Chapter 8

A Slight Overestimate of Speed

Ironside sat looking at the written-off car, the bent pole across the top of it. It hadn't been moved, under the Chief's orders. Eve stood behind him, twisting the handle of her bag in her hands, her silence more worrying than if she had been talking non-stop.

It was certainly Ed's Ford; and Sergeant Brown was starting to make a habit of this. That was the second one this year, and it was a damn good job Brown hadn't been behind the wheel this time, or the Commissioner would be after his badge.

The Commissioner… he would most likely hear of this soon. And when that happened, there was going to be a whole lot more trouble. Ironside could just imagine what Dennis would have to say about Ed's disappearance, and the whole undercover operation itself, not to mention the fact that they hadn't heard from Mark in over a day. But there was nothing he could do about that at the moment. He would worry about it later, and try and get some answers as quickly as he could, so that he would at least have something to placate Dennis.

Standing close by was the Traffic officer, Tom Donally. He had waited for the Chief to arrive, keeping an eye on the car before it was towed back to the police garage. He was a tall man, heavily built, with a dour, dark expression on his square face. He looked down at Ironside, unimpressed.

'What do you know, Tom?' Ironside asked.

'People on the street saw the car speeding,' Tom replied with a shrug. 'Probably not racing, just trying to get in everyone's way, that's the buzz with punks like these. Want to make people mad, and pickup a bit of speed. They skidded at the corner back there.' He turned and pointed. Sure enough, there was a line of black rubber on the asphalt.

'And then?'

'They lost control after that sharp turn and smashed it into the pole. And a damn good job they did as well or they could still have been out there. They could have smashed into something a lot less replaceable.' Donally scowled. 'I'm telling you Chief, your Sergeant Brown's going to have a lot of explaining to do.'

Ironside narrowed his eyes, looking up at the other policeman.

'What do you mean by that?'

'The keys are still in the ignition,' said Donally with a patronising smirk. 'I wouldn't have been surprised if he left the engine running as well.'

'His keys?' said Eve, giving the Chief a worried look. 'Is in the car? But that means…'

'So what about those two teenagers?' interrupted Ironside. 'You found them yet?'

Donally shook his head.

'No way, Chief. I've got every man I can spare, and a few I can't out looking but there's no way we're going to find them. It's a one in a million chance, you've gotta know that.'

'I wouldn't have put it that high,' said Ironside. 'One in a thousand, maybe.'

'There's still no way we're gonna find them, Chief.'

'We have to. We have to find out where this car was.'

'Why don't you ask Brown, it's his car? If he abandons it with the keys still inside, then that's his own fault.'

'Well, that's the problem Tom,' said Ironside, shifting in his seat. 'We've reason to think that Ed was taken by force.'

'Take by force? A cop on stakeout, carjacked? Don't be ridiculous!' Donally's face showed the contempt he thought for a man who could get himself taken out on a simple stakeout.

Ironside just looked at him coldly and made no reply.

'Well, if you say so, Chief,' Donally said doubtfully. 'But I think Brown just slipped up. And how!'

There was an edge of laughter to his voice that made Ironside even less agreeable than usual.

'If that's going to be your attitude,' snapped Ironside, 'then I suggest you leave it with us.'

Tom gave Ironside a disinterested look, perhaps debating whether or not the Chief was joking. After a few moments, he just shrugged and walked off.

Eve looked after him, fury on her face, struggling to keep herself in check.

'Let it go, Eve,' Ironside told her.

'But,' said Eve breathlessly, 'doesn't he care?'

'Apparently not.'

'But…'

'This isn't going to help us find out what happened, or find Ed,' Ironside told her. 'We've just got to make the best of what we've got until Donally gets a break.'

'But how?'

'Where did you last see Ed's car?'

'He was there when John collected me, I saw him parked half way down the street. I didn't see him after that at all.'

'Where did you go first?'

'There was this nice little jazz bar down by the Park.'

'And you're sure you didn't see Ed?'

'I deliberately didn't check, Chief.'

'Ok, then, we'll start there, after…' Ironside ground to a halt, looking at the car.

'After what?'

'After we've finished with the car.'

Ironside rolled forward, looking at Ed's smashed car. Careful not to get too close, as the pole seemed to be bent at a dangerous angle, he took as close a look as possible. There was a lot of damage to the front, the radiator was broken, the front fender was rammed into the engine block, the windscreen was smashed and the struts twisted.

