn!

'Ed wouldn't lie,' the Chief insisted. 'Not about something like that.'

'You sure?'

'One hundred percent,' hissed Ironside. 'If Ed Brown said he was in that building, in that place, then he was.'

'A patch of dust-free floor is not going to stand up against insurance companies who want to close off a case.'

'Ed would not lie.'

To his credit, Frank nodded.

'I thought you'd say that, Chief. I've known Brown a long time too, I've seen him work his way up the ranks from green rookie to your right-hand man. If there was a cop whose word I could trust, it would be yours and Sergeant Brown's.' He leaned his elbows on the table. 'The Commissioner might not see it like that.'

Ironside gave a thunderous scowl.

'Dennis will see it exactly the same as me,' he said.

'The Commissioner will have other people, like the insurance brokers for Curtis Kingston, all over this, all looking for a quick, cheap solution. They won't be interested in one slight anomaly, they'll want it closed up and signed off as soon as they can, so they don't have to pay out so much. You know what these brokers are like.'

The Chief nodded. Sadly he did know. Everything was about money to some people.

'And Kingston himself can bring a fair bit of pressure to bear if he wants to. He's got friends everywhere. I believe he knows the Congressman, as well as the Mayor.'

Ironside gave a huff. Flamin' politicians, that was just what he needed. They sat in silence for a moment. In the distance, the Chief heard the sound of the elevator. Mark and Fran would be on their way up.

'I don't know what you want to say to your people,' Frank said. 'But that's my story. You can take the heat and keep on pushing. All I can do is tell you what I think, and I have. If there's anything else I'll let you know.'

Ironside frowned, then gave a sharp nod.

'Thank you for your honesty, Frank,' he said. 'Thank you for coming to speak to me.'

'Sure thing, Chief.'

'And keep pushing?'

Frank nodded again.

'You don't need to tell me twice,' he said. 'I've called in all the favours I have on this one. Got someone coming over to give me an idea of the layout. If it was a complex rig, I'll need to figure out how it was set. We'll be up all night, so call me if you need me.'

They shook hands, and Frank headed for the main door, passing Mark and Fran in the hallway, acknowledging them with a nod.

'No Ed?' Fran asked, looking around the moment she came in to the office.

Mark noticed the look on Ironside's face.

'What did Frank have to say?'

With an increasingly heavy heart, the Chief gave them a summary of what he'd heard as they put the sandwiches on the table and Mark got a drink for each of them. They both settled into seats around the table.

'So it's Ed's word or what the insurance brokers want?' Mark asked. 'Tough choice!'

'And what did Ed say to this?' Fran asked when he'd finished. She looked around again. 'Where is he?'

'He's not here.'

Ironside held out the note.

'"Gone home"? Very helpful,' she said. 'He might at least have told us before we bought him dinner.'

Ironside looked at the sandwiches, adequate but not exciting. And not chili.

'I'm sure we'll have plenty more chances to buy dinner for Sergeant Brown.'

Mark gestured to the kitchen area and smiled.

'He might not have wanted any. I think he'd been living on coffee today.' Ironside looked surprised as Mark's smile widened. 'He's finished the tin.'

'Finished it?' said Ironside angrily. 'He's not paid to sit around drinking my coffee!'

'No wonder he went home,' Fran said. 'He must have been exhausted, if he needed that much of a pick-me-up!'

'But he'll still be awake from now until the end of the week,' Mark added.

Ironside frowned, feeling both annoyed and confused. Maybe that was why he'd sounded so odd on the telephone.

'Look, Chief,' Mark said, changing the subject, maybe regretting mentioning the coffee at all. 'This thing from Frank? Does this help?'

'I'd like it to,' he replied.

'But?' prompted Fran.

Yes, there was a qualifier for that statement. Frank's opinion hadn't made things any clearer, if anything it had made Ed's initial statement even more suspect. His version of events was hazy to say the least, but he wouldn't have lied. But that was not the way the insurance company would see the situation. One look at the statement, and then another look at Ed's current work record, and that would be the end of the discussion.

How had it gotten to this point? Ed was one of the most reliable people on the force. His word should have been good enough, it would have been if he hadn't been working so much, if he hadn't… Ironside deliberately stopped himself from going further with that thought. If! Maybe! That was of no help.

Mark was looking anxious, but Fran was sitting back, waiting and listening attentively. For a fleeting moment he was reminded of Eve, and he almost smiled.

Once more, there were the sound of footsteps in the hallway. Mark grinned at the Chief. Ironside glared at his aide, daring him to make a smart comment. The smile stayed on Mark's face as he stared back, not saying a word.

'Who do you think-?' asked Fran

'Good evening, Commissioner Randall,' Ironside called loudly as the door started to open. As Dennis walked in Ironside rolled back slightly to glare at him. 'Don't you work during the day any more, Commissioner?'

