CHAPTER 3.
"Good morning, Ray."
Ray looked up from his desk as Fraser strode into the squad room and nodded a silent acknowledgement.
"I called the house last night, but Francesca said you were already asleep," continued Fraser as he reached the desk.
"Yeah, I told her I needed an early night," replied Ray, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his hand.
"I see," Fraser answered. He removed his hat and tugged slowly at his left earlobe. "I take it you were not asleep."
Ray shrugged. "Don't remember hearing the phone," he explained, "but then I don't remember getting a lot of sleep either."
Fraser nodded understandingly. He knew Ray would have spent most of the night thinking about what had happened and whether he could have handled things differently. He also knew Ray would have come to the conclusion that he'd had no choice but to shoot. However, experience told Fraser that didn't really change how you felt.
"Do you think we'll see Ryan this morning?" Fraser pondered.
"Dunno?" Ray answered with a shrug. "Maybe he's grounded?"
"His father sounded rather upset on the telephone," agreed Fraser.
Superintendent Fitzgerald had heard about the incident on the police grapevine before Lieutenant Welsh had had chance to speak to him directly and had called in to the Two Seven himself. Welsh had taken the call in his office and Fraser and Ray had both been called in to speak to the Superintendent to explain their side of the story. To his credit, Fitzgerald had done his best to reassure Ray that the only person in trouble was Ryan. It had been during Fraser's conversation with Fitzgerald that Ryan had, apparently, returned home and the Superintendent had cut the call short.
"Maybe he'll take away his train set? Or stop his allowance?" continued Ray, facetiously.
"Ryan is an adult," Fraser reminded him. "Although I do understand what you're implying."
"That he looks like a fifteen year old and acts like a twelve year old?" Ray queried, rolling his eyes.
"Well I wouldn't go that far."
Ray shrugged again. "OK, if he does show then he's gonna hate what I've got lined up for today," he said. "Until I get my gun back I'm kinda restricted. However, Huey has very kindly invited us along on a stakeout." Ray didn't try to hide the sarcasm in his voice. He hated stakeouts. Usually it meant long hours sitting around playing cards waiting for nothing to happen.
"Sounds like fun, I wasn't sure if you'd have me back."
Ray spun round at the sound of Ryan's voice. The skinny figure stood in the doorway of the squad room with his hands in his pockets. He looked even younger than he had yesterday. His previously smart wardrobe choices replaced with a more casual look of blue jeans and a plain, green t-shirt.
Ray had to almost literally bite his tongue to stop himself yelling and Fraser eyed his friend closely, ready to step in and diffuse the situation.
"Oh don't you worry, kiddo," Ray said in a calm voice as Ryan walked towards them. "We'll have fun. Lots of fun. Although yesterday'll be hard to top."
Ryan hung his head with genuine remorse. "Look, guys, I'm sorry about yesterday," he mumbled to the floor. "I…I thought I could help."
Ray nodded slowly, his nostrils flaring with the effort he was putting into keeping calm. "Yeah, well, thanks, but next time you think you can help, do the world a favour and don't."
"I'm sure Ryan has spent some time reflecting on his actions," said Fraser. "May I suggest we draw a line under the events of yesterday?"
"Sure," agreed Ray. "I'll draw a line. A big fat line in the metaphorical ground and if you cross it, if you even think about crossing it and putting lives in danger I am through with this assignment and Daddy can find you a new babysitter. Got it?" Ray jabbed his finger in Ryan's direction.
"Yes, sir," nodded Ryan.
"Good," Ray smiled glibly at him. "Because here's the thing. Whatever you think you know about being a cop, you can forget it." Suddenly his smile faded. "No one knows what it's like to have that gun in your hand until you're out there on the street with innocent lives at stake. No one."
Fraser tensed as Ray's emotion started to boil over. "Ray, we should probably…" he began, but Ray wasn't listening.
"I don't care who your father is, I don't care if he's the Superintendent, or Superman," Ray continued, waving one hand in front of him as he spoke. "You will never, ever, pull a stunt like that again. Not today, not tomorrow and especially not when you have your shield, because if you do you'll wind up with blood on your hands."
"Ray…" Fraser thought Ray had gone too far. Throughout the whole lecture Ryan had just stared at the floor and Fraser had watched as the pulse in his neck quickened, but now he was looking directly at Ray and his expression was a confusing mix of anger, humiliation and arrogance.
"Don't you think I had all this already from my Dad last night?" he said incredulously. "I don't need you to tell me how much I screwed up yesterday, OK? I don't need any of this."
"Ryan, what Ray is trying to say…" began Fraser, hoping to save the situation, but Ryan cut him off.