But he did notice something odd, on the driver's side.

'What do you see, Officer Whitfield,' Ironside asked.

'I don't see anything but a written-off police car,' she said impatiently, not really looking at the vehicle.

'We don't normally let unmarked cars out of the garage with large dents in them,' he said, pointing at the driver's door. 'And there is no way that happened when the car hit the pole.'

On the driver's side was a dent in the panel of the door, where the metal was weakest.

'There wouldn't need to be a lot of force to make that,' Ironside said. 'Just something solid.'

'Solid? Like a body kind of solid?' asked Eve, her voice showing her worry.

Ironside nodded.

'Something knocked him off-balance and he hit the car door on the way down.'

'Oh, Chief,' said Eve, her hand covering her mouth. 'Chief do you really think that's what happened?'

'It's only an assumption,' replied Ironside gruffly, sinking down into his wheelchair. 'But it's a good enough start.'

'So he was out of the car, with the keys in the ignition.'

'He would only do that in specific places, say if he somehow lost you and Carlson, but he could still see Carlson's car. Maybe he would pull over, get out and take a quick look. Carlson wouldn't likely leave his Jaguar behind on a night out. You don't drive a car like that around the City unless you want to show it off.'

Ironside stopped, not liking where this line of thought was going. If Ed had indeed lost sight of Eve for a short while, then he would know what was in store for him when he had to report that fact back to his boss. Maybe it had made him careless.

He took a deep breath. Maybe this, maybe that, or maybe whatever.

But he could picture the scene in his imagination. Something got in Ed's way, something slowed him down and by the time he reached the Jaguar, Carlson and Eve were gone, into one of the clubs. So the first thing Ed would do was get his bearings and search the local area; so he'd get out and take a quick look around. That's what Ironside himself would have done in those circumstances.

But as soon as he'd set foot on the pavement, someone took him out, and using no small force, either. If he was taken by surprise, if he wasn't expecting trouble, then he would be an easy target. Ironside shook his head. But no. No, that just wouldn't work. Even if he was an easy target, the likelihood of that happening by chance was too small.

And neither Ironside nor Ed were expecting trouble; he was just there to keep a close eye on Eve and observe from a distance. He was just there to keep her safe. There shouldn't have been any sort of trouble at all. Ed wouldn't have let himself get sidelined by something, not while he was tailing Eve. If there had been anything unexpected, he would have called it in and got on with his job.

Ironside looked back at the dent in the side of the car. His frown grew deeper. That was the heart of the problem, it wouldn't have happened by chance.

'Chief?' asked Eve after a very long silence. 'Chief, what does it mean?'

He drew a long breath. There was another explanation, one that was much more cynical and much more alarming. In sending Ed out after Eve, Ironside had let him walk into a cleverly conceived trap.

'Chief?' asked Eve again. 'You're starting to scare me.'

'Ed was just tailing you this evening. Wasn't he, Eve?' Ironside said suddenly.

'Yes,' she replied, confused.

Ironside shook his head.

'No, Ed was also tailing John Carlson!'

Ed Brown was only vaguely aware of what was going on around him. There was very little noise or movement, and very little to suggest where he was. At first he didn't try to move, he kept his eyes closed, trying to figure out what was going on.

He ached everywhere. That was the clearest sensation, especially across the back of his head, and down his left side. His head felt foggy and his mind slow, but not like he'd been coshed, more like he'd taken too many sleeping tablets. But he'd been attacked, that much was obvious. But whoever had attacked him didn't hit him, though the side of his head told him that he'd been hit by something. Slowly, he tensed his left arm, feeling it sore. What had happened?

It was clear that he was in trouble. Big trouble. And not just from the Chief for screwing up his assignment. If anything had happened to Eve, the Chief wasn't going to demote him, he was going to lynch him.

Worrying about that at the moment didn't help. But there were small things to be thankful for. At least this time Ironside wasn't going to have to untie him from a bed, where two art thieves had thoughtfully left him last time he'd let his guard down; Ed's ego had taken a long time to recover from that little disaster, and thank God the Chief had been discrete or he wouldn't have had any reputation left. He could still see the faintly amused, disdainful smile on Ironside's face as he and Mark had opened the door of the hotel room where he'd been held. Nothing would ever be as bad as that again. But this was going to come close.

Ed drew a long, slow breath in, steeling himself for what he might be facing, and opened his eyes.

