CHAPTER 7.
"…and then the creep tried to, like…well Ray and Fraser saved me so it was OK, thank god, but I promise I'm not interested in drugs at all, I just wanted to do something exciting on my first night out in the big city. Oh and I met Inspector Thatcher and oh my god she's so elegant! And, y'know, like, majestic. And your friend Francesca, I totally love her! She was so kind to me yesterday… "
"Serendipity…"
"I don't know how long it's gonna take Mum and Dad to get here, but when they do they're gonna be, like, sooo happy to see you and can you imagine what Mum is gonna say when she meets Dief! You know she'll want to, like, take him home in her bag or something, so…"
"Dippy…"
Finally Dippy realised Fraser was calling her name and stopped talking. She was sitting at Constable Turnbull's bedside in the hospital, holding his hand and had spent the last fifteen minutes telling her brother all about the last few days. She turned to Fraser and smiled. "I know, I know, I'm talking too much," she said with an apologetic grin. She turned back to her brother. "Sorry, Ren," she said. "I'm just so happy you're OK."
Turnbull returned a weak smile. "As am I," he replied in a croaky voice. "Are you…are you really here in Chicago?" His mind was still full of the weird and colourful images and strange noises he'd been experiencing since he'd been in a coma and he was having some difficulty now that he was back living in the real world.
"Yes, silly!" replied Dippy, grinning from ear to ear. "I'm really here."
"The nurse said you'll be a little disorientated for a while," said Fraser. "It's nothing to worry about. You'll be back to…er, to normal in no time." Fraser hadn't meant to stumble over referring to Turnbull as 'normal', but for some reason it hadn't rolled off his tongue quite as easily as it might have done.
"I…I'm sorry, sir," muttered Turnbull. "For neglecting my…my duties, sir."
"You were in a coma!" exclaimed Dippy. "You're not gonna get in trouble for being in a coma. It's not like it was your fault. That guy shot you and then your heart, like, totally stopped and then your brain shut down and it's taken a while for it to start working again. That's right, isn't it, Fraser?"
"Well, that's essentially…"
"My heart stopped?" half whispered Turnbull. He remembered the doctor talking to him a short while ago, but the details of the conversation had completely gone from his mind already.
"Yes," confirmed Fraser. "You lost a lot of blood and went into cardiac arrest in the ambulance on the way to the hospital."
"You were technically dead for, like, four minutes or something," sad Dippy, excitedly. "I mean, how cool is that? Not being dead, I don't mean that, I mean that you were dead and you came back to life. Did you, like, see a light, or did you have one of those out of body experiences? Coz I read this magazine once and this woman died on the operating table, but they got her back and she said she was floating over her own body and she could see the doctors doing that thing where they give you an electric shock and she was, like, totally freaking out and…"
"Good god, son, where do these people get such ridiculous ideas? It's nothing like that at all."
"Dad! Er, I mean Dippy!" Fraser glared at his father who had just appeared in the corner of the room. Fortunately for Fraser, Dippy had been talking too much to notice his slip up, and poor Turnbull was struggling to focus on anything so Fraser could have called out any name and neither of them would have acknowledged the error.
The ghost of Bob Fraser walked around the bed, inspecting Constable Turnbull at close quarters. "He looks pale," he announced. "Not a good colour for a Mountie. Mounties should have ruddy cheeks."
"He only regained consciousness a few hours ago," retorted Fraser, shaking his head. "Ruddy cheeks?" he added, half under his breath.
"The sooner he gets back on his feet the sooner he can help with the investigation," continued Bob. "You and the Yank still haven't got your man. What's taking you so long?"
"This is not the time, nor place for this discussion," scowled Fraser.
Dippy realised that Fraser suddenly seemed angry with her. "Oh… sorry," she said nervously and mimed zipping her lips together with her thumb and forefinger.
Fraser realised how his frustrations towards his father must have looked to her and he tried to smile reassuringly. "Just give him some time," he urged and Dippy nodded silently.