"Forget it," snapped the young man. "Jeez, Vecchio, you should have just taken the money."
Ray threw his arms in the air and spun round so his back was towards Ryan. He swung a sideways look at Fraser. "Is he for real?" he asked.
"Perhaps we should head to the break room and enjoy some tea while we wait for Detective Huey to arrive?" Fraser suggested.
"I don't want tea, Fraser," snapped Ray.
"Me neither," Ryan answered. "I said I'm sorry, what more do you want from me? I don't even know why I'm here."
Ray spun round. "You're here because I guess your dad knows you pretty well."
"My dad is a…"
"Oh look, Detective Huey has arrived!" exclaimed Fraser with relief before Ryan could finish whatever insult he had in mind.
Ray scowled at Ryan. This was going to be a long day. Any other day and he would find an excuse not to go, but today he was damn well going to sit through this stakeout purely so he could watch Ryan suffer. For a moment Ray wondered if he was being vindictive. After all, Ryan was young and inexperienced, that was the whole reason his father had wanted him to spend these few days with Ray in the first place. Inexperience notwithstanding Ryan's thoughtless actions could have got him killed, not to mention getting Ray and Fraser killed in the process, or any number of innocent bystanders and Ray couldn't shake the feeling that he was not destined to be a great cop like the rest of his family. The problem was Ryan didn't seem to realise that.
xXxXxXx
"Be careful with that laptop computer, Benny," said Ray as Fraser set up the shiny new piece of equipment in the apartment they were using for the stakeout. It was in a run down building on the wrong side of town, but it was convenient and the landlord could be trusted to keep his mouth shut, for the right fee of course. "You heard Welsh, it cost a small fortune," continued Ray, looking round the sparsely furnished room as Diefenbaker made himself comfortable on a threadbare rug. "Me, I think the budget would have been better spent on good old fashioned typewriters."
"But you hate typewriters," replied Fraser with a frown.
"This is the future, Detective," said Ryan nodding towards the laptop. "Soon everyone will have access to whatever information they need, just by pressing a few keys on a keyboard. You've heard of the World Wide Web, right?"
"Course I have," replied Ray, "But a bunch of spiders are not gonna replace good old fashioned detective work, not in my lifetime."
"Spiders?" repeated Fraser with a frown. "Er, Ray, I think you may have misunderstood…" he trailed off for a second and drew his thumbnail across his left eyebrow.
Ray sneered and rolled his eyes. He decided he would wait a while longer to see if Fraser realised he was joking before explaining it to the confused Mountie. He unpacked two pairs of binoculars from their brown, leather cases and tossed one pair across the room. "Here," he said to Ryan. "Tell me if you see anything suspicious."
Ryan, taken by surprise, barely caught the binoculars, but he tried not to show it. "What am I looking for exactly?" he asked.
"You know, a guy with a fake moustache, woman pushing an empty baby carriage, a sleazebag with shifty eyes…I thought you were the expert?" replied Ray with more than a note of derision in his voice.
"Shifty eyes?" queried Ryan in disbelief. "So we're looking for cartoon bad guys now?"
Ray opened his mouth ready with a retort, but he caught sight of Fraser's look of disappointment and decided to stay quiet. Fraser crossed the room to join Ray as Ryan turned towards the window and pulled back the dusty old curtains to get a better view of the street below.
The Mountie leaned forward and whispered in his friend's ear. "You can tell me to mind my own business if you wish," he began, "but might I suggest we go a little easy on Ryan? An uncomfortable atmosphere could make for a rather long and fractious day otherwise."
Ray let out a slow breath. He knew Fraser was right, but it wasn't going to be easy. "OK, Benny," he agreed in a low voice. "I'll try, but if the kid puts one foot wrong today…" he trailed off and left Fraser to mentally complete his sentence.
"I understand," agreed Fraser with a nod and he went back to the laptop, stopping momentarily to shake his head disappointedly at Dief who had discovered the bag with Huey's supply of snacks and was munching his way through a packet of doughnut holes.
"OK, this is my case, remember?" announced Jack Huey arriving at the apartment with an armful of equipment. "I've been after Macklin for a long time now and we need this evidence."
"Are you sure he's gonna show?" asked Ray. "How much do you trust your snitch?"
Jack shrugged. "He's a snitch, Vecchio. Course I don't trust him, but he's come through for me in the past and I really wanna nail Macklin so I got no choice," he replied.
"What's this guy Macklin supposed to have done?" asked Ryan.
"He's a dealer," explained Jack. "Heroin, mostly, but we got a tip-off that he pulled the trigger on a kid we pulled outta Lake Michigan a couple months back."
