Chapter 5

The Man Himself

The phone rang at just after five.

Fortunately for Ironside, a half-dress and half-asleep Ed Brown was awake enough to stagger over to answer before it stopped. The Chief waited in bed as Ed brought the phone over.

'Mark,' said Brown, with a slight slur, and Ironside watched in mild amusement as Ed slumped onto a nearby chair, put his arms on the desk, laid down his head, and closed his eyes.

'Yes, what is it Mark? You'd better have a good reason for disturbing my sleep like this.'

From the way he was speaking, Ironside quickly realised that Mark was blind, stinking drunk, but he told him everything he'd seen and heard with remarkable detail, and a surprisingly concise way. He told him about Archie and Mikey, and the way that everyone avoid them, and that they seemed to be a good lead.

'Good work, Mark,' said Ironside. 'You can get back here.'

'Well… no.'

'No?'

'I'm gonna stick around,' he said.

'Mark, that isn't a good idea.'

'I'm in something, man,' said Mark. 'Something's going down, and these two are involved.'

'Mark…' It was to soon, and almost too easy. The last thing he wanted was Mark fished out of the Bay tomorrow morning. 'I could order you to come back.'

'You'd just have to fire me, as I'm not the fuzz,' came the slightly smug reply.

'Mark, this isn't a game.'

'I can handle it. I know what I'm doing. They trust me.'

'This isn't a good idea.'

'But it's the only lead you have at the moment.' Again Mark was making infuriating sense. 'Look, man, it's cool. I'm gonna go somewhere close by to sleep off this hangover. Archie asked me to go along. They've got this pad downtown.'

'What did you say?'

'I said I just had to cancel my date,' he replied with a laugh. 'They're waiting for me.'

'I don't like this Mark,' said Ironside, not laughing as well. 'You were supposed to be in and out in a few hours. You have no cover. You have no backup. You'll be out on your own.'

'But this is a good lead, man,' he said. 'I'm not going to get another crack at it. Look, I need to go. I'll call when I can.'

'I still don't like it,' insisted Ironside. 'What if they make you?'

'But I'm not a cop,' Mark reminded him. 'I'm just a cat hanging out for some action. There's a big difference.'

There seemed to be no way of talking him out of this. He had no option but to agree, and Ironside hated having no options.

'Be careful,' warned Ironside.

'You don't need to tell me, man.' There was a pause. 'And there was one other thing. But I don't think you're not gonna like it.'

It would have to be bad if he was going to like it even less than his aide going off on his own undercover.

'Well, spit it out. The sooner you tell me, the sooner we'll know if your right.'

'I saw Eve.'

'Eve?'

'She came to the Blue Corner with Carlson, and stayed 'til it shut. They seemed to be very… friendly. I saw her leave with him about a half hour ago. Thought I'd better tell you.'

'Friendly?' said Ironside.

'Yeah, man. He kept calling her "my girl Evie".'

'Evie?'

'Yeah.'

'Ok, Mark. Keep in close contact.'

'Sure thing.'

There was a click as Mark hung up, and Ironside put the phone slowly down, a deep frown on his face. Evie! What was she playing at? And where was she?

'Ed!' he bellowed.

The sergeant jerked his head up off the desk, blinking hard. He had only gone to bed after midnight, and some of the reports still weren't done, now he was left to do all the paperwork by himself.

'What is it, Chief?' he asked.

'Get Eve over here! Now! Call her!' He waved the phone at Ed, who stumbled across and took it. As he started dialling, Ironside struggled into a sitting position and started the insufferably slow process of getting out of bed.

'Well?' demanded Ironside, as Ed hung up.

'She's on her way over. Can I go back to sleep now?'

'No, you cannot, Sergeant Brown. Get dressed!'

'Dressed?'

'Then you can help me get dressed.'

'Dressed? But it's only five.'

'And you are supposed to be one of the cities finest,' Ironside said in a cutting tone. 'We don't sleep when we need to work.'

Ed just stared at him.

'And we don't have all day!' Ironside growled.

'Chief?'

The office was unnaturally quiet when Eve arrived. Ed was tucked away in one corner with a large cup of coffee, finishing off the reports that he didn't manage to get done the night before, pretending not to be listening.

Ironside himself waited by the main desk. He looked up as Eve entered. She was wearing a gaudy dress and a red scarf, and looked like she had just stepped out of a Club; which of course, she had, assuming Mark was right. Ironside had never seen her look quite so beatnik before.

'What's wrong, Chief,' Eve asked, sounding worried. 'Why did you call me?'

'Why didn't you call in?' he demanded.

'You didn't give me much of a chance,' she said. 'I had just got in the door when Ed phoned. I am undercover, you know.'

'At five?'

'I was working,' she said.

'I've spoken to Mark,' said Ironside.

Eve didn't even blink, though she must have guessed what was coming.

'So?'

'He saw you with John Carlson.'