"I do feel rather…peculiar," said Turnbull. He stared at the blank walls of the hospital room and tried to piece things together. He didn't even know how much time had passed since the shooting. He was sure he'd asked the doctor and then also asked Fraser, but he couldn't recall either of their answers. Maybe he hadn't asked at all?
Turnbull shifted uncomfortably in his bed. He hated being out of uniform in front of Fraser and he hated feeling so weak and helpless. He tightened his grip on his sister's hand. It was good to have Serendipity here, it was good to have someone's hand to hold.
"Do you remember anything about what happened, Turnbull?" Fraser asked the younger Mountie, glancing around the room to find – to his relief - that his father had disappeared.
Turnbull frowned. "Not really," he said. He remembered the searing pain and the feeling that he'd let everyone down - neither of those had really faded yet - but the reasoning behind both feelings currently escaped him. "What did happen, exactly?"
"You were shot!" said Dippy. She immediately clamped her hand over her mouth and looked apologetically at her brother.
"Outside the Consulate," added Fraser. "Unfortunately, although we have three suspects, the perpetrator is still at large," he explained.
"I'm sure you and Detective…" began Turnbull, but he trailed off and his face fell into a frown. "Um, Detective, um…"
"Vecchio," prompted Fraser.
"Yes, Vecchio," agreed Turnbull. "I'm sure you and the Detective are…are, um…are…"
"I think you need to rest," said Fraser. "Perhaps you and I should take a walk outside, Dippy?"
"Oh, but I want to stay," whined Dippy. "At least until the doc says I have to leave. Please, Fraser. I promise I won't talk."
Fraser found it impossible to take her at her word. The idea of Dippy not talking was almost unthinkable. However, he couldn't insist that she leave her brother's side. Maybe Turnbull would be glad of the company as he slowly regained the use of his faculties? Fraser remembered how disturbed and disorientated he'd felt during the first few days of his own recovery. He'd been glad of Ray's company – the Detective formerly known as Ray Vecchio - at that time. At least Turnbull was safe in the knowledge that his sister hadn't been the one who shot him.
"Is that alright with you, Constable?" he enquired, quickly pushing all those bad memories out of his head as he addressed his fallen colleague.
"Of course," replied Turnbull. Another feeling suddenly came rushing back and he was overcome with emotion. "I've…I've missed you," he said, smiling at his sister as tears formed in his eyes.
"I've missed you too, big brother," replied Dippy and she took a tissue from the box on his bedside cabinet and wiped his eyes, smiling as she desperately tried to hide her own tears.
Fraser took the emotional scene as his cue to leave and quietly slipped out the door.
Dippy quickly composed herself. She was too happy to stay upset for long. She glanced at the door as it closed behind Fraser. "He's sooo nice," she said. "Fraser, I mean," she clarified, in case her brother was in any doubt. "He's kinda hot, too, but don't worry, I don't, like, see him that way. He's just a friend. I know I've only known him a few days, but anything else would be weird. I mean, I kissed Ray and that was weird."
"You…you did what?" Turnbull wasn't sure if he'd heard her correctly, or if this was one of those disorientated coming-out-of-a-coma moments.
"Don't worry, it was a mistake," Dippy smiled. "It's all cool. We, like, sorted it out."
"Good," replied Turnbull. He let out a sigh and began to wonder what else he'd missed. He made a mental note never to end up in a coma again.
xXxXx
"I said I was sorry, Ray." Fraser glanced down at Dief and held the phone a little way from his ear while Ray yelled a reply.
Dief yapped and Fraser shrugged.
"I assumed you'd be awake at this hour," continued Fraser, apologetically. "My mistake."
Ray yelled some more before finally calming down and asking what it was that was so important that Fraser had had to call him in the middle of the night.