"And I assume your informant is not willing to testify in court?" enquired Fraser as he connected a cable from the laptop to the telephone socket.
Jack threw back his head and laughed. "Not in this lifetime," he replied. He pulled out a radio unit from the bag he'd been carrying and switched it on. "Rover One to Rover Two," he said. "Are you receiving?"
"Loud and clear," came the reply and Jack gave his instructions to the other detective who was out in the street.
Finally satisfied that everything was in place, Jack took a seat at the small wooden table which stood in the centre of the apartment. "So, gentlemen," he said. "Standard five card hand, aces low, deuces wild. I'll deal."
xXxXxXx
Three hours later Huey let out a deep chuckle as Ray handed over the last of his matchsticks. "I guess you lost, Vecchio," he said, grinning at Ryan who had been playing with Dief ever since he'd lost the previous hand.
"Nothing new there," replied Ray with a sigh and he stuffed his mouth with a handful of peanuts. His heart had not been into the poker game at all. He knew the reason why, although he hadn't wanted to admit it to himself. "Remember the last time we did this?" he said with his mouth full. "And Gardino filled us in with all the details of his car wreck of a love life." The corners of Ray's mouth flickered into a smile as he remembered the conversation.
"Yeah, yeah, I remember," replied Jack wistfully.
There was a moment's silence as they both thought about their fallen colleague. Eventually Ray spoke. "Hey, Jack," he began softly and he reached across and squeezed Jack's arm. "I'm, er, I'm sorry about Louis."
"Me too," agreed Jack. "But I already told you, you don't have to keep apologising. It could've been any one of us."
"Yeah, but it wasn't, it was your partner," Ray pointed out. "I know we weren't exactly best buddies, but he was a good guy."
Jack nodded sadly, but then the corners of his mouth twitched into a grin. "And sometimes he was a jerk," he noted.
Ray managed a small laugh, he couldn't argue with that.
Ryan had been listening into the conversation and curiosity finally got the better of him. "Um…who's Louis?" he asked tentatively.
"None of your business," snapped Ray and he got up from his chair and crossed to the window. He picked up a pair of binoculars and put them to his eyes, but he wasn't really watching what was going on outside. Fraser, who had been busy piling up the matchsticks ready for another game during the conversation, eyed his friend with concern.
"It's OK," Jack reassured the young man. "Louis was my partner. He was killed a few months ago. Car bomb. In Vecchio's car."
"Oh, jeez, I'm sorry," replied Ryan, wishing he hadn't asked. Dief whined and Ryan patted his head.
"It happens," replied Jack dismissively, but he was momentarily unable to say anything else because of the sudden lump in his throat. He swallowed hard and regained his composure enough to add, "You'd better get used to it if you're gonna wear a shield. Makes you a target."
Fraser looked up just as Ryan's face fell. He felt as though he should say something reassuring, but he couldn't think of anything to say that would help. Ryan needed to be prepared for the realities of police work. He seemed to think the job was all about heroics and saving the day, but he was wrong and the sooner he realised it the more chance he had of becoming a good policeman.
"Welsh said something about me getting a new partner," Jack continued. "He's on secondment to some task force or other right now so I won't get to meet him for a few months."
"You ready?" asked Ray seriously. Losing a partner was hard enough, but sometimes getting a new one after losing the previous one in tragic circumstances was harder.
Jack shrugged. "Like I said, I got a few months yet," he replied and Ray nodded understandingly.
"Just as long as the new guy lets me drive we'll get along just fine, I'm sure," added Jack with a laugh.
xXxXxXx
The day drew to a close, just as Ray had suspected, with no sign of Macklin. He did, however, win two hands of poker so that at least improved his mood.
"Anything going on down there?" Huey asked Fraser hopefully as he began to pack away some of the surveillance equipment.
"I'm sorry, Detective, but no," replied Fraser with one final look into the fading daylight of the street outside.
"So how did you enjoy your first stakeout?" Ray asked Ryan as he slipped the playing cards back into their box.
"Um, it was OK, I guess," replied Ryan. "It was cool to see some of this equipment in use. My dad used to bring home all these cases and bags, but we were never allowed to touch it. Too valuable, I guess."
"This equipment was certainly not designed as children's playthings," agreed Fraser.
"Yeah, but he let us play with some stuff," explained Ryan. "Handcuffs, notebooks, that kind of thing. Me and my brother and sister were always playing cops. Never really played anything else."
"Did you always want to emulate your father and join the police?" Fraser asked.
He and Ray expected an immediate answer, but to their surprise Ryan hesitated. "Um…yeah," he replied eventually. "Sure."
