CHAPTER 10

"Hmmm, I see," Fraser held the telephone receive tightly to his ear with his shoulder and scribbled down some notes on a piece of paper. "So the body lay undiscovered for several weeks?" He listened to the reply. "Hmmm," he said again. "The cause of death was recorded as unknown...I know you don't like to do that Mort...what about tissue samples?"

Fraser could hear Mort shuffling through the autopsy report. He knew that with the state of decomposition of Barbara Letz's body, the chances of obtaining any useful blood or tissue samples for laboratory testing was slim. "Oh, so you were able to test for some things? That's promising...and were the samples kept?" As Mort answered, Fraser began to allow himself a small amount of hope that they would be able to find traces of the same date rape drug that Josh Reitman had used on Lisa. So far there was absolutely no evidence that he was responsible for the death of Miss Letz, only the suspicions of her friend at the club where they worked, but if they could get something from the autopsy then Reitman would be facing a murder charge too. "Yes, of course, I'm sorry, of course it's standard procedure in an unexplained death," Fraser did know that, but they hadn't had a lot of luck so far in this case, so he'd half been expecting bad news. "If you could arrange the additional tests please Mort, I would be most grateful." Fraser nodded as Mort, naturally, agreed to do so.

Then Fraser smiled a broad smile. "No of course I haven't forgotten," he said, "I'm looking forward to it immensely. In my opinion, Verdi's Otello exudes far more emotion when sung in the original Italian than when translated into any other language. I once saw a performance by the Tuktoyuktuk Amateur Operatic, Ballet and Circus Skills Society which was sung part in English and part in Inukitut and I have to say, it was utterly devoid of..." he paused as he thought of a suitable word. He finally decided on... "passion." He cleared his throat as a word he rarely used left his lips. He refocused his mind back to apprehending Josh Reitman. "Well, thank you kindly for your assistance," he said and put the receiver back in its place, sitting back in his chair and stroking Diefenbaker on the head absentmindedly.

"Constable," Inspector Thatcher's voice startled him somewhat. He'd been aware of her presence outside his office for the past three seconds, but had assumed she was busy with something. "Who were you talking to?" she demanded to know.

Fraser leapt to his feet and stood to attention. He'd obviously done something to upset her, but he knew he hadn't been late submitting any reports so he wasn't sure what it was this time. "Sir?" he queried. He wasn't sure if he'd understood her question.

"Just now, on the telephone," snapped the Inspector. "Was it someone you met last night?"

"Um..." Fraser was very confused now. He cleared his throat and tried to tell her that he had been talking to Mort, but he got so tongue tied around her sometimes, especially when she was in one of these moods, that the words simply wouldn't come out. "Um, last night...er, no..." he eventually spluttered out, scratching at his eyebrow rapidly with his thumbnail.

"I know you went to some sort of nightclub," the Inspector sighed, "Turnbull told me, he said you and Detective Vecchio were going out for the evening. Now of course you can do whatever you like in your private life Constable, but when you're spending work time on the telephone to some girl you met at a club..." she stopped talking and stared at the floor, her heart pounding. If only their relationship wasn't so awkward, she thought, if only she wasn't his superior officer then he wouldn't have had to resort to picking up girls in clubs. Perhaps she should kiss him again now? Perhaps it wasn't too late? Perhaps...

"Sir, I was talking to Mort about an autopsy," Fraser had finally found his voice.

"Mort?" she swallowed hard. "An autopsy?" The last word came out as more of a squeak. She took a deep breath, realising that she'd made a terrible mistake. "But you said...you were talking about...about passion?"

Fraser thought for a moment and replayed the conversation in his head. "Oh," he said, as he began to see how this misunderstanding had arisen, "I was talking about Otello." Inspector Thatcher wore a puzzled look. "The opera," Fraser explained. "Mort and I have tickets for next Thursday."

"Oh," she said quietly, wishing that Turnbull would come rushing in at that very moment with an urgent Consular matter that required her immediate attention...such as they'd run out of paper clips, or someone was on the telephone asking for directions to the library. Turnbull did not appear.

"I was out last evening with Detective Vecchio," Fraser continued, feeling that he had to explain himself, although he was not entirely sure why, "but we were not visiting the establishments for leisure purposes, we had reason to believe we may uncover some information leading to the whereabouts of a fugitive."

"Oh," Thatcher's voice was a little stronger now, "and did you? Uncover some information I mean."