"Actually, it's not the middle of the night at all, Ray," said Fraser. He knew he was risking a further reaction from Ray, but he couldn't help himself. "The sun rose some time ago. Anyway, the reason for my call is to inform you of an important development in the case. Inspector Thatcher telephoned from Cincinnati. The local police department arrested a certain Mr Bernard Wilson…surely you remember, Ray? The man whose wife became romantically involved with a Mountie…leading to the end of their marriage…our third suspect. Yes…yes, I know…however he is denying any involvement in either shooting. Well, yes, it is somewhat of a coincidence that he was in Cincinnati…yes…and even more of a coincidence that a truck driver has identified him as a hitchhiker he transported to the city from Chicago a few days ago.
Fraser paused to let his half-asleep friend take on board the new information. Ray asked a couple of questions, but Fraser had no more information. The call with Inspector Thatcher had been brief. She had been relieved to hear that Constable Turnbull was awake, but his recovery had only led her to another pang of guilt regarding the reasons why he had anything to recover from in the first place. After quickly explaining to Fraser that she was hoping to have the paperwork in place to transport Wilson back to Chicago for questioning by the end of the day, she had abruptly ended the call.
"I'm afraid she didn't say," Fraser replied with a frown when Ray had asked if Wilson had made any kind of confession.
Fraser was still concerned about the Inspector's mental wellbeing. The whole incident had taken its toll on her and the…well, the complicated nature of their relationship meant it was difficult for him to know how to deal with it. Should he ask if she was alright? Should he ask if she wanted to talk about it? Should he tell her that he was worried about her? Or was that overstepping a boundary? They had overstepped plenty of those before, though - one particularly big boundary came instantly to mind - so did it really matter? Fraser sighed. When this case was all over, if he still felt she needed him, he would make sure she knew he was there for her. He hoped she knew it already.
"As soon as the documentation is in place and a flight can be arranged," Fraser answered when Ray asked about the timeframe involved. "The RCMP have no permanent Consulate in Cincinnati so it was felt that the Chicago PD should lead the investigation together with the RCMP, of course…yes, Ray, that means the Inspector and myself…"
Dief growled a low throaty growl.
"And Diefenbaker," added Fraser, wondering exactly how a deaf wolf could hear the conversation at all, particularly Ray's side of it. "I'll see you at the station, Ray. And again, I'm terribly sorry for waking you. Please continue wallowing."
Fraser replaced the receiver and looked up as Dippy came skipping down the stairs with a smile on her face.
"That was the best night's sleep ever!" she declared. "I'll make breakfast and then we can go visit Ren. The doc said some more of his brain cells might have, like, switched themselves back on this morning. Apparently he is exhausted, which is kinda weird, don't you think? I mean, he's been asleep for days, right? The doc tried to explain it to me, but he was using all of these, like, totally big words that I didn't understand so I have no idea what he meant. Morning Diefenbaker." Dippy bent to rub his ears affectionately. "So shall I make waffles, or pancakes? I know you have oatmeal, like, every day, but that's sooo boring!"
"Actually I rather like oatmeal."
"Well I'll teach you to like something else, you don't want to get, like, totally stuck in your ways," replied Dippy. "Variety is the spice of life, that's what they say, isn't it?"
"I believe that is a popular expression."
"So…" Dippy was about to continue, but she stopped talking – much to Fraser's relief – as there was a loud knock at the door.
Fraser went to open it. "Good morning," he began with a smile, but his smile quickly faded. "Mrs Weller," he said in surprise. "What on earth happened? Come in, come in."
Lucinda Weller hurried into the building. She had her young daughter in her arms; both were dressed in just their nightclothes. Lucinda had a thin, yellow robe hanging loosely around her shoulders and little Katy was wearing pink Minnie Mouse pyjamas and she had bare feet. Lucinda's hair was dripping wet and her breath was coming in erratic gasps.
"Dippy, please fetch some blankets from my closet," Fraser instructed and Dippy quickly ran off towards his office.
"Someone…someone was…" began Lucinda, but she could barely get the words out.
"Come and sit down," said Fraser with concern and he gently took Katy from her mother's arms and led her into the reception room. The child clung to him tightly, burying her face into his neck.
