Disclaimer - Don't own / Don't make money / Would settle for a chorus of serenading Mounties.

Chapter 8 - Don't Get Mad, Get Judicial

Benton had a troubled night. His shoulder was bothering him, and every time he got in a position that was comfortable for it, his ribs would start off twinging. Turnbull had set up a cot in the corridor but Benton didn't want his sort of fussing. He just wanted to sleep, and when he couldn't, he turned on a lamp and spent the hours reading the files that Ray had left with him.

True to his word, Ray showed up bright and early the next morning, Officer McNeely and a half dozen glazed donuts in tow. He ordered McNeely to guard the front door. After what he'd put together digging through the records, he was concerned that the person who'd ordered Fraser's killing, and who'd masterminded Gracie De Angelis's death must now be getting panicky as his time was running out.

Ray slipped a strawberry glazed donut to Diefenbaker and sat beside his increasingly bored and restless looking partner, who was still, as ordered, stuck in bed.

"I'm not staying for long." Ray said. "It took Elaine a bit of digging on the computer but we hit the jackpot! We busted this one wide open." He bit into a donut, leaving Benton in agonized suspense.

"And?" Benton said as Ray chewed.

"Ten years ago, Thomas and Lewis were both working for that construction company on that skyscraper project. Well, looks like Gantz, working for Mack, was managing one of the other crews working on it, there were several companies involved over the span of the building for one reason or another."

Benton sat up a little straighter. "Who owned the major construction company that employed Thomas and Lewis?" he asked.

"That's where things get interesting, Benny. See, the operative word is 'owned'. The firm was owned by a Pierre Ward. But a few years ago he retired and he split the company up. Ask me who he sold the subsidiary that Thomas and Lewis worked for to."

Benton winced slightly at the horrible sentence construction before he asked, "To whom did Ward sell the subsidiary, Ray?"

"Get this - his own son. Didn't give it to him, made him get financing. The son is not such a genius businessman as his Dad and has nearly run it into the ground. Now, right now he's bidding against both Mack and De Angelis for a major lakeside development. One of the companies that financed Junior Ward's little venture sounded familiar to me. I made a couple of calls to the boys in New York. Guess who's backing Ward?"

Benton didn't have to guess. It fit together, the low level mob soldiers in the van, the attempt to fire up a gang war between his rivals for the building contract. "Well, that would explain why an otherwise legitimate businessman would risk murdering the sister of a powerful criminal. He may have felt that he had no other option to save his own life from his creditors."

He looked puzzled. "One thing I don't understand though, is why Thomas and Lewis would also risk being involved in the scheme. We know they worked with the younger Mr. Ward in the past, if I assume correctly that the younger Ward ran the subsidiary before the older Ward retired, but there must be more than loyalty from a building site. Neither of them have more than petty assaults and thefts on their criminal records."

"Yeah, Rocco Ward was in charge on that project, according to the records." Ray said. "I guess whatever hold he had over Thomas and Lewis must have been pretty strong for them not only to risk murder but try to kill a cop." His face was twisted into an ugly scowl at the thought.

"Perhaps they thought the crime would be considered less serious because I'm not-"

Ray just couldn't stand to hear Benton talk so calmly about the pre-meditated and violent attempt on his life. He stood up abruptly and walked over to the window. "God, Benny. They must have gone over to your building as soon as we released Gantz. Ward must have ordered it without a second thought. I'm gonna kill him."

"Ray, that's not necessary. I'd rather see justice done." Benton said quietly.

Ray shook his head. "Far as I'm concerned, the jerk is asking for it."

"He's not worth it, Ray."

Ray didn't reply. He was on the verge of getting angry again, furious because Benton didn't seem to care about what these men had done to him. Ray felt like he had to carry Benton's anger for him, and he needed to hear that Benton was not just okay with having been used as a convenient punching bag.

