Great to hear from you again, Nutmeg9cat! Having an 'active listener' makes telling the story much more worthwhile. I'm interested to see what you'll think of the way this chapter goes.

Chapter Twenty-nine: Convince Me

Court proceedings bore the hell out of me, especially when I'm not needed for most of it. And being so bored and having Stella in my line of vision is not a good mix. Had to make myself not stare.

As lead detective on the case, Ray gave our prisoners' indictments to the judge, who asked about the the request for leniency. He explained that Tate and Tanner were cooperating with us in pursuing the men who had hired them, and Stella gave the District Attorney's Office's position. Etc, etc.

The courtroom wasn't real full. [Very full. Happy, Fraser?] I hoped that meant it wouldn't take too long to get through all the charges the judge had to hear that day.

We finally broke for lunch, and me, Ray, Fraser, Franny and Stella all ended up in the same diner. I left my mom's lunch in the car and told Fraser I'd eat it later, so he wouldn't lecture me about being wasteful and ungrateful. He and Ray sat at the end of our table. Franny hung back like she wasn't sure who to sit by, so I sat beside Fraser and Stella sat across from me. Franny slid in next to Stella.

"Things are going pretty good," Ray said while a server passed us glasses of water. "We made good on our deals, our guys' bail isn't too high, so they should be able to stay out on parole between now and trial time. That should keep 'em happy."

"You think they'll keep out of trouble?" Stella asked.

"Well, the one seems like a pretty good kid, and the other... we know his mommy." He snickered.

"Let's hope things go as well with the bigger fish."

"Yeah... I'm sure they'll have brought their lawyers. It could be tricky."

Franny and I didn't contribute much to the conversation. I was feeling awkward sitting across from Stella, and I think Franny was sick of the case.

We placed our orders and after twenty minutes or so, the first ones came out. A few minutes after that, we were all eating, and we talked less. I guess that didn't keep Stella from noticing I was avoiding looking at her, though.

"Ray?"

I glanced up to make sure she was talking to me. "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

I nodded.

"How's your hand?"

I smirked a little. "Uh... not bad. A little sore."

She nodded and looked back at her food.

"Thanks for asking," I added.

As Ray predicted, Passero and De Luca had brought along some pretty sharp lawyers. They did their best to make it sound like we'd fabricated all of our evidence and not produced enough of it. They questioned Tate and Tanner's credibility, saying that they were likely accusing their clients in order to protect the "real instigators" of the crime. In spite of protests from both Ray and Stella, and a pretty good speech from Welsh, the judge still told them that they could use the time between the arraignment and trial to look for new evidence to clear their clients, or to warrant an investigation into our conduct. We'd come to the right conclusions, and mostly via the right methods, but I knew if they found out I'd hit one of the witnesses, that would be seriously bad news.

We had a brief meeting back at Welsh's office. He made sure we all knew what was going on, and to watch out for anyone we didn't know at the station who was asking too many questions, including people we brought in on new charges. Anyone could be a spy.

He told Stella and Franny they could go and then told me, "This time away from your badge and gun, Kowalski... Since as far as we're concerned, Tate didn't resist arrest, and as far as he's concerned, you didn't assault him, I'm going to call your time off 'sick leave.' Got it?"

"Yes, sir."

"I recommend you go ahead and cut today short. Start your vacation now and it'll be well behind you by the time Passero and De Luca come up for trial. It'll also make it harder for those legal weasels to find fault with your work if you're not working."

"You don't think the, uh... 'weasels' will smell a rat?"

"They might, but just make sure there isn't one for them to find."

I nodded, resigned to my fate. "I'll try to keep my cell close in case you need something from me."

"Do that."

Fraser left the office with me.

"So, back to the consulate, or home, good buddy?" I asked him.

He started to answer but paused, looking at Francesca, who was rubbing her hands together at her desk. He walked over to her. "Are you all right?" he asked kindly.

"Yeah," she answered. "It's just the air conditioning blows right in front of my desk and my hands get cold on the keyboard."

"Perhaps a pair of thin or fingerless gloves might help."

"Yeah, maybe."

He smiled and walked back over to me.

"So, which is it?" I asked.

"I'd prefer fingerless, with a flap that can be put over the fingers in case of..."

"No, no! Not the gloves. The consulate, or home?"

He kind of stared through me, and it weirded me out. "Fraser?"

"She would need to be kept warm..."

"What? Who?"

He started walking, and I, of course, followed him. "Who, Fraser? What are you talking about?"

"The grave, Ray. The unnamed Inuit woman. I figured out what was wrong with it."

"Okay, so what was wrong with it?"

"The days were getting longer, so sunset was still a good way off, but the sun was slightly behind me as I faced the grave... The white stone faced north."