Lucinda sat down on the large, leather sofa and Fraser placed Katy by her mother's side. He was concerned that the little girl hadn't made a sound. She was just staring into her lap, completely withdrawn from her surroundings.
Lucinda took a deep breath and tried to explain. "I was in the…the shower," she said, "and I heard a noise and Katy…she screamed and…and…"
"Take your time," urged Fraser as Dippy returned with two large Hudson's Bay blankets.
Dippy helped Lucinda drape one of the blankets around her trembling shoulders, while Fraser took the other one and wrapped it around Katy. As he did so, Katy winced and let out a quiet whimper.
"Katy?" said Fraser with concern. He'd been very gentle with the blanket, but it had obviously caused her pain. "Where does it hurt?" he asked and he knelt down on one knee in front of her.
Katy said nothing.
"Oh god… he did something to her," said Lucinda and tears began to well in her eyes.
"Who?" asked Fraser, trying to coerce some information out of her about what had happened.
Dippy watched the events with her arms clutched tightly around her waist. She had no idea who these people were, but she hated seeing anyone this scared and upset.
"I don't know," replied Lucinda. "I didn't see. He was in our house – he was there with Katy – but…but…but he ran off when I came downstairs. I don't know how he got in."
Fraser turned back to Katy and pulled the blanket away from her shoulders. He couldn't see any obvious injuries, but then he realised that she was holding her left arm awkwardly, resting her hand in her lap, but tensing the shoulder. "Katy, does your arm hurt?" he asked. He reached out slowly but she tried to back away. "It's alright," he said soothingly.
"It's OK, sweetie," said Dippy. She finally realised this was the little girl Fraser had told her about yesterday. Katy's uncle might be the man who shot Renfield. Dippy recognised the fear in Katy's eyes, she had been in some scary situations at her age – one incident with a bear sprung to mind - and those feelings could be overwhelming when you were young. "There's no way Fraser is gonna, like, hurt you. I promise," she said compassionately. "D'you see this?" Dippy lifted her hair away from the side of her forehead to display the bruise from the other night. It was fading now, but the dark purple shape with yellowing blotches was still clearly visible. "Look," she urged,
Slowly, Katy's curiosity got the better of her and she lifted her head to look at Dippy.
"I fell up the stairs," explained Dippy. "I'd just done something really dumb, so it was kinda my fault, but it really hurt and I was mad at myself for tripping over. Fraser helped me with, like, ice and he was really kind to me and he totally made me feel better." Dippy smiled a huge smile when she'd finished.
The corners of Katy's mouth twitched into a tiny smile in return.
Fraser watched Katy while Dippy was talking to her; Dippy seemed to have captured the little girl's attention. Slowly, he reached out again and this time the girl let him touch her arm. He turned to Lucinda. "Do you think it was Jonathan in your house?" he asked her.
Lucinda paused before answering. "I…I don't know," she replied, wiping her eyes. "A few days ago I would have said no, but…but things have changed. He's changed."
Fraser nodded slowly. It was possible that Jonathan Bell had returned to his sister's house. His mental state was somewhat of an unknown quantity, so in his confusion he may have caused harm to his niece without meaning to. "Can you move your fingers?" Fraser asked Katy.
Katy didn't respond.
Fraser glanced at Lucinda with some concern and she sighed with worry and frustration. "Why is she acting like this?" she asked Fraser.
"I'm not sure," he replied. He slipped his fingers into Katy's tiny hand. "Can you squeeze my fingers? As hard as you can," he requested.
Still nothing.
"Come on, Katy," urged Lucinda, but even she was unable to garner a response from her daughter. "I can't believe Jon would hurt her," she said sadly to Fraser. "He loves her, he dotes on her, and she loves him too."
Dippy walked over to Katy and sat on the couch. She took Katy's other hand in hers and then grabbed Fraser's free hand. Katy's gaze followed her every move. "OK, sweetie," said Dippy. "Can you, like, squeeze both our hands? Like this." And she gave a good squeeze.