Benton could see Ray getting physically tense, his neck scrunching down and shoulders rising up, moving into fight-or-flight mode. "How can you do it, Benny, how can you just lie there and act like it doesn't matter what they did to you?"

"Ray." he said softly. "I'm not... It's not that I'm... well, there has to be a judicial system, and I have to allow it to deal with the men who assaulted me, even more so than with other criminals we've caught. I'm afraid, Ray. If I let myself feel... if I don't deal with them dispassionately, I don't doubt that I have a capacity for... well, I'm afraid I could become the very evil that I am supposed to be fighting." Ray could hear a plea for reassurance in his words.

Ray turned around. "Benny, you could never be a heartless bastard like the guy who ordered at least three hits to save his hide. You don't have that in you."

"I don't know what I have in me, Ray. I never learned to express negative emotions particularly well. You are making an erroneous assumption if you think I don't feel at least as strongly about these men as you do. It scares me."

Ray heard the slightest tremor in Benton's voice that shouldn't be there, that would normally never be there. Benton was usually nothing if not confident of what was right and wrong, and Ray felt suddenly bad for arguing with his friend while he was clearly still struggling with his own reaction to the violence done to him. The coldness of his words scared Ray, too. Whatever hurt lay under that calm surface did not need Ray trying to stir it up, trying to rouse his friend to seek vengeance.

Ray sighed. "I'm sorry, Benny. I shouldn't take it out on you. It's just seeing you lying on the ground like they found you scared me half to death. I have a hard time understanding how you can not want to mess up whoever did that to you. I guess I kind of want you to be mad at me, too, because I feel like I let you down, I let them get you, do that to you. If you would let me hurt them, it would be like I could fix what I screwed up."

"We discussed this at the hospital. It's not your fault, Ray. I never thought it was."

Ray shoved his hands deep in his pockets. He couldn't look at Benton right now, see the earnest look, not even of forgiveness, but of the deep conviction that he had nothing to forgive Ray for. It would take time, and his partner not stifling a gasp of distress every time he had to adjust his sitting position in the bed, before he'd stop feeling guilty about inadvertently throwing Benton to the wolves.

"I guess. I guess we should just figure out how to nail this Ward if he is the guy. Top priority is a clean bust, because if I can't break his head for you, I want to throw the book at him."

The ghost of a smile touched Benton's lips. "I appreciate that, Ray. What year was Ward working at the same site as Gantz while supervising Thomas and Lewis? Perhaps there's something revelatory in Thomas's criminal record or background that might clarify why Gantz especially would do what he did."

"Eighty-six." Ray said.

"There was an incident that year." Benton said. He had spent a lot of quality time with Thomas's record during the hours of the night when he was too restless to sleep. "A man went missing at the work site and Thomas was one of the people who was questioned about it, but nothing came of the investigation. We'll have to dig deeper."

"It's something to throw at Ward and Lewis. I'm going to go pick up Ward now, bring him in for questioning."

"That sounds like a good idea, Ray. Just be careful. I wish I could come with you." Benton didn't bother to hide his frustration.

"Yeah, I wish you could too." Ray said. "But it's probably better this way for now." He wasn't sure he wanted Benton coming face to face with the man who ordered his death.

Ray left, but Fraser did not lie idle. He called in Turnbull who brought him the phone, and phoned Elaine at the station. She was pleased to hear from him.

"Fraser! How are you? Ray said you're doing better."

"I'm doing quite well, thank you, Elaine. I hope it's not too much trouble, but if you could look through some computer records for me, I think it would be helpful. I know you already did a lot of searching for Ray, but-"

Elaine's reply was warm with just the hint of scolding. "Fraser, of course I'll look. Don't you know we're doing everything we can to get these guys?"

There was a minute hesitation before Fraser replied, touched by the warmth in Elaine's voice. "Thank you, Elaine. That means a lot to me. Now, we're looking at an incident that occurred in 1986 that may be the connection between Rocco Ward, who apparently masterminded Miss De Angelis's killing, and Eric Thomas, George Lewis, and John Gantz."