'You are a hard man to find, Bob.'

That was exactly what Frank had said and Ironside hadn't liked it any more then. Randall greeted both Fran and Mark, and took a seat at the table, eyeing the sandwiches.

'I was working here all morning,' the Chief said sharply. 'Then I was at the hospital all afternoon. What's so difficult about that?'

'And now, here you are?'

'It's dinner time,' Ironside said, a little more amiably. 'You are welcome to join us, if you don't have other plans.'

For a moment, the Chief thought he might agree. Then he shook his head.

'I don't think so. I'm seeing the Mayor for dinner later.'

'And you wouldn't want to spoil that!' The Chief was thinking about Frank, and what he'd said about pressure being brought to bear about the investigation at the Kingston Building. He raised his eyebrows. 'And what can we do for you this evening, since you don't want to share our dinner?'

'I think you know what,' Randall said. 'I saw Frank in the hall downstairs. Looking furtive.'

'Was he?'

'And I think he's just come from this office. And speaking to you, Bob.'

'You do?'

'I know what he said to you,' Dennis continued as if he hadn't heard the Chief's questions. 'I know what he said about Sergeant Brown and that explosion.'

'Ed wouldn't have lied,' Ironside stated firmly. 'If he says that's what happened, then that is what happened.'

'And what about his statement? The questionable gaps in his memory? The obsessive overworking? What do you think the insurance company will say to those?'

Ironside noticed the way Fran looked towards him as the Commissioner said the words "obsessive overworking". He frowned, not liking being put in this position. But at least Dennis hadn't been too specific.

'Insurance companies are your problem, Commissioner, not mine.'

'Those same insurance companies are going to be your problem too if you try to push this. And Curtis Kingston is a man who has a lot of friends in high places. You can be sure he will use that influence. He has already started.'

'And you would trust them over the word of your own men? Over Frank?' Ironside gave a scowl. 'Over me?'

'I am merely saying to you what everyone will saying to me tomorrow morning.' They glared at each other. 'Bob, I'm just pointing out that we're going to have to be careful.'

Ironside started back. That was not what he expected.

'We're going to?'

'Mr Kingston isn't the only one with friends in high places,' Dennis said, his face poker straight. There was a hint of gentle reproach in his voice when he spoke. 'You didn't think I'd let you down on this one, do you Bob?'

'Dennis…'

'Sergeant Brown's actions this afternoon not only avoided a full scale bomb alert and a huge media circus, but got that student girl out with the minimum of fuss. Do you think I'd forget that?'

Ironside rankled, still wanting to be annoyed, now at Dennis for not being straight up.

'So now you're now on our side?'

'I'm always on your side, Robert,' the Commissioner said shortly. 'And I'm on the side of this department and its officers. And I'm on the side of the truth. I don't enjoy veiled threats from rich industrialists who think that just because they know the Mayor they have the right to interfere in a high profile investigation!'

Ironside stayed quiet as he'd spoken, stunned by the passion in Dennis' tone. He had known the man for years, longer than he cared to remember, and their familiar ribbing always focused on the conflict between the Chief's thrust for the truth and the Commissioners job of keeping everyone happy and balancing the books. Sometimes it was easy to forget that the man loved this department almost as much as the Chief did.

With a contrite nod, Ironside smiled.

'Thank you, Dennis,' he said. The Commissioner looked embarrassed at his little outburst.

'Frank isn't happy,' Dennis said. 'I can't say I blame him, he's in an impossible position. But I trust your judgement, Bob. And I trust your staff. This is big, and something is fishy about the whole business. There's no one else who can handle it.'

'So I am still handling it?'

'For as long as I can keep it that way,' said Dennis with a nod. He crossed his arms, scowling at the hapless sandwiches which were in his line of sight. 'I know how to handle the Mayor.'

'What are you going to say?'

For the first time in a long time, the Commissioner gave them a devious smile.

'Brown is to be commended for his actions today. How can you turn around and question his word from the day before? I'm sure I can get some leeway out of that before they come up with something else.'

'How long?'

'Maybe a couple of days.'

'A couple of days? Not much breathing room.'

'I'm sure you can make the best of it.'

He stood, smiling at the three of them.

'I hope you enjoy your dinner,' he said.

Ironside smiled in turn.

'And I hope you enjoy yours.'

With a nod, the Commissioner walked up the ramp, and out of the door. Fran and Mark were looking after him in stunned surprise.

'Now that's something you don't see every day,' Ironside said at last.

'I don't think I've seen it before,' Mark said. 'Curtis Kingston really knows how to annoy people.'

'But two days. That isn't much time,' Fran added.

'That's all we have,' Ironside said. 'So let's get on with it.'

'Right now?' asked Mark.

'Yes, now, Mr Sanger. You can eat and read at the same time, can't you?'