Katy hesitated for a moment and then copied Dippy.
Fraser was relieved at the strength in her grip. "Good girl," he smiled, glancing gratefully at Dippy.
"Now wriggle your fingers," urged Dippy, releasing her grip and wriggling her own fingers. "Look, wiggly worms!" she said with a grin.
Katy hesitated again, but then she let out a tiny giggle and copied the action.
"Thank you, Katy," said Fraser. He smiled at her, but the little girl's gaze was firmly fixed on Dippy so she didn't see the gesture. "Now I'd like to take a look at this elbow," he continued, slowly rolling up her sleeve. Katy allowed him to do what he had to do, but still refused to look at him, or her mother.
"Did Uncle Jon do this?" Lucinda asked her daughter as Fraser carefully examined her arm. She was afraid of the answer, but right now she needed to know. However Katy said nothing.
"I'm always, like, hurting myself," said Dippy, hoping to take Katy's mind off the pain in her arm. "I can't help it. When I was a kid I was always, like, tripping over my toys. I mean, I guess if I'd tidied my room more often…well, anyway now I trip over other stuff like rugs and stairs. I still have, like, loads of my old toys back home. What's your favourite toy? Do you have teddy bears, or dolls? I love dolls. I like to fix their hair, have you ever done that?"
Dippy paused and waited for Katy to reply. She smiled warmly at the little girl.
Finally, Katy nodded. "Yes," she said in a quiet voice.
Fraser nodded appreciatively at Dippy. Finally her incessant talking has been good for something, he thought to himself. He glanced at Lucinda as he wrapped the blanket back around her daughter. "No broken bones," he announced and Lucinda breathed a sigh of relief.
"I love Minnie Mouse," said Dippy, pointing to the character on Katy's pyjama top before Fraser covered it with the blanket. "I love that bow in her hair, it's sooo pretty."
"Me too," Katy half whispered a reply.
"Katy, was Uncle Jon at our house?" Lucinda was determined to get an answer. "Was it someone else? Come on, I need you to tell me. Who did this to you?"
Katy didn't respond to her mother, instead she stared helplessly at Dippy, another wave of fear washing across her pale face.
"Lucinda," began Fraser in a low voice. "May I have a word with you?"
Reluctantly, Lucinda left her daughter's side and went out into the hall with Fraser.
"Is she alright?" asked Lucinda, desperately.
"She has some slight bruising, nothing serious," explained Fraser. "From the position of the injuries, I believe the intruder grabbed her arm and she pulled away. If it's of any comfort, an adult male could easily have broken a bone in that situation, which suggests he had no intention of hurting Katy."
Lucinda nodded slowly. "So…it could have been my brother," she said quietly. "He wouldn't have hurt her deliberately. I know that. No matter what else he's done, he would never have meant to hurt her."
Fraser thought for a moment. If Jonathan Bell had shot Constable Turnbull and had since gone on the run, why would he return to his sister's house? If it had been him, he must have had a very good reason to take such a risk. As he began to formulate theories, Fraser became aware that Lucinda was staring at him. It wasn't uncommon for people to stare at him, but Lucinda's face did not display the usual look of admiration he was used to.
For the first time since she'd arrived at the Consulate, the image of Fraser in his red dress uniform had struck her. "Oh," she said and she looked him up and down. "Your…your uniform."
Fraser looked down at himself, horrified at the thought that something might be wrong. "What is it?" he asked. "Is my Sam Browne twisted? That's been happening a lot lately. I think it needs some more neatsfoot oil, it's becoming rather stiff."
"No…no, it's just that…" Lucinda was struggling to put her thoughts into words. "You're…you're a Mountie."
"Yes," nodded Fraser, a little confused.
"Well, of course I know that already," continued Lucinda, "but…but yesterday you were wearing a brown uniform."