Ray glanced at Fraser. Ryan didn't sound at all sure. He could imagine the pressure Ryan must have felt as a young boy growing up with a very successful father. Ray's father, of course, had been quite the opposite and the only pressure Ray had felt as a child was to grow up and be anything but like him. Fraser, on the other hand, had presumably had similar experiences to Ryan. "Fraser's dad was a big deal in the Mounties, right Benny?" he said.
"That's correct," Fraser confirmed. "My father was a successful and well respected member of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police for many years and as a boy I wanted to be just like him."
"Big shot, like my dad, was he?" asked Ryan. "I mean, whatever the Canadian equivalent of a Superintendent is.
"Actually my father only reached the rank of Sergeant," explained Fraser. "He was offered several promotions, but turned them down, preferring instead to remain in the field. Neither my father, nor his partner, Sergeant Frobisher, had any interest in the administrative or managerial aspects of police work," he added.
"How much administration or management do you need in the middle of the Great White Territories?" asked Ray rolling his eyes.
"I believe you mean the Northern Territories," said Fraser. "And, well, you may have a point there," he admitted.
"I sometimes wish my dad was still a proper cop," replied Ryan. "He was more fun back then. Now it's all just about paperwork and politics."
"I sure as hell wouldn't want to be the Super," said Ray.
"Don't think you'll ever have to worry about that, Vecchio," chuckled Jack and Ray shot him a sneer.
"Are we done here?" asked Ray. "As much as I've enjoyed your company, gentlemen, I'm planning on watching the Bulls slaughter the Hawks tonight from the comfort of my couch."
"Hope you didn't put any matchsticks on that result," replied Huey, dryly. "Thanks for the company today," he added graciously. "See you back at the station." He picked up two large cases and left the apartment.
"You got the key, Fraser?" Ray asked as he gathered up the last of the bags.
"Right here, Ray," replied Fraser and he threw it across to Ray's outstretched hand.
Ryan switched off the light as they left and Ray locked the door before they headed for the stairwell with Diefenbaker bounding ahead.
"He's eaten far too much sugar today," sighed Fraser, but then he fell silent and stopped dead in his tracks.
"What is it, Benny?" asked Ray, suddenly on alert. He recognised the expression on his friend's face and it usually meant trouble. "Is it Macklin?"
"I don't believe so," replied Fraser with a frown. He walked down a few more steps and stopped again. "There," he announced.
This time Ray and Ryan could hear it too, raised voiced coming from one of the apartments. One was clearly a man's voice, although the other was much quieter and Ray could not tell if it was a man or a woman. Fraser jumped down the last two steps and began to walk along the corridor towards the noise, but Ray didn't move.
"Leave it, Fraser," he pleaded. "It's probably a lover's quarrel. None of our business."
Just then there was a crash and a scream and Fraser spun round to look at Ray. "Someone could be in trouble," he announced. "We can't ignore it."
"Yes we can," replied Ray and he carried on walking down the stairs, but he'd only taken three more steps when there was another scream. Ray stopped walking and let out a growl of frustration. "OK, OK," he said. "We'll check it out, but I'm unarmed, remember."
"So am I, Ray," Fraser reminded him as they quickened their pace towards the door of the apartment in question.
Ray glanced over his shoulder at Ryan. "You, stay here," he snapped and Ryan nodded. "I mean it," Ray reiterated. "This is probably nothing, but Canadians have a funny habit of finding trouble, so stay back, just in case."
There was another scream and what sounded like a heavy object falling to the floor.
"Ray," urged Fraser.
Ray took a deep breath and pounded his fist on the door. "Chicago PD!" he yelled over the noise coming from inside the apartment. "Open up!"
Almost immediately the door opened and a stocky, unshaven man stood in front of them wearing a string vest and grey tracksuit trousers. "Cops again?" he snapped. "Leave me alone. I told you before, I don't touch drugs."
Fraser tried to see past the man into the apartment, but his sheer bulk was filling most of the doorway.
"This ain't about drugs," said Ray. "We had a report of a disturbance," he lied. "Mind if we come in? No? Good."
Before the man had chance to answer, Ray and Fraser pushed past him into the apartment. The air was thick with cigarette smoke and Fraser almost choked on the first lungful he inhaled.
"Hey, you can't come in here without a warrant!" exclaimed the man, almost tripping over the remains of a pile of books and magazines which lay strewn across the floor.
Fraser looked round the room. The first thing he noticed, apart from the mess, was the television set whichnhad been tipped forward onto the floor, scattering broken glass everywhere. "Did you have an accident, sir?" he asked.