"Yes Sir, we did," replied Fraser, "in fact I was on the telephone to Mort following up on a lead which suggests that the man may, in fact, have committed a murder."

"I see," the Inspector had finally pulled herself together, well almost. "In that case, you'd better get on with it. Dismissed."

"This is my office, Sir," said Fraser quietly.

Inspector Thatcher held her breath for a moment. She still wasn't thinking clearly. "Of course it is," she said, letting her breath go all at once, "what I meant to say...what I meant to say, was...was that, um, that I was just leaving." With that she turned on her heels and half ran out of the door. Fraser looked down at Dief and shrugged. Some women were a total mystery to him.

xXx

Ray squeezed Jessica's hand before reluctantly letting it go and knocking on the door of Mikey's hospital room. He could already see through the tiny window that Brett was still sitting by his bedside, in almost the same position as he had been for the past few days. Ray slowly opened the door. "Hi," he said quietly and Brett forced a small smile. "Um, how is he this morning?" asked Ray.

"He was awake again earlier," Brett's smile grew a little. "Not for long and he recognised me again, but...you know, the doctors are still telling me that this is all to be expected and I just have to give him time..." his voice trailed off. He was clearly finding all of this incredibly difficult, which was completely understandable. The poor guy's whole world had been turned upside down, Ray really felt for him. A nurse bustled her way into the room and started to note down some readings from the machines that were supporting Mikey's injured body.

"Look, er, I know this is not a good time," said Ray, "but, er, I gotta ask ya a few more questions about your brother. We should go somewhere more private."

Brett nodded. "Sure," he said. He got up from chair and kissed his son on the forehead, then followed Ray and Jessica out of the room.

"Where's Lisa?" asked Jessica as she opened the door of the side room she often used.

"She was in a lot of pain this morning," explained Brett as he took a seat in the room, "they think one of her kidneys might have been bruised or something yesterday, y'know, when..." his voice cracked as he thought of what his brother had done. "She's having a scan now."

"I see," replied Jessica, glancing at Ray. She went to the water cooler in the corner and filled a plastic cup with water for Brett.

"Thanks," he said quietly, taking the cup from her and sipping at it. "I'm guessing you haven't found him yet?"

"Er, no," replied Ray, apologetically, "but there are people out lookin' for him, we'll find him, don't worry." Brett nodded slowly. "Look, I'm real sorry to have to tell ya this," continued Ray, "but, er, we think Josh may have been involved in a homicide. Can ya think back a few weeks, two or three months maybe, was he actin' weird at all. Quiet perhaps, out of character, y'know?"

Brett's face had gone very pale. "Oh god," he half whispered. "Um, I guess, I mean, I don't know really? He was taking a lot of drugs and drinking...he kinda hasn't done that so much in the last few weeks? Maybe I...if I'd said something to him...or done something...did he really kill someone?" Brett brought a hand to his mouth, he felt sick now.

"We don't know anything for certain at the moment," Jessica said, encouragingly, "Fraser's looking into a few details now." Brett looked at her, his eyes said all that needed to be said. "I'm so sorry," she added.

"We were thinkin'," began Ray, eager to get as much information out of him as he could before the poor guy completely lost it, "he probably needs to get money, d'ya know if he has savings?"

Brett shook his head. "He's got nothing. He's never really had a proper job and any money he gets just goes...drugs I guess. Dad bought him the apartment, it was the only time our Dad ever spent money on him. It was just after Mum died, I guess he thought maybe if Josh had a secure roof over his head, he'd sort himself out or something? I know Dad cut Josh out of his will after that. He's basically disowned him." Brett bowed his head, sadly. He loved his father, but perhaps his attitude since their mother had died hadn't helped the situation.

"Are things that bad between him and your Dad?" asked Jessica, putting a supportive hand on his back.

"Yes," replied Brett quietly. "Josh has always been in some sort of trouble, ever since we were kids. He was always the smallest kid in the neighbourhood, but he was the one who was at the centre of everything. He could talk his way out of most of it though, he'd blame anyone and everyone and that really didn't make him popular with the other kids. Either that or he'd just run. He's got some speed for a little guy, you'd turn around and he'd gone. He often got away with it too, but my folks knew, they knew what he was like and a couple of times my Dad dragged him down to the cops to own up. Josh never learnt though, I guess my Dad's just had enough. He's already told me that I get everything when he dies. I told him I didn't want his money."