That made Mark grin.

'Good,' Ironside said. 'Mark, get the statements from the first responders. I think they're over there.' He pointed to the far table. 'And we'll need Ed's statement, Fran. Let's see if he's remembered anything.'

She crossed over to the other table and picked it up, reading it as she walked back. As she handed it to the Chief, there was a look of confusion on her face. Ironside looked down at what Ed had written. It wasn't as firm a script as usual, and the statement was short, shorter than the notes Fran had made in the hospital. And it was much less clear. It might have just been exhaustion, and the stress catching up with him. Or the coffee. But that explanation didn't satisfy.

'What does this mean?' she asked.

"Gone home". A twist of anger and worry grabbed at Ironside's chest. Ed had better have gone home. He'd better not have done anything foolish.

'Get a car over to Ed's house,' he told Fran suddenly.

'B-'

'Now, Officer Belding,' he snapped. But she didn't move. She was staring at Mark, her eyes wide and her mouth open.

'Chief,' Mark said, his voice laced with fear. 'I think you might want to see this.'

Mark was holding the garbage can from next to the table. He tipped it forward so the Chief could look inside. Ironside stared. Inside were most of a pad of paper, all scrunched up, and a lot of tissues, all covered in blood.

Mark and Fran were staring at him, horrified, but the Chief's gaze dropped to the rambling, almost incoherent statement Ed had written. He immediately though of Katie Marshall, drifting over the edge of sanity at the hospital, acutely aware of the similarities between her and Ed; the confusion, the memory problems, the bloodshot eyes. He looked back at the tissues in the garbage, wondering if his nose had been bleeding too. Surely Ed would have said something?

He shook his head. That couldn't be right? It couldn't be the same thing. Ed wouldn't have been so reckless. He wouldn't have done anything actively dangerous, not even if he was exhausted and overworked. It couldn't be the same. It had to be something else. The similarities were just a coincidence.

Unexpectedly, Fran gave a sharp gulp of breath.

'Oh my God!' she whispered. 'I thought I saw…' She stopped, her hand half-over her mouth, dismayed.

'What?' the Chief asked, sounding much more angrily than he intended to be. 'What!'

'This afternoon,' Fran said. 'Before we left for the hospital, by the van. I thought…'

Again, she petered out, her hand still over her mouth, her eyes wide with the dawning realisation of what she'd seen.

'Fran!'

'It looked like his nose was bleeding.' She looked down at the garbage can and shuddered. 'We were getting ready to go, he turned away, and lifted his handkerchief. I almost asked, but we were leaving, and he walked off. I thought at the time…'

She brought her other hand up to her face.

'I should have said something. I should have stopped him. This wouldn't have happened if…'

'Fran!' This time when Ironside spoke, his tone was more calm than angry, but he felt anything but reassured.

'Red eyes, nose bleeds, no memory?' Mark said. 'Remind you of anyone?'

If the Chief had been a man given to swearing, he would have cursed the air black. A confused, terrified young woman in the hospital, her memory a mess, covered in blood; a confused and distressed officer, struggling to keep his composure on duty. The connection was obvious.

This couldn't be right. Ironside still didn't want to believe where logic was leading them.

He didn't understand how this could have happened or what had caused it.

But those thoughts were pushed aside by fear. Why hadn't Ed told him about the nose bleeds? Ed wouldn't have hidden something like this, he knew better than to take such a risk with his health. Ed had a dislike of hospitals, true, but if he knew he wasn't fit for duty then he wouldn't have struggled on.

Ironside shook his head once more. "Struggling on" was exactly what Ed had been doing for months. To everyone on the rest of the force, Ed Brown was the same man as he had been before Eve left. But the Chief and Mark both saw that he'd changed, even if they'd missed how much. Murray's report showed them exactly how far this had gone.

The Chief knew how much Ed blamed himself for what had happened with Richards, and how difficult he found it once he was out of the hospital. The Chief had hoped that, over time, the guilt would grow less as Ed rebuilt his confidence. He'd thought it had been working. It looked like it had been working.

But it was a smokescreen and Ed had deliberately hidden what was going wrong. He could see now that Ed was terrified of failing him again. Always an exemplary officer, Ed had drowned himself in work, continually striving for perfection, continually checking and double checking, and then checking once again. His trust in himself was in pieces. Ed could never have admitted any weakness, not even to his closest friends.

And especially not when one of those friends was his boss, the man Ed felt he'd already failed, and failed so very badly.

No-one's infallible, that's what Murray had that was exactly what Ed had tried to be since the warehouse. He pushed himself to live up to impossible standards, not wanting to fail anyone else.

And then, two mornings ago, Ed had walked into the Kingston Building and into whatever situation was there. Afterwards, he'd hidden how much that had affected him, maybe not even recognising the similarities between himself and Katie. He'd forced himself to keep going and do his job, no matter what the personal cost. It was just like before.

The complex web of emotion that filled Ironside threatened to overwhelm his good sense, and he could hardly keep focus. But he knew wallowing in regret wasn't going to help his friend. So he made himself face the only conclusion from the facts: that both Ed Brown and Katie Marshall were affected by the same thing. Katie was a mess, and what condition Ed was in right now, he couldn't guess. But at least Katie was safe in a hospital.

More questions flooded through him: How could this have happened? What could affect them both at the same time? What could have caused so much damage? What the flamin' hell had happened to them in the Kingston Building?

The Chief mentally shook himself. They had to find Ed and get him to the hospital. They could figure out exactly how it had happened later. Finding Ed was their priority. Before anything else went wrong.

'Mark, find out when Ed left. Call downstairs. Now!'

'S-Sure Chief.'

The Chief looked at the statement, then back to the scrawled note. Gone home. A cold certainty gripped him. Ed hadn't gone home. He'd gone somewhere else.

'He's not gone home, has he?' Fran asked. 'And you think the same thing that happened to Katie is happening to him too?'

Ironside nodded.

'How, Chief?' she asked. 'What could have affected them both like that?'

They had both been in the same place: The flamin' Kingston Building. Something had happened yesterday morning, and that was the root cause of the memory loss, the bloodshot eyes, the nosebleeds and the confusion. He didn't know how it could have happened, but he was convinced it had happened.

'I don't know,' he said. 'They were both in the Kingston Building before it was destroyed. That has to be the connection.'

Once again, Ironside cursed his decision over the past few days. He had assumed getting Ed back here, away from the case to get some peace had been the best thing to do. But with hindsight he'd been wrong to leave Ed here alone. If they were right, and Ironside was certain they were, then through the afternoon Ed's mental state had deteriorated. He might even be lost in a different world, where memory was stronger than reality. The thought made Ironside's blood turn cold. Ed hadn't made many good memories recently.

'Mark?' Ironside demanded as the other man put the phone down.

'He's been gone an hour, maybe more. He walked out the front door.'

'What was he like? Who saw him?'

The Chief was confident Mark would have asked for details. He was right.

'Bill said he looked preoccupied. He didn't speak to anyone, just got out of there as quick as he could.'

So Ed had left the Department and vanished. They had to find him, as quickly as possible. He wasn't going to be at home, there was no need for a car to confirm it. Where else would Ed go?

Ironside looked back at the statement Ed had made, and he suddenly knew that's where he'd gone. Ed had gone to try and jog his memory. He was back at the flamin' Kingston Building.

They had to put out an APB.

The thought sent another chill through Ironside.

If they didn't find Ed quickly he'd likely end up dead. Literally, not just how he'd been in the weeks since the encounter with Richards and McArthur. Wasn't that how Ed had been since the warehouse? A dying man still moving around, broken with grief, guilt and regret. And now he was affected by the same thing that had caused Katie Marshall to trip out, and he was lost in a fear-filled world of confusion and paranoia. Someone had to get to him quickly. What if they didn't find him in time?

Ironside clenched his fist. What if they did find him? What shape was he in? Would the doctors be able to help? Doctor Moran had explained about Katie, and he'd seen for himself the madness and terror in her eyes. Ed was heading for the same fate. Or worse.

They had to put out an APB. They had to bring him in one way or another even if, like Katie Marshall, all he wanted to do was run and hide. What choice did he have?

An APB was the fastest way. It was the only way. But that would bring a different problem.

Because everyone in the department would know. And there would be questions. And then all the rest of it would come out too. Everyone would know how Ed had been tortured by Richards and McArthur. What would happen then?

The Chief shuddered, remembering how people had reacted after the sniper had disabled him. It would be no different for Ed, once it became common knowledge. On top of everything else, would Ed survive that sort of intrusive attention? He was a career policeman, and devoted to this department. What would it do to him to have his reputation shredded by the inevitable gossip and suspicious looks?

If Ironside put out the APB, wasn't he just signing a different sort of death warrant?

After everything they'd gone through, after everything that Ed had done for him, professionally and personally, was this the only outcome? How had he managed to back himself into the corner like this, with a choice between death or destruction?

For a few seconds Ironside couldn't speak, overcome with regret. He'd let Ed down again. Before, he'd left Ed alone and at McArthur's mercy, reacting too slowly to get to him in time, to stop Richards before Ed had been hurt. In the end, he'd had one choice if he was going to save Ed's life. This was just the same.

Because there was only ever going to be one option. I'm sorry, Ed.

'Put out an APB on Sergeant Brown. Someone has to know where he is. We have got to find him.'

Fran and Mark exchanged a look, they both understood what happened to police officers who had APBs put out on them. I'm so sorry, Ed.

A moment later, before Fran's hand had even moved, the telephone rang.