CHAPTER 5

"Dippy!" exclaimed Ray as he, Fraser and Francesca ran off towards the staircase.

"Where is she, Fraser?" asked Francesca urgently, following the Mountie down the stairs.

Without warning, Fraser stopped midway down and it was all Francesca and Ray could do not to crash into him. Fraser cupped his hand to his ear, closed his eyes and listened.

Ray anxiously hopped from one foot to the other, he wanted to run downstairs and search for Dippy. "Now is not the time for one of these freaky Canadian things, buddy," he said with a sigh of frustration.

"Sshhh," hissed Fraser. He listened for one more second before opening his eyes. "Follow me," he said and set off again.

Fraser hoped his senses hadn't betrayed him, because if he was right the situation might not be as serious as they'd first thought. "Serendipity!" he called out as they ran along the corridor. Then a voice answered.

"Fraser, is that you?"

It wasn't Dippy, though. It was a male voice, dripping with an Eastern European accent. A voice they all knew well.

"Good morning, Mort," replied Fraser as they ran into the morgue.

The smell hit Ray immediately as it always did whenever they had to visit Mort. He covered his mouth and nose with his hand and was so distracted that he didn't notice what had happened at first.

Dippy was lying unconscious on the cold, tiled floor with Mort kneeling over her. He looked up as Fraser and the others arrived. "Do you know who this is?" he asked.

"This is Constable Turnbull's sister, Serendipity," replied Fraser, kneeling beside the older man and helping him gently roll Dippy onto her side. "Is she alright?"

"Yes," replied Mort, checking her pulse. "She fainted, that's all. She'll come round soon enough."

Ray and Francesca both breathed a sigh of relief. "What happened?" asked Ray.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't fast enough," Mort explained. He glanced behind him at the examination table in the middle of the room. A dark green sheet covered the obvious shape of the body that Mort had been working on. "I tried to pull the sheet up, but I'm afraid she saw…well, everything," he said apologetically.

"Oh jeez," sighed Ray, running his hand through his spikey hair. He gingerly edged closer to the table, but turned away when he saw the tray of instruments Mort had been using for the autopsy.

Ray had seen plenty of dead bodies in the course of his career, each one was one too many as far as he was concerned, but out there on the streets it was different. For some reason that Ray couldn't explain, the sight of a victim lying where he or she had fallen, no matter how gruesome the murder scene, was nothing compared to seeing the same victim lying on Mort's examination table. The thought of the things Mort had to do in the course of his work turned Ray's stomach in somersaults.

"Is that, er, is that Jimmy 'The Bull' Bellini under there?" Ray asked, fighting a wave of nausea.

"Yes," replied Mort as Fraser helped him to his feet.

"I've seen the crime scene photos," said Francesca, swallowing hard. The backs of her knees started to tingle and she wondered for a moment if she was about to join Dippy on the floor. "It was a mess."

"Indeed," agreed Fraser, nodding seriously.

"She just ran in," explained Mort. "The door was closed, but she didn't knock."

"I'm so sorry you were interrupted," said Fraser. "Dippy is staying with me at the Consulate while her brother is in the hospital. She is…well, she can be…" but he couldn't find the words to describe her.

Mort smiled. "It's no trouble," he replied. "I rarely get visitors. Perhaps we could be introduced properly one day? I'd like to apologise to her, it was no sight for a woman."

Francesca frowned at his old fashioned attitude, but she understood that he hadn't meant to be offensive in any way. The truth was that it was not a sight anyone should have to see, but Mort had work to do and the police had to solve homicides so that's just how it had to be.

"I had no idea Constable Turnbull had a sister," continued Mort.

"Neither did we," shrugged Ray.

Dippy let out a quiet moan and turned her head slightly.

Fraser glanced back at Mort. "It would probably be best if she was elsewhere when she regains consciousness," he said and he crouched down and gathered her up into his arms.

Francesca held the door open and Fraser carried Dippy out of the morgue. Ray was about to follow them, but then he stopped and turned to Mort. "I have no idea how ya do this job," he said, as another wave of nausea washed over him. "But, er, I'm glad ya do."

Mort nodded appreciatively and Ray ran to catch up with the others.

xXxXx

Dippy blinked deeply. Everything looked out of focus and she didn't know where she was. She blinked again and then the piercing blue of Fraser's eyes broke through the haze. "Hey," she said in a croaky voice. "Like, what happened?" she asked. Her mind was foggy and she couldn't remember.

"You fainted," explained Fraser, "but you're alright now," he added with a smile.

Dippy was on the couch in Lieutenant Welsh's office. Fraser was down on one knee beside her with Ray standing just behind him. She blinked again and let out a slow breath.

"Fainted?" Dippy tried to remember. Then the fog started to clear. "Oh my god!" she exclaimed. "I…I remember now. There was…there was…" She started to gasp for air and push herself to a sitting position.

"It's alright," said Fraser supporting her by the arm. "It's nothing to worry about."