'Chief, you sound like my mother,' Eve replied calmly.

'You were undercover to get information,' Ironside said sternly. 'Not to go out on the town with the suspect. What were you thinking, Officer Whitfield? This is not some sort of dating agency!'

'When you sent me undercover in the bar, I was supposed to get close to Carlson. I did. Just closer than you thought I'd get.'

'You were not supposed to start being wined and dined by a potential murderer!' he said angrily.

'I know what I am doing,' said Eve. 'We were in public places the whole time. And he was the perfect gentleman.'

'So what exactly did you learn on your evening out?' said Ironside, sarcasm leaking into his tone.

'John Carlson doesn't do much promoting anymore. He's virtually retired, but his name carries a lot of weight in the right circles, that's why he's always seen out. And he knows everybody. And everybody knows him. And as far as anyone in the fighting world is concerned, he's the one to know. But, if there were anything going on, he would likely not know, he's just not involved like that. Said he had other business interests and he just shows up to keep himself in the spotlight.'

Ironside's anger was only slightly mollified by Eve's report.

'Well at least you discovered something.'

'Um…'

'What?' Ironside snapped. 'What else is there, Officer Whitfield?'

'He's… well, he's asked me out again tonight,' said Eve.

'What!' bellowed Ironside. 'You're not going!'

'You still sound like my mother, Chief!' said Eve indignantly. 'I know what I'm doing. I'm still a police officer doing a job. You wouldn't act like this if it were Ed!'

In a sense she was right, and he knew it. But then, Ed wasn't that likely to be wined and dined by a murder suspect.

'Don't you trust me?' she asked, hurt sounding in her voice. The implied rebuke took the sting out of his anger.

'Of course I trust you, Eve,' he said more gently. 'I don't like the idea of you being so close to Carlson without backup. He's dangerous.'

'Carlson seems…'

'No matter what he seems like,' interrupted Ironside, 'he is still the prime suspect in a string of murders. What do you think would happen if he found out you were a policewoman?'

Eve had no answer to than. She looked at the ground.

Ironside let the silence stretch out, while he thought. He was too angry and too anxious to decide at the moment, and there was no need for any snap decisions about this.

'Go home, Eve,' he told her. She opened her mouth to argue, but he held up his hand. 'Go home, get some sleep and go back to work at the bar. Be back here by six this evening and we maybe have come up with a plan.'

Eve smiled a winning smile at him.

'Thank you, Chief.'

'That doesn't mean you're going,' he insisted.

'No Chief,' she said, but she was still smiling as she went out of the door.

Ironside watched her leave and sighed. What was he to do now? It was a golden opportunity to get some answers, but it was dangerously close to getting Eve in too deep.

'Come on, Ed,' he said suddenly. 'You can stop pretending to write and do some real work.'

Giving a knowing smile, Ed stood up, pulling his jacket off the back of his chair.

'We're going somewhere, Chief? Right now?'

Ironside nodded. It was time to put some pressure on. It was time to go and see the man himself. He rubbed his hands together, and then pushed himself towards the ramp.

'Let's go and see John Carlson.'

The house was in a smart part of the city, with a nice view over the Bay and the Bridge, with a tidy garden and a large, cream-coloured Jaguar in the driveway.

Ed knocked sharply on the door. A dark-haired butler appeared within a moment.

'Police,' said Ed, showing the man his badge. 'We would like to speak with Mr John Carlson.'

'Very good. If you would follow me.'

The house was richly decorated in a surprisingly old-fashion style, with a large, spacious hallway, interesting but not unique.

Ironside and Ed were shown into the front room. Again, it was richly decorated, with sparse furniture. The fireplace was adorned by a set of golden trophies and there was a large picture of a fighting arena in pride of place above. Ironside wheeled himself over, looking up to examine it.

'Do you like my picture?' asked a voice.

Ironside turned. John Carlson was standing in the doorway, a look of surprise on his face. He was a thick-set man in his mid-fifties, with a long face and squint nose, where it had been broken in a fight many, many years before. He was dressed in a smart, expensive looking suit, with cold buttons and gold cufflinks. As he reached out to shake hands, Ironside noticed a gold watch as well.

The Chief smiled, although he'd hoped that, by showing up at the door so early, he might get the drop on him. But Carlson was looking as wide awake, and ready for a new day.

As Carlson stepped inside, another man followed him into the room. About fifty, he had a rounded face that contrasted with his lean, muscular figure, with dark hair and dark eyes. He was as immaculately dressed as Carlson, but looked ill at ease. He frowned as he gave Ironside a limp handshake.

'No one could fail to recognise you, Chief Ironside,' said Carlson. 'This is my assistant, Pete Paxton.'

'And this is mine,' said Ironside, mimicking the forced politeness. 'Sergeant Brown.'

Paxton held out his hand.

'Your badge?'