He heard the sound of Elaine's fingers on the keyboard, and then a pleased "Ooh."

Between Elaine's research skills and Fraser's intuitive suggestions they quickly discovered that the missing man in 1986 had worked with Thomas and Lewis under Gantz's management, but been extremely unpopular on the job site. When he'd gone missing, witnesses had said that Thomas, Lewis and Gantz had been overheard in a bar drinking and talking about how the missing man was going to get his comeuppance.

But after he went missing, the three men had been given rock solid alibis for the night that he disappeared by Rocco Ward, who claimed that they had been doing him a favor and doing some restoration work on his large house in the suburbs. It was several years before the man's body was found.

Elaine gave a sharp intake of breath as she scrolled through the file about the missing man. "They found that he died because his neck was broken, but several other bones had been broken too. It looks like-" she hesitated.

"He was beaten to death." Fraser supplied, calmly, to Elaine's relief. "If Ward gave false information that cleared those men of their involvement in that murder, he'd certainly have a hold on them that would have lasted this long."

"It seems like he's trying to set up his own little crime syndicate." Elaine said. "Since he failed so badly at the construction business. It was a mistake to get into that much debt to the New York boys though."

"Indeed. Of course I'm sure they'd rather manipulate him to get their foot into the Chicago area than allow him, as a potential rival, to groom an organization of criminals. It must have been particularly convenient to them that he had a hold over Gantz, who was supposedly loyal to Mack."

"Instant gang war. Which, by the way, one of Mack's lieutenants was executed yesterday, we assume by De Angelis. Ray has to bring in Ward soon and stop this before it gets out of hand." Elaine said.

"I still don't understand why Gantz would confess to Miss De Angelis's murder." Fraser said, "It'd be no worse to be implicated in an old murder than confess to a new one."

"I think I have a clue." Elaine said. He heard her digging through papers on her desk. "I have Gantz's autopsy report here to be filed. While he was definitely executed, pretty certainly by De Angelis's guys, he was already dying, apparently. Cancer."

"And he knew it?" Fraser asked, excited.

"The medical examiner seemed to think that the advanced state it was, he had to have known. He had surgical scars from treatment and all. Gantz had a wife and kids. Ward could have offered a nice payoff to them if Gantz took the fall."

"That makes sense." Fraser said. He tried to stifle a yawn but couldn't hide it entirely. The sleepless night was catching up with him. Elaine's tone of voice changed immediately.

"Fraser, you sound tired. I'm going to let you go." she sounded concerned.

Fraser didn't bother arguing. They'd put together enough information to wrap up the case once Ward and Thomas were picked up, and there was no point going on while he needed sleep.

"Thank you again, Elaine. We couldn't do this without you." he said warmly. Elaine told him to concentrate on feeling better, and they hung up.

Ray Vecchio was having a bad day. Ward was not at his home or his office, and Ray was worried. Ward must know they'd arrested Lewis, that his plans had completely crumbled. He turned the Rivera back toward the consulate. If Ward had already gone on the run, then putting an all points bulletin out on him as they had for Thomas would turn him up eventually. But there was another scenario. He might still be fixated on disposing of the man who could identify all the players in his failed scheme. That thought gave Ray the chills. Ward's taste for violence had been indirect so far, but if pushed to the edge, who knew what he might do?

Benton took his assortment of pills, accepting that he needed all of them right now to get comfortable enough to sleep, and soon he was out cold. He dreamed he was lying out on the ice again, only this time far from shore, in a glittering white world, the stars above clear against a velvety blue sky, the constellations in the familiar positions of his home latitudes. He felt a deep sense of peace. Diefenbaker ran up to him, leading a pack of ghostly wolves who circled around him and pressed against him, warming him and welcoming him into the pack. He could feel the softness of their fur quite distinctly even though it was a dream. They had about them an ancient air, appearing larger than Diefenbaker, with a quality of archetype, old legends, myths of the North clinging to them. They struck Benton as being like one of the visions he had experienced when he had spent time in the sweat lodge as a younger man.