"But I saw, like, there was a dead guy!" she continued. "It was totally, like, gross. And this…this other guy, he was…he was…"

"That was my good friend, Mort," Fraser began.

"Your…your friend?" Dippy's face clearly displayed her repulsion. "But…but…"

"Dippy," Ray interrupted her before she became hysterical. "Mort's our mortician. Ya ran into the morgue."

"Morgue?" Dippy queried. "Oh, like where you keep all the dead people?"

"Well, er, we don't exactly keep 'em for too long, if we can help it," replied Ray.

"Oh, oh so the dead guy was, like, a murder victim?" asked Dippy. Her panic had been replaced by excitement now and her eyes lit up. "That is so awesome!" she added. "And…and you guys have got to figure out who killed him, right?"

"Yes," agreed Fraser. "Detectives Huey and Dewey have been assigned to this particular case, if I'm not mistaken."

"So, have you got any, y'know, suspects?" she asked. "Have you got, like, a whole bunch of clues? I mean, like, fingerprints and stuff in little plastic bags like they have on TV. I love all of those cop shows. I never know who did it until, like, right at the end when the cops figure it all out from a strand of hair, or a receipt from a restaurant on the other side of town, or something. It's so cool."

Fraser glanced at Ray. They were both relieved to see that Dippy had recovered so quickly. "In this particular case there is only one suspect," Fraser explained. "One of the victim's former employees."

"Oh, so was he, like, mad at the guy because he got fired?" asked Dippy.

"Er, not exactly," replied Ray.

"Have you interviewed all the other co-workers?" asked Dippy. "It's just I saw this show once where it was, like, the quietest, most innocent looking girl who did it. Not the guy who everyone thought it was who was always, like, totally mouthing off about wanting to kill his supervisor, but a girl. She was mad because she wanted a raise and she totally didn't get it so one day she just went crazy! What line of work was your dead guy in? On the show they worked in, like, a real estate office or something like that."

"I believe the victim's business revolved around corruption, extortion and execution," replied Fraser with a straight face.

Dippy's expression slowly turned from excitement to confusion and she looked at Ray for an explanation.

"Mob guy," said Ray.

Dippy gasped. "Mob! Like, the real mob? Oh my god, do I have to, like, go into witness protection now?"

Ray sneered in disbelief. "No," he replied incredulously.

"But I saw the guy's face," continued Dippy. "What was left of it, anyway," she added quietly, trying to forget what she'd seen.

"You have nothing to worry about, I assure you," replied Fraser encouragingly.

"Phew," said Dippy. "Because I figure if I ever had to go into witness protection, or if I was, like, an undercover cop or something I'd probably screw the whole thing up. Like, forget to use my new name, or do something dumb like tell someone I just met all about it, because sometimes I just open my mouth and talk without thinking." Dippy giggled.

"We noticed," replied Ray, dryly.

Just then Francesca walked in with a glass of water. "Sorry I took so long," she said and handed it to Dippy. "Glad you see you're feeling better," she added with a smile.

"Well if you ladies will excuse us, Ray and I have a lead to follow up in relation to the shootings," said Fraser. He got to his feet and retrieved his hat from the Lieutenant's desk.

"What? Wait, you can't leave her here," said Francesca. "Harding will be back soon and he'll want his office back."

"Er, we figured you girls were gonna hang out together all day," said Ray.

"I have work to do too, you know," replied Francesca, putting one hand on her hip in a defiant stance.

"I can help you," said Dippy excitedly. "I was just telling the guys that I watch cop shows all the time so I totally know, like, what to do."

"No!" exclaimed Francesca with a look of mild panic on her face. "I mean, thanks for the offer, but maybe we should just go and get lunch at the mall instead?"

"Sure," agreed Dippy. "And I promise I won't get lost again. Cross my heart. I don't wanna walk in on someone, like, cutting up a dead guy again, that's for sure. Although I guess that wouldn't be happening in the mall. I mean, if it was that would be totally weird, right?"

Francesca turned her head so that Dippy couldn't see her face and mouthed the words, 'You owe me,' to Fraser.

Fraser nodded slowly, wondering exactly what kind of payback she had in mind. He quickly realised that it was probably best not to think about that too much.

"Thank you kindly, Francesca," he smiled.

xXxXx

Jonathan Bell's sister lived in a respectable neighbourhood. The identical houses were all well maintained with well kempt lawns and perfectly pruned hedges.

Ray pulled the GTO over to the kerb. He glanced at Dief who was sitting in the back seat. "No peeing on the lawns," he said. "These places have alarms for that kinda thing."

Dief whimpered.

"Well you should have gone before we left," retorted Fraser.

Dief whined.

"Then you'll have to stay in the car," replied Fraser and he opened the door and got out.

"Er, Dief's not gonna pee on my upholstery, is he?" asked Ray, with a nervous glance back at his precious car.

"No," replied Fraser. Then he thought for a moment and added another, slight less convincing, "No."