At first there was nothing much to see. It was very dark, wherever he was, with only two sources of light. One was from a narrow grilled window, set chest height in the wall to his right. The other was the outline of a door, with about half an inch gap at the bottom and a faint, yellowish haze around the rest of the frame.

For a minute, Ed let his eyes adjust to the darkness. From the door, he heard the occasional sound of footsteps and muffled conversation, but there was nothing immediately threatening.

After a minute, Ed pushed himself upright into a sitting position. He had been lying on a carpeted floor that had been surprisingly comfortable, but in the dark he couldn't make out any details. The room smelled like an old, forgotten basement, but there was the faint but familiar odour of cordite, as if something had been set on fire a while ago and the air hadn't cleared.

Next, he stood up. And though he felt slightly giddy as he rose, he didn't fall which he took to be a positive sign. Quietly, he moved over to the door, still not sure if there was anything in his way that he could walk into and make a noise.

Then he tried the door. But that was shut fast with no handle on this side, and no sign of a keyhole. He frowned. It was most likely bolted for the outside, which would make it very difficult to force. he felt round the edge, but there were no hinges either. Chances were that it opened out the way, making any attempt to surprise someone who came in mush lees workable.

So it looked like he was stuck, at least for the time being.

At that thought, he rested his head against the cold of the door, and swore to himself, hearing loud and clear precisely what the Chief was going to say to him about this misadventure. Having to be bailed out of yet another jam was getting to be embarrassing. He was a cop; a sergeant for God's sake. He was supposed to be able to take care of himself not get taken out like a rookie, two days after leaving the Academy.

While his previous errors hadn't exactly been his own fault, this one certainly was, he should have been more careful, it was as simple as that. But it wasn't just his reputation on the line; Ironside didn't tolerate fools, especially on his own staff. And Ironside wasn't the sort of man to give out many second chances. A small wave of panic went through him at that thought. He had to get himself out of this, as fast as he could.

Frustrated, Ed ran his hand over the door one more time, to make sure he hadn't missed anything. But he hadn't. There was no getting out through the door. He looked around the room again, his eyes now better adapted to the gloom, but that gave him no help. But for the carpet, there was no furniture. High up on the far wall opposite the door there was the small, vent-like window, and Ed went across to take a closer look, as there was no other possible exit that he could see.

It was narrow, even if he got it open it would be a tight squeeze to get out. But it was close enough to the ground for him to get into. But the only problem with that as an escape route was that the grille was fixed fast into the wall. He felt his pockets, though without much hope. Sure enough he'd been clean out of everything. His pocket knife, even his keys and his loose change, as well and his badge and his gun. It was all gone. Of course it was all gone. Whoever put him in here wasn't stupid.

Having exhausted all the obvious possibilities, Ed gave a heartfelt sigh, and slid down to the floor. He sat with his back to the wall, his knees bent up, with his arms across them, and tipped his head back, to stare at the invisible ceiling.

He was stuck. Someone had made very sure of that.

But who? And why? Maybe those were the things he should be concentrating on, rather than getting himself out of here by brute force. Maybe he would get the chance to talk his way out. But who would want to shut him in a room like this, and why?

It had been a deliberate kidnapping. What's more, it had been specifically him. The men that had come at him were the ones from the car that had cut in right in front of his Ford at the junction. It had been carefully planned and expertly executed and he'd just walked straight into it. But that led on to an inescapable conclusion, that whoever it was had been expecting someone to be there, tailing Eve and Carlson. If they knew Eve was a cop, they would have expected her to have some backup. But that didn't explain why they'd taken him out, unless Eve was in trouble too.

Ed closed his eyes, praying that his stupid mistake hadn't landed her in this as well.

Fortunately, there was another possibility, that someone had been expecting Carlson to be tailed. If he was a suspect in a murder investigation, it was only natural that a cop would follow him, just to keep an eye on what was going on. And Carlson was a suspect, Ironside had been sure that he was involved.

Ed frowned. His logic was sound enough, but something felt off about the whole thing. Assuming Eve was ok, why would Carlson take such a risk? Kidnapping wasn't an easy rap to beat. Why would he get involved…? Unless he hadn't been. Unless he been set up as well. With a shake of his head, Ed rubbed his eyes with the finger and thumb of his right hand, tired of his own thinking. None of it mattered very much at that moment.

Either way, there was one thing in this whole mess that was a dead certainty: Ironside was going to have his badge!