"Okay... so, was it different? Between your dream and what you saw when we were there?"

"No, they were just the same. But I didn't realize anything was amiss until the dream reminded me. The stone marks the head of the grave. It faced north."

"What's wrong with that? It makes sense."

He shook his head emphatically. "The Inuit don't bury their women facing north, Ray. Not the ones who lived there at the time those graves were made, anyway. Since missionaries brought the English language and Christian customs to the Inuit, much of their traditional culture has fallen by the wayside..."

"Okay, enough with the history lesson. Focus. Why wouldn't they have buried her facing north?"

"Because women get cold more easily than men. They would have wanted the Southern sun to face her, to keep her warm longer."

"But she's dead! What difference does it make?"

"I assure you, to an Inuit of the time, it would make a good deal of difference."

"Okay, so maybe they forgot over time... like you said, English-speaker customs and stuff. Or maybe they said it was a woman because they thought the tourists would like it better."

"I suspect that's exactly right, Ray. By the time no one remembered exactly who was in the grave, they decided to invent a legend to please the few tourists who came to the region." He pushed open the outer door and we stepped outside. "We have to go back."

I stopped walking. "What? Are you unhinged?!"

"I assure you, I'm not."

"Why the hell do we have to go back just to tell the folks of Gjoa Haven that they have some dishonest, profiteering Inuit living on their outskirts? What with the high homicide rate, I don't think they'll find it all that urgent. A postcard will probably be enough... 'Hey, guess what? The "unnamed Inuit" is actually a dude, not a chick...'" Fraser was almost to my car now, across the lot. "Fraser!" I shouted, irritated that he'd walked on while I was talking to him.

The GTO was locked, so at least he couldn't get in before I got there. I shot him a dirty look. "What's the big deal?"

"It's not just that he's male, Ray. He may not even be Inuit."

We got into the car.

"So, what... you think someone may have hidden their murder victim there?" I asked, starting to take him more seriously.

"Perhaps. Or, if the grave is as old as they claim, someone may have buried John Franklin there."

I had been about to put the car in gear, but I stopped when he said that. "Whoa... that's a stretch, isn't it? I mean, so it's not who they say it is... that doesn't mean it's the one guy from all of history that we were looking for. Besides, the grave is way far on the other side of the town. Why would they carry him so far from the ship just to bury him?"

"For one thing, the ships anchored on the northwest side of the island, nowhere near present-day Gjoa Haven. And I can think of a good reason they'd have taken his body along when they abandoned the ship."

"Ugh, don't tell me... they wanted to save him for a snack."

"Well, there is strong evidence that members of the party did eat one another."

"That is so gross."

"But I was considering the possibility that they hoped to return his remains to his wife, who was very devoted to him."

"Okay, so, say you're right. They took him along, either for trail mix, or to to take him back to civilization... once they found the locals, why didn't they get some help?"

"Gjoa Haven wasn't yet established, and unlike its founder, Roald Amundsen, Franklin's crew were less willing to ask for help from a people they considered too primitive with whom to associate."

"So, they'd rather starve and freeze to death than say, 'Hey! You know how to keep from starving and freezing to death?'"

"I'm afraid so."

"Trust the British to be stuck-up to the bitter end."

"It's really not fair to judge an entire nationality by one nineteenth-century exploration party, Ray. Besides, their judgment was likely hindered by lead poisoning and scurvy."

"But how would Franklin end up being re-christened 'the unnamed Inuit woman'? And why?"

"Please, start for the consulate. We can discuss this on the way. We need to pick up Dief and then get packed as soon as possible."

"Packed?"

"Haven't you heard what I've been saying?"

"Yeah, but... we can't just up and leave—again."

"Why not? You're on sick leave; I have vacation time coming."

My head was reeling. Deep down, something was stirring in me... a spark of excitement. I tried to stamp it out. "But my parents would kill me... they just found out I'm back in town."

"I'm sure that they'll understand, given the circumstances." He's such an optimist.

I thought about Franny. "But I promised this friend of mine that I'd help them with something... I can't leave right now."

"I can help you do whatever it is... I'm sure the three of us can take care of it quickly and we can be on our way." There was the optimism again.

"It's not really that kind of a thing. I can't."

"Perhaps you could help your friend when we come back."

"Fraser, I can't."

He got quiet and I put the car in gear. I'd driven a couple of blocks when he said, "I don't want to go without you..."

"I don't want you to go without me, either." I stopped at a red light and took the opportunity to close my eyes for a few seconds. I was tired and my emotions had been all over the place today. I sighed and opened my eyes. "Look... suppose you convince me we have reason to believe Franklin might be in the grave. And suppose I work something out with my friend. You think the Netsilik are gonna let us wreck their tourist attraction? Or that the Gjoa Haven officials are gonna be happy about us digging up a grave on their turf?"