Surprised, Ed still produced his wallet and handed it over. Ironside noticed the faintest flicker of doubt on Paxton's face as he looked at Ed's badge, but Paxton handed it back without comment.

'To what do I owe this pleasure, Chief Ironside?' asked Carlson.

'Fights,' said Ironside bluntly.

'You're not going to get an insider tip from me,' Carlson said. 'That's illegal.'

Ironside gave him a thin smile.

'There are illegal fights going on in this city,' he said.

'There are always illegal fights going on, in any city. But I left that behind a long, long time ago.'

'Really?'

'I play it straight now, Chief,' Carlson said. 'Show me someone who says different, and I will show you a bare-faced liar!'

He seemed so sincere that Ironside was momentarily surprised. Still on the offensive, he flicked his steely gaze up to the other man.

'What about you, Mr Paxton? What do you know?'

'I just know what John tells me,' he replied.

Carlson laughed at the other man's response.

'He keeps me at the right place at the right time, Chief Ironside,' he said. 'I'm a busy man, I would be lost without him.'

Paxton gave a smug smile.

'But you haven't told me why you're here,' said Carlson.

'Underground fighting is why I'm here, Mr Carlson,' said the Chief.

'I don't know anything about that!' he snapped. 'I don't do that any more.'

'You don't?'

'No!'

'Not any more?'

Carlson gave a grudging smile.

'Your young Sergeant might not know, but I'm sure your memory would stretch back far enough to remember what I used to be like.'

Ironside nodded.

'I remember very clearly.'

'So if something comes up,' continued Carlson. 'You come knocking on my door? I thought a man was innocent until he was proved guilty, Chief Ironside.'

'He is.'

'I did my time for what I did. I paid and I'm clean. For a long time, I've just found good fighters. I made them big and they paid me well for it. That's all.'

What struck Ironside was the vehemence with which he spoke. The man believed every word, and Ironside began to wonder if he had misjudged the whole situation. Then Paxton spoke.

'Look, you can't come in here accusing people of whatever you like, Chief Ironside.'

'I need to find out the facts,' Ironside said.

'The facts about what?'

Ironside hesitated, not sure how much information to reveal. He was surprised at Carlson; he wasn't like he'd expected he to be. He wasn't like he remembered. Back in the day, Carlson had been cold, and vicious and intention getting what he wanted, regardless of what stood in his way. Maybe the man had changed.

Nevertheless, everything Ironside had seen and heard there today didn't change the facts, or what the facts were telling him. It was someone like Carlson who was running the ring and killing people; all the evidence, and all of his instincts, told him so. Carlson did have a connection. Somewhere.

'Do you have any reason at all to be here, Chief Ironside? Or are you just wanting to reminisce?'

'We have reason to believe there is a fighting ring in the city,' he said.

Carlson laughed.

'There are always fights in the city,' he repeated.

'This one is small, probably exclusive. Very high pay.'

'Exclusive?' echoed Carlson with an ironic tone. 'So you came to me? How thoughtful.'

'You know what's going down.'

'But I don't,' replied Carlson. 'I have no knowledge of anything like that. I'm not interested in illegal fights. I go to small spars for show, to give an idea of their form, yes, but not real fights. No the kind of fights you're implying.' He gave Ironside a hard look. 'And if that's all you came to ask me about, you can leave. Now!'

At the words, the butler appeared at the door.

Ironside paused for a moment, giving Carlson a hard stare. There was nothing else to be gained by staying. Not at the moment. He had done what he set out to do, anyway. He had shown his face and hopefully given Carlson something to think about. It was now a waiting game to see what he would do.

'Well, thank you for your time,' said Ironside, wheeling himself past Carlson towards the door, with Ed giving a hand to push against the thick pile of the luxurious carpets. 'Maybe we will see you again sometime soon.'

'Maybe you will not,' replied Carlson.

A few moments later, the two policemen were outside, and the door was unceremoniously shut behind them.

Wordlessly, Ed helped Ironside into the van then clambered into the drivers seat. He looked unsettled.

'What was all that about?' he asked as he turned the engine over. 'You still think Carlson is involved?'

'I don't know,' replied Ironside thoughtfully. 'He's involved, I'm more convinced than ever. Someone with his name and his connections has to be.'

'But…?' asked Ed.

'But… it might be more indirect than I thought. If it's not the man himself, it could be someone close to him.'

He heard Ed sigh. Ironside smiled, leaning forward so he could see Ed's expression.

'What's the matter Sergeant? Loosing you taste for police work?'

'What I wouldn't give for a nice, straightforward robbery,' replied Ed, giving Ironside a rueful look. 'I suppose you want all Carlson's associates checked out?'

'And the rest.'

'And the rest,' echoed Ed. 'I know, the works from start to finish.'

'Sorry Ed,' said Ironside, patting him on the shoulder, 'but…'

'…but it's my job and I wanted it. I know that too.'

'And it's not going to get any easier just sitting around here. Let's go!'