Ray sneered, but it was too late to do anything about it as Fraser had already knocked on the door of the house.

A woman opened the door and eyed the two men suspiciously. "Yes?" she hissed. She was wearing jeans and a pretty, green shirt and was wiping her hands on a towel. Her hair was neatly tied back with a metal clip and Fraser noticed she wore a ring on a chain around her neck.

"Lucinda Weller?" enquired Fraser. The woman nodded slowly.

"Vecchio, Chicago PD," Ray snapped. He pulled his jacket away from his hip to reveal the badge clipped to the waistband of his jeans.

"Constable Benton Fraser, RCMP," Fraser also introduced himself.

"You're a Mountie?" exclaimed the woman.

Fraser nodded.

"Then you can leave right now," she responded angrily. "Go on, get off my property." She pointed down the path towards the road in case Fraser needed any further clarification.

Fraser glanced at Ray. He'd been afraid of a reaction like this.

"We're here investigating a serious incident," Fraser explained. "A shooting that occurred here in Chicago a few days ago."

"So you figured you'd come round here and harass my brother," retorted Lucinda. "Jesus. Don't you people ever leave him alone?"

"Is your brother here?" asked Fraser.

"No," she replied, quickly. "I haven't seen him for weeks. Now go away before I call the police."

"Lady, we are the police," sneered Ray. "And we just wanna ask ya a few questions. Now we can do this the easy way and have a nice little chat now, or I can go away and get a warrant to search this place. Your choice."

"Go get your warrant," hissed Lucinda. "I have nothing to hide."

"Please, ma'am," urged Fraser. "This won't take long. A good friend of mine is currently in the hospital and we'd very much like to apprehend the person who tried to kill him."

"Your good friend another Mountie?" asked Lucinda.

Fraser nodded.

"Then whoever tried to kill him should have tried harder," she replied coldly. As soon as the words had left her lips, she put her hand to her mouth and Fraser could see genuine remorse in her eyes. "I'm…I'm sorry," she said quietly. "I shouldn't have said that."

Fraser slowly moistened his lower lip with his tongue as he pondered the woman's attitude. Clearly she held a deep seated dislike of the RCMP. Given what they knew about her brother and the circumstances surrounding his son's death it was not entirely unexpected.

"My brother is not a killer," Lucinda continued, her voice a little warmer now. "He may be many things, but he's not a murderer. You people are the ones who killed my nephew."

"I am aware of what happened to your nephew, Nicholas, and I'm sorry," replied Fraser, genuinely. "But please, we'd just like to ask you a few questions. At this juncture we'd very much like to rule your brother out of our investigation."

Lucinda thought for a moment, but then shook her head. "I have nothing to say except that Jon is a good man. If it wasn't for what you people did to Nicky…" she trailed off. "Look, I don't know anything about what happened to your Mountie friend and neither does Jon. Now please leave. My daughter is due home from school very soon and I don't want her seeing you here."

Ray was about to say something, but Fraser stopped him.

"As you wish," he said. "But you do understand that we will return. If you think of anything in the meantime you consider may be of interest, please contact the District Twenty Seven police station, or the Canadian Consulate."

Fraser turned and walked down the path back towards the car, just as the school bus was pulling up on the other side of the road.

"Her attitude stinks," said Ray, stating the obvious. "Which kinda makes me think she's got somethin' she don't want us to know."

"Possibly," agreed Fraser. "Although given the history, it's not surprising she's wary of contact with the RCMP. Perhaps I shouldn't have come."

Ray opened the door of his car and leaned across the roof to talk to his buddy. "The kid stole a car and went joyriding through the streets," he said, glancing up at Lucinda who was walking out to meet her daughter from the bus. "Those Mounties had no choice. I read the report, they did everything to try to stop him safely, but you know how these things play out. The cops are not the bad guys."

"Of course, Ray," nodded Fraser, frowning through the car window at Dief who had found a half-eaten packet of corn chips in the back of the vehicle and was slowly munching his way through them. "And you also know that a grieving family in these circumstances, is naturally going to lay blame with the pursuing officers."

Ray nodded and was about to get into the car, when he heard the screeching of tyres coming around the corner, just as Lucinda's six year old daughter skipped off the bus and across the street. The next few seconds seemed to pass in and instant and all Ray could do was watch helplessly.

"Katy!" screamed Lucinda and Katy screamed too, but Lucinda was frozen with fear and could do nothing to help her daughter.

Fraser, however, reacted instantly. He ran into the path of the car and snatched little Katy to safety. The car screeched to a halt, spinning around as it did so and only narrowly missing the school bus.

Fraser carried Katy back to the waiting arms of her mother and breathed a sigh of relief as he thought about what could have happened.

"Oh my god, Katy!" wailed Lucinda. She hugged her little girl tightly and sobbed into her neck. She looked up at Fraser. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice trembling with emotion. "Thank you so much."

"It was no trouble," replied Fraser.

"You OