Chapter 3

Fran's POV

"Stop! Police!"

Could the mob actually hear it?

Obviously the one shouting wasn't sure either. Therefore he pulled his gun and extinguished the next street lamp with one impeccable shot. The loud bang, combined with the area suddenly getting much darker, caused everybody to stare at the tall, lanky man who was standing on the garden wall of an estate nearby, gun at the ready in textbook manner. His little, if illicit demonstration ensured him the attention of his public.

"What's the matter, officer?"

His question was directed at me. The voice sounded cool and impersonal. I hardly recognized it as Ed Brown's normally warm baritone.

"Nothing needing your intervention, Sergeant Brown!" I said defiantly.

"Sergeant, you have to arrest this monster cop!" shouted my adversary, a Caucasian who was almost Ed's size and who outweighed me by a ton. His face was green and he was obviously in pain.

"She... she..."

"She kicked him where it hurts most!" explained one of his buddies, undecided if he should be amused or sympathetic with the big man.

"Would you like to press charges against the lady?" asked my superior, still very neutral, stepping down onto the road.

The bystanders seemed to take a step back. It was one thing to rant about police brutality, but another one to officially admit that a big man had been beaten by a small woman like me.

"N-no. But next time..." He didn't describe in detail what he would do next time, but the fury in his eyes spoke volumes.

"Ok, that's settled then. I suggest you all go home now."

"You heard the sergeant, folks. Show's over!" shouted the oldest of the men. Maybe he was a little more reasonable than the others; maybe he was just unsure of the outcome if they had insisted on that ridiculous accusation.

I wiped the blood from my nose which had been hit before I had kicked the man. After I had given him a clout round the ear. After he had called the cleaning woman a Mexican hooker.

Ed glanced at me, and I thought that some warmth and caring had returned into his eyes... but probably this was only wishful thinking.

"Are you all right?"

"Of course I am!" I retorted angrily. "I always use that much rouge around my nose!"

He gave me his handkerchief and pulled me to the right, where he had left his car.

"Thank you," I said nonchalantly, calming down finally, "but I could have handled this on my own!"

He shook his head, rather uncomprehendingly than in denial. "What in blue blazes were you thinking?!"

Sometimes he was so much like Ironside, and immediately I started to anticipate how the Chief would react when he heard about this incident. He was rather understanding towards me, for he knew me since I was a small child with a fierce temper... but this time he would not be pleased.

"You were not there! You can't judge what happened. That big galoot excoriated the Mexicans. I had to intervene."

"We were here to find clues for a theft, not to solve the problem of racism in America once and for all." His quiet voice and driving style didn't betray his feelings.

"At least he did not press charges against me," I defended my actions.

"Is that why you kicked him where you did?"

"Of course! And it worked, didn't it?" Suddenly I became unsure.

Maybe this was worse than breaking his arm. The big man was humiliated. He would take revenge. Maybe not on me, but on the Mexicans within his reach. Still – Ed had to understand and acknowledge my motives. "That white guy put the Mexicans down in a mean way. What would you have done in my place?!"

"I would not have gotten involved."

"Of course not! You never get involved! You are such a jerk, Sergeant Brown!"

Only the safety belt kept me from being slammed against the front window when Ed suddenly braked heavily and pulled the car to the side of the road. For a moment I thought that he would throw me out, but he didn't. Probably it was his own idea of being a gentleman, no matter what the circumstances. He opened his door and got out. "I suggest you radio the Chief that we call it a day. Take my car back to the office tomorrow. I'll pick it up there."

Without another word he left. I had no choice but to take the wheel, still angry at him and at an unjust world. It served him well that he had to walk home.

Ed's POV

Maybe this hadn't been such a good idea after all.

I remembered a slightly similar situation with Eve. I hadn't left the car then but had suggested that she got out.*

Yet that had been in plain daylight, plus Eve was an experienced policewoman and she could easily afford a taxi. With Fran everything was different, I thought longingly. Fran was no Eve Whitfield.

Of course she wasn't!

I shook my head at myself. Ed Brown, you have to stop comparing Fran Belding to Eve Whitfield! I told myself.
It just wasn't fair. Fran was a fine girl and a very promising police officer. She was attentive and a fast learner. She had a caring heart and she only meant well. Her wanting to protect her people was nothing but natural, and very brave too. Ultimately I had to commend her for that. Frannie was still very young, and she had just lost her father.

I had promised myself that I would be there for her. Now I had lost my temper with her again.

Would she find the lever to adjust the seat? She was so small. She would not be able to reach the accelerator... and, even more importantly, the brakes!

Dissatisfied with myself I walked homewards, and of course there was no taxi. There is never one around when you need one.

*S4 The Man on the Inside