"Why?" asked Ray.

"Because I think Josh deserves his share. My Dad made a lot of money in the Seventies, he had his own construction company, built it up from nothing and we didn't get to see him too much, he was always working, y'know. So I figured that the money should be split equally between the two of us. Maybe if he had money, Josh wouldn't be like this? If his life wasn't such a struggle, maybe if he was rich, perhaps he wouldn't feel like he needed to take drugs?"

"Or maybe he'd just be a rich crack head?" suggested Ray, flippantly. Jessica shot him a look, Ray needed to maintain a level of sympathy for Brett, despite his brother's actions. Ray felt a little guilty for saying that.

Brett shrugged. "You're probably right. After all this I just...I just don't know any more? Why has he done all of this?" Brett closed his eyes again and thought about everything that had happened. He'd spent most of his life defending his brother. Defending him from his Dad, from schoolyard bullies, from debt collectors and various dodgy types who'd demanded money that they said Josh owed them for drugs, or gambling or whatever it was. He wasn't going to do that anymore. Not now. This time Josh had hurt the people he loved, his wife and son and maybe he was even a murderer too? This had gone too far. Suddenly it all became too much for Brett and he broke down, sobbing into his hands.

"It's OK," Jessica tried to soothe him, "they're going to find him and then he'll get the help he needs."

"Help?" Brett queried and Ray was just as confused. What possible help could anyone offer a murderer? Brett shuddered at the thought of what his brother's fate might be.

Jessica glanced at Ray. "Look, I know he's done some terrible things," she began, touching the side of her head tenderly. The bruising and swelling had gone down a little since yesterday, but she wasn't going to forget what he'd done to her in a hurry. "It's just that we did talk for a short time yesterday and...well I'm not an expert or anything, my degree's in child psychology, but from what he was saying and from his behaviour, I would say that he's ill, mentally ill I mean. He's not a psychopath or anything, I don't mean that at all, but he has a recognisable pattern of behaviour that would suggest more than one diagnosable condition. With the right treatment, drug rehabilitation and the right medication and therapy, maybe there's a different personality underneath, someone just needs to help him find the real Josh."

Brett took in everything she said, he really hoped she was right. He had no idea what was going to happen now, but he saw a glimmer of hope in the things Jessica was saying.

Ray was quite stunned by her empathy too. He just wanted to see the guy locked up, face a jury and then get whatever sentence he deserved. It never really occurred to him that maybe the bastard needed anyone's help? "Er, I've seen a lot of, um..." he tried to think of a word that wasn't derogatory. "Criminals," he said eventually, using one of Fraser's favourites, "and I guess Jess is right."

Brett nodded slowly. He looked up at Ray and wiped his face with the back of his hand. "Please find him," he begged, "please, while there's still a chance for him. He's my brother, I love him, I can't help it and I know that sounds dumb after what he's done, but it's true."

Ray thought for a moment. He considered Fraser to be his brother and he couldn't imagine how he'd feel if Fraser ever let him down like this, if he ever betrayed him in this way. Of course he could never imagine Fraser doing anything as bad as the things Josh Reitman had done, but what if he did something else? Would he still love and stand by his brother the way Brett Reitman was standing by Josh? This was stupid of course, he was talking about Benton Fraser and there's no way he would do anything...oh, but what about that Metcalfe woman? What about everything that had happened with her? Fraser had done some really stupid things then and he'd let Ray Vecchio down badly, the real Vecchio that is and they were as close as brothers, just like he and Fraser were. Ray didn't know how he would have coped if Fraser had done those things to him and his family. Vecchio had stood by him and loved him hadn't he and then helped him get his life back together and they'd stayed as close as they were before. Ray couldn't be sure if he'd do the same? He hoped he could, but he wasn't sure if he'd be able to...god he didn't want to think about this anymore, he didn't want to believe that the real Vecchio was stronger than he was. He should be grateful to Vecchio for everything he'd done for Fraser at that time, but instead he was...what...jealous? This was stupid. Fraser was always telling him that he considered both of his best friends to be equals, but Ray truly believed that wasn't really the case. If Fraser was ever forced to choose between them, Ray felt sure he'd choose the real Vecchio...wouldn't he? Suddenly he wished Fraser was here right now so they could talk about this, he could feel his emotions welling up and he couldn't afford to do this now, he had to focus on this case and the Reitman family. He had to be a cop. He took a deep breath. "I'll do everythin' I can," he said earnestly.

Brett got to his feet and they headed back to Mikey's hospital room. Jessica took Ray's hand again as they walked the short distance along the corridor. "Everything alright?" she whispered in his ear.

Of course she'd noticed him being stupid just now, thought Ray. Already she could read him like a book and he thought it was just Fraser who could do that...he'd figured it was a Mountie skill or maybe some kind of Canadian thing. Was he that open to everyone? Maybe just to the people who care about me, he thought to himself and a warm smile spread across his face. "Yeah, I'm fine," he replied in a quiet voice, "this case is, er, it's gettin' to me I think. The kid, the brother, it's all so, um, it's such a big mess and I'm not sure how it can ever end good for all of them, y'know?"

Jessica nodded. "I agree," she replied, sadly. "I can't wait until it's all over and they can start to look forward to the future."

Ray tugged at her hand and she stopped walking. He spun her round and looked deep into her eyes. "I can't wait until it's over either," he said, then he lowered his voice even more and leaned in close so she should hear him, "then we can spend some time together...alone. Is that selfish of me or somethin'?"

Jessica glanced over her shoulder and, seeing that Brett had disappeared back into Mikey's room, she stole a quick kiss from his lips. "That sounds wonderful," she smiled.

Just then, Lisa appeared from around the corner. She was being wheeled along in a wheelchair by a tall sour faced nurse. Jeez, thought Ray, why can't nurses be how he remembered them from when he had his tonsils out. He'd only been eight or nine, but he remembered the nurses being caring and loving, like his favourite Aunt, or a friend's Mom. They would wipe away your tears if you woke up crying or fetch you another jelly roll if you asked nicely enough, as long as one of the doctors didn't see of course.

Lisa didn't look well at all and had a drip in her arm. Her skin looks weird, thought Ray, yellowish, or something. "Hey baby," Brett leaned over and kissed his wife. "Are you OK?"

"She's meant to be resting," explained the nurse abruptly, "there is some damage to one of her kidneys so it's not functioning fully at the moment, but it's nothing that won't heal. She insisted on coming back here though."

Brett almost broke down again. His wife looked dreadful and it was all his brother's fault.

"I want to be here," said Lisa defiantly.

The nurse huffed. "Press the buzzer if you need anything," she snapped, heading for the door. Ray took that to mean...'Don't bother pressing the buzzer because you're way down my list of priorities now.' Greatness. He sneered at the back of her head as she left.

Brett wasn't really paying attention to the nurse at all. "The cops were asking if Josh had access to any money anywhere," he explained to his wife, deciding not to mention anything about his brother being wanted for a murder. "They figure he's going to need cash soon enough, but I know he hasn't got any savings. I guess I should talk to Dad, just in case he tries anything stupid. I haven't called my Dad yet..." Brett looked at Jessica for some support, he really felt like he was going to lose it again and he knew he had to stay strong in front of Lisa.

"It's going to be a difficult conversation," Jessica said sympathetically and Brett nodded.

"You don't think he'd go after Mikey's trust fund?" said Lisa in a shaky voice. Brett went stony silent.

"What trust fund?" prompted Ray.

"My Dad set up an account for Mikey, he gets the money when he's twenty one, I think there's about thirty five thousand dollars in there," explained Brett, "but no one can access it without the account book and additional ID. All the paperwork's locked away at home...I mean, at Lisa's house."

Ray and Jessica exchanged a look. "Maybe that was why he was at the house yesterday?" suggested Jessica, mild panic creeping into her voice.

Ray nodded. It made sense, it was a stupid place to go unless he had a very good reason. "So, er, maybe he'll try again?" Ray was thinking out loud. "So the, er, the bank book's at the house and what about ID, could he try to pass himself off as you Brett?"

Brett thought for a moment. "My passport's still at the house," he said, "if he found that, then I guess he could forge my signature too and get the money that way? I don't know?" Brett could feel his heard starting to beat faster now. That money was for Mikey. His Dad put a few thousand dollars in there every birthday, Mikey was his only grandchild. Could my brother really stoop that low, Brett contemplated. Of course he could, Brett closed his eyes, he's done all these other terrible things.

"OK, there's still a patrol in the neighbourhood," said Ray urgently, "but we should probably get back there, in case he shows up again. I'll call Fraser." Ray pulled his phone from his pocket and rang the number for the Canadian Consulate.