Fraser looked down at himself again and finally realised what she meant. Yesterday, when he'd first encountered Lucinda and Katy, he had indeed been wearing his brown uniform. While still a regulation uniform, if somewhat outdated, it wasn't the most recognised look for an RCMP officer. However today, in full red serge, he epitomised the image of a Mountie.
"I'm sorry," sighed Lucinda. "But for so long that very uniform has represented everything I despise. You personify the very thing I've been working so hard to bring down and now here you are and, well, here I am and I…I don't know…I don't know what to think any more."
"But you are here," Fraser pointed out.
"I was so frightened. I just gathered Katy into my arms and ran out of the house," she explained, her voice cracking with emotion. "I didn't even put any shoes on her. Then I got into the car and started driving. I didn't know where I was going at first, but then I remembered what you did for us yesterday, even though I said all those terrible things about you and…and…"
"It's alright. I'm glad you came," he said with a smile. "We need to find out who was at your house while there's still a chance we can apprehend the intruder."
He glanced back towards the room where he could hear Dippy's voice interspersed very occasionally with one or two words from Katy. Dippy was telling her the names of all the animals she and Turnbull had ever owned and Katy commented on the ones she particularly liked. At least she's talking now, he thought. A germ of an idea popped into his head and his tongue slowly moistened his lower lip as he tried to decide if it was a good idea or not. Eventually he realised it was the only idea he had, so he had no choice but to try it. "Please wait here," he said to Lucinda and he pulled back the chair at the front desk for her to sit down. Then he went back to Katy and Dippy.
As soon as he entered the room Katy fell silent again.
"Serendipity, may I please have word?" he asked.
Dippy got up to leave, but Katy tightened her grip on the hand she was still clutching.
"It's OK, sweetie," smiled Dippy. "I'll be right back, I promise."
Reluctantly, Katy released her hand.
Fraser thought it best not to leave Katy entirely alone in the room, so he led Dippy to the corner. "You appear to have developed a rapport with her," he pointed out in a low voice.
"Does that, like, mean we've made friends?" Dippy queried. At Fraser's nod of affirmation, Dippy smiled. "She's a sweet kid," she replied. "But she's real scared."
"Indeed," agreed Fraser. "Do you…" he hesitated. "Do you think you could talk to her?"
"I am talking to her," replied Dippy with a frown.
"I realise that," replied Fraser, "but I mean specifically about what happened to her. We need information. It's very important, but you'll need to be careful. Her emotional state is very delicate."
"Oh you mean you want me to interrogate her?" replied Dippy, excitement welling up inside her.
"She's not a suspect," Fraser pointed out. "It would be more akin to interviewing a witness. You are the only one she is responding to at the moment. Do you think you can do this?"
"Oh, sure," nodded Dippy enthusiastically. "I'm great with kids. One time these two kids wound up at our place in a storm and Ren and me, like, looked after them for a while. We played games and baked cookies and it was totally the most fun ever. Well, until they locked Ren in a closet."
"Dippy…"
"I guess it was funny when you look back now, but Ren was kinda mad, even though it was his idea to get in the closet in the first place because they were, like, playing hide and seek, but he didn't know they were gonna lock him in and eat all the cookies. He wasn't really mad, I guess, just kinda…"
"Dippy, time is of the essence," said Fraser, trying to keep the frustration out of his voice.
"OK, right," nodded Dippy seriously.
Doubt washed over Fraser as he envisioned Dippy talking about cupcakes and kittens for the next two hours.
"Now just remember, don't push her too far too fast," said Fraser. "She has been through a traumatic experience. I would suggest you start by…"
"Fraser, I can do this," Dippy interrupted him. "I know how to talk to kids. You can trust me."
Fraser looked her in the eye and was surprised by the determination he saw. For the first time since she'd breezed into their lives a few days ago, full of energy and childlike wonder, he realised that he could indeed trust her with an important task like this one. "I'll be out in the hall with Lucinda if you need me," he said and left the room, pausing for a brief moment to glance over his shoulder as Dippy sat down next to Katy and took her hand again. He nodded to himself. This might actually work.
