Chapter Seven

Chrissy glared with ill-disguised annoyance at Charlie. He raised his hands in a defensive gesture, "Don't shoot the messenger, okay! It's not my fault he's gone to ground."

"Ice?" She turned her attention to her anchor man, the smooth professional agent back in control. Ice sighed, as much as he hated to admit it, it was better when she was vulnerable.

"Nothing. Nothing in Alphonse's pockets, in his room, Briter knows nothing about the poor, dear boy's work," Ice managed a reasonable approximation of Briter's put on accent. "I've been every place he's been. Zero."

"Well we're just going to have to try.." The phone rang and Chrissy grabbed at it, irritated by the interruption.

"Christine Kowalski." As the colour drained from her face, the boys sat up, one thought, Alphonse!!

"I……er…..I understand." Blindly she fumbled to put the receiver down.

"Chrissy, what.." Charlie jerked her out of her reverie.

"Alphonse had a relapse, he's haemorrhaging badly. If…" she fought for control. "If we want….a….chance to say…………goodbye….." She broke down. They stared at her, transfixed with horror and disbelief.

They sat and waited. By the time everyone had arrived, Alphonse had already been taken into surgery. So a tense group waited for the outcome that everyone was hoping and praying would not be.

Chrissy sat and tried to think of all the things that annoyed her about the charming, illusive and wily criminal, all the times he'd flouted her orders, all the times he'd made unwanted passes at her, all the legions of women, his illegitimate children, everything and anything that would keep her from focussing on the pain of losing him. All she could think of was the way his eyes lit up when he was teasing her, the cute sexy smile he used to such devastating effect, his fiery temper which carried him through where others wouldn't even have tried, the gentler, softer side to his nature especially where women and children were concerned. He was light fingered and more dishonest than the other two, but he was also gentle and kind, so much about what she knew about him from the files and what she knew about him as a person didn't quite add up. He was an accomplished car thief, a dodgy card player, any role they came up with he would slip into as though born to it, he could charm anyone out of anything, but he never set out to deliberately hurt people. Now Chrissy wondered which one of the roles was really him.

She looked up at the surgeon standing in the doorway, even as he was shaking his head, she knew. Knew it was all over and that Alphonse had lost the fight.

Ice couldn't feel or think. The case was finished, he couldn't go on. Charlie turned to him, their eyes met, their utter devastation hung in the air. Around them, people began to move away. There was an eerie silence, as though something had died with Alphonse. Ice and Charlie stood and stared at each other, neither had the slightest idea what they were going to do.

Corky moved forward, sliding her arms round Charlie, she leant into him. He pulled her closer and held on tight, burying his face in her neck. Chrissy wrapped her arms round herself as she started to shake, now she would never know the truth.

O'Connor had cornered a small part of the New York office for them when they'd started the case, now the entire team was gathered into one room. He faced them all, they'd lost people in the line of duty before, but somehow an irritating, charming and unreliable con artist had got under his skin, O'Connor suddenly realised how much effect Alphonse had on the team and how empty a room seemed without him.

He tried to rally the troops, but his words sounded hollow and the troops were defeated. They headed out, concentrating on the tasks he'd handed out. Malcolm O'Connor turned to face the window and wished from the bottom of his heart that he'd never become involved.

Half crazy with grief Ice wandered the streets. It was midnight, one or two street punks had considered challenging him, but something about the ice cold look he'd thrown them had convinced them to give him a wide berth. He passed the bar where Ali had found him, was it only two days ago?, but not even alcohol held any interest.

He circled back round again, heading by instinct to Laura's place perhaps the warmth of a new love could fix the pain of an old friend's death. Yeah, right, like I belie' that! He headed up the stairs, finger reached instinctively for the bell, she opened the door, in the half light from the hall he could see her clearly. Without a word, she reached out and pulled him in, and he went eagerly into her embrace.

Charlie and Corky were in Chrissy's room. The awkwardness had gone, blown away by their shared grief. The three of them carefully avoided his name, but he was in their minds.

"Are ye ready to do this?" Alistair McBride eyed his companion with misgiving. The big Scot doubted his partner's capabilities in this highly risky enterprise but they were the only two available. Malcolm O'Connor sighed and nodded.

"Let's do it."

They ducked against the pouring rain and ran swiftly to the opposite side of the street then up the alleyway next to the building. Some fifteen minutes later, two figures emerged from the back of the building and ran into the night.