"Depending on the outcome of the exhumation, the tourist attraction might become even more lucrative due to the discovery. As for the officials, I would make a request through the proper channels. With good fortune, it might be granted by the time we got there."

I wrestled with the idea for a while. "It's so cold up there..."

"But we're coming into summer, so the days will be longer."

"Whoop-dee-doo. So, it'll be thirty degrees instead of twenty."

"In Fahrenheit, perhaps," Fraser muttered.

"I heard that."

"We managed last time."

"My fingers started to turn blue. I thought I was going to lose them."

"But you didn't."

I pulled up in front of the consulate. No, I hadn't lost any fingers or toes, thank god. And thank Fraser... he'd kept me from losing them to frostbite. And I was sure he could take care of me in those conditions again. But that didn't make it sound like a nice vacation. Still... what if he was right? What if that really was Franklin buried there, and we didn't go because I didn't feel like it? I would wonder for the rest of my life.

"Go get your wolf," I said. "And then... convince me."

His reasoning was OK, but he didn't have proof. Anyone could have been in that grave—or no one. And part of me thought if we went back up there, Fraser's dream would come true, and I'd end up being the one in the grave. But another part of me was starting to die of curiosity. I couldn't let it go.

"Let me talk to that friend I mentioned," I said. "I'll call 'em tonight and we'll see. I'm not promising."

"I understand."

"And even if that works out, I still gotta figure out what to tell my parents."

"I can explain my theory to them, if you think it would help."

"Uh... maybe. But I do want you to be there when I tell them. If we do go."

"Then I will be."

At least I wouldn't have to face that alone. If Fraser was the one explaining things, maybe my dad would blame him and not yell at me so much.

We got home and split up. I went to the landline and dialed Francesca's extension at the station. I knew Fraser was sure to be packing. Not that he had much to pack. He always traveled light.

"Twenty-seventh precinct, Francesca speaking."

"Franny, it's Ray."

"Hey. What's going on?"

"Nothing. Well... maybe something." I suddenly realized I had no idea how to explain this. "This is gonna sound crazy, but Fraser had this idea about one of those places we visited in the Arctic Circle... an island off the coast of Canada. Long story short, he has a new hunch about where the grave of John Franklin might be."

"Really? That's cool..."

"Yeah, except he wants to go check it out."

"What—now?"

"As soon as we can get away."

"You'd be going, too? Again?"

"I know, I know. It's just that... we started that adventure together, and we need to finish it together. I can't explain..."

"I get it. It's a Lone Ranger and Pronto thing."

"Tonto."

"Pronto, Tonto, Ianto... what's the difference?"

I shook my head. "I don't know, but yeah. Some'n like that. The point is... I know I promised to help you with your self-defense class, and I want to do that. I'm just not sure... I mean, Fraser wants to leave ASAP, so..."

"How long would you be gone?"

"I'm not sure. Hopefully not more than two weeks, 'cause that's how long Welsh gave me."

"Yeah... if you're late getting back, he'll blow a gasket. You were gone so long last time..."

"Right. So, I hope not longer than that. If you wanna come to my place tonight, I could at least get an idea of where you're at and give you something to work on while I'm gone."

"Um... Gee, this is really..."

"Sudden. I know," I said, plenty of regret in my voice. "I'm sorry."

She lowered her voice. "Well, is your place the only place available...?"

"Unless you know someplace better. I guess we could go to the gym where I work out sometimes..."

"No, I don't want to risk someone I know seeing me. I guess I can go to your place."

"It's actually clean right now. And Fraser's across the hall, so you know it's a hundred percent safe."

"Okay, but I don't want Fraser to know I'm there, either."

"I'll try, but I can't guarantee he won't figure it out. I mean... he might smell you in the air or something."

She laughed quietly. "I wouldn't put it past him. I guess if he does figure it out, it won't be so bad to just tell him the truth. Just make sure he won't tell anyone else."

"Will do."

"Okay. Should I eat before I come?"

I glanced at the clock. It was a little after four. She'd be clocking off in an hour or so. "Uh..." Don't try to treat this like a date. She made it clear she doesn't want that. "If you think you'll get hungry, yeah. But I doubt we'll need more than an hour."

"'Kay. I'll probably just eat something light."

"Sounds good. I'll see you later."

I realized as I hung up that I was planning as if we were definitely going. That was crazy. I'd just gotten out of the freeze-dried North, and now I was going back? How does Fraser do this to me?

I bet you didn't see that coming. Now you know how I felt. ~Ray K.