He felt a strange sensation as his body seemed to transform, growing its own thick coat of sleek grey-white fur, his senses becoming heightened, vision changing and sense of smell amplified until it was like he could taste the air around him. He stood up on four strong legs, packmates dancing around him, barking. He understood, they were saying, 'come, run, hunt' and leaving the broken human body on the bed, he ran as a wolf through the landscape that seemed less a thing of the dream world than the spirit world, following scents and stopping to nip and wrestle playfully with the other wolves.

This, alas, was interrupted by the vision of Bob Fraser approaching on a dogsled. "Wake up!" his father yelled urgently. "Wake up! The men need you!" Benton didn't know how his father recognized him, but his was not to argue with dream logic. As he felt himself slipping back into the human world with its attendant pains, he could have sworn he saw the wolf pack surrounding Bob Fraser, howling in a not entirely friendly manner. Very odd. He opened his eyes, becoming aware of a commotion toward the front of the consulate. He sat upright suddenly, gasping sharply at the motion, as he heard a gun shot. So much for promises. He had no choice but to break his word to the surgeon.

Fraser came out of the guest room and looked down the stairs. He saw Officer McNeely lying in a pool of blood on the landing, his gun beside him where it had fallen from his hand. Constable Turnbull was standing next to McNeely, pressed against the wall, white as a sheet. There was scuffling from the entrance way below. He moved cautiously down the stairs toward the landing. A shaky, nervously high pitched voice called out. "I know you're in here, mountie. I have Vecchio."

Fraser reached the landing and as the front door of the consulate came into view he saw a smallish man with a pistol held to Ray's head, one arm around Ray's neck. Fraser put the sequence of events together - obviously the shot he had heard was the man, presumably Rocco Ward, shooting McNeely. Then the scuffling - Ray putting up a resistance. But now Ray was helpless to do more with the gun against his head.

Fraser raised his hands slightly. "Mr. Ward, I presume?" he said, his eyes cold and his voice steady. "I'm going to tend to the officer who you shot." It wasn't a request, it was a statement, as he knelt by McNeely and felt for a pulse. The man was still alive, the attacker's bullet had struck him low on the body, near his hip, and he was bleeding profusely, but he wasn't in imminent danger of death. Fraser looked up at Turnbull. "Constable Turnbull, I need you to take off your jacket and use it to put pressure on Officer McNeely's wound."

He hadn't turned his back on Ward, but he was dividing his attention, reasonably confident that if Ward had intended to shoot him or Ray immediately, he'd have done it by now. Using Turnbull's shaky obedience of his order as cover, Fraser palmed McNeely's gun, and when he stood up to face Ward, stepping in front of McNeely and Turnbull, he raised it.

"Now you see, Mr. Ward, if you shoot Detective Vecchio, I will be forced to shoot you. You are standing on Canadian soil, and I will not hesitate to use this gun."

Author's Note: It's Thanksgiving here in the US, and I had the good fortune to celebrate it with my husband and a family friend. We had a sumptuous tofurkey dinner (don't laugh! It's delicious) and watched the second season of Slings & Arrows, which I will take over football any day. My husband seems unflustered by the suggestion that I'm on the verge of running away to stalk my secret Canadian boyfriend. I hope everyone else in the US had a safe and reasonably happy Thanksgiving. (And the rest of the world a marvelous Thursday/Friday!) I'm thankful for everyone who posts stories to ff . net and to my readers, and especially those who take the time to give me feedback, for giving me a safe and friendly place to stretch my artistic wings. You're all wonderful, and that's not just the chocolate and peanut butter pie speaking.

Oh yes, and sorry about the cliffhanger. I'm not bad, I'm just drawn that way. Two more chapters to go! Exciting conclusion up next, then inevitable sappy epilogue. I just can't help it!