"Yeah," replied the man, sarcastically. "I was dusting it and it fell over."
"Do a lot of housework, do you?" asked Ray, wiping a finger over the filthy surface of the coffee table he was standing next to and showing Fraser the results.
"Is dust a crime now?" asked the man. Then he noticed Diefenbaker and watched him for a second as the wolf sniffed around. "Hey! Get him outta here!" he yelled and lunged towards Dief.
Fraser grabbed his arm and pulled him back. "Not so fast, sir," he said. "I believe my wolf has found something."
"I told you, there's no drugs here," snapped the man, struggling to free himself from Fraser's strong grasp. Dief scratched at a door and began barking loudly.
"Ray, would you mind?" said Fraser urgently and Ray stepped forward to take control of the man while Fraser ran over to Dief. "What is it?" he asked the wolf.
Dief barked again and Fraser reached for the door handle.
"No!" yelled the man and suddenly jerked himself free of Ray's clutches, before swinging his body round and aiming a punch squarely at Ray. Ray ducked, but it wasn't enough and the man's fist connected with his jaw. Ray reeled back as the man launched another punch, but this time his aim was off and the punch left a dent in the wall.
Fraser spun round ready to help, but Ray didn't need it. He quickly stuck out his leg and the man tripped and fell to the floor with a yell. Before he could think about getting up Ray was beside him, pinning him down with a knee in the small of his back as he snapped handcuffs around his wrists.
"You're under arrest for assaulting a police officer," Ray announced almost gleefully and he read the man his rights.
"You stay outta there!" the man yelled at Fraser, seemingly oblivious to the fact that he was now fully restrained.
"Something to hide?" asked Ray. "Huh? What's in that room?"
Fraser didn't wait for an answer. He opened the door, only to be met with a scream. He stopped in the doorway and held Dief back with his hand as he surveyed the scene. There was a single bed pushed against the back wall and curled up in the centre of the bed on top of the blankets was a figure dressed in pink shorts and a yellow t-shirt.
"It's alright, I'm not going to hurt you," said Fraser gently. At first he thought it was a young girl, but as the figure slowly unfurled to reveal a more recognisable human form he realised that she was a grown woman in her late twenties. She was small and slim with mid length brown hair which had been scruffily pulled back with an elastic. Her face was streaked with blood and her bare legs bore bruises in a variety of shades of purple. She stared at him with wide eyes, but said nothing.
"You're safe now," continued Fraser, but instead of expressing gratitude the woman shook her head.
"You have no idea what you've done," she half whispered.
Fraser turned to call out to Ray. "There's a woman in here, she's hurt," he said. His face was etched with concern and he stepped forward with his hand outstretched. "We can protect you," he said. "We are police officers."
The woman refused take his hand and instead she simply curled herself back up into a ball.
Fraser looked down at Dief sadly. He knew they couldn't force her to accept their help. Judging by the state of her Fraser knew this wasn't the first occurrence of violence she had experienced and if she were to stay here she would no doubt be subjected to more. The assault charge against the man would only lead to a fine at most, if indeed the State's Attorney's office decided to prosecute and then he would be free to continue where he left off with her until he either got bored or killed her. It was a pattern they'd seen too many times, but without the woman's cooperation they were powerless to do anything to stop it happening to her.
"You should let them help you."
Fraser spun round at the sound of Ryan's voice.
"What the he'll are you playing at?" Ray yelled at the young man as he strode into the apartment. His prisoner took the opportunity to attempt to break free, but Ray was not about to let him go that easily. "Hey!" he yelled. "Don't make me set the wolf on you."
Fraser picked up on the cue and ushered Diefenbaker in Ray's direction. Then he turned to Ryan who now stood in the doorway of the bedroom. "I believe we gave you specific instructions to wait outside," he said.
"I know you did," agreed Ryan. "But I can help." He nodded towards the trembling bundle on the bed that was the woman. "Let me talk to her."
Fraser was momentarily dumbstruck.
"Listen," said Ryan, addressing the woman now. "These guys are telling the truth. They can help you."
"Ryan, please, this is a delicate situation," said Fraser quietly, turning his head away from the woman as he spoke. "Saying the wrong thing at this juncture could jeopardise her safety, not to mention her emotional well- being." He lowered his voice even more with his last words.
"I know what to say," insisted Ryan.
Fraser bit the inside of his cheek in an attempt to keep himself calm. "With respect," he began. "This situation requires knowledge way beyond that which can be obtained from a text book."
"I know," replied Ryan. "I'm not an idiot. I know what to do...I know what to say, because...because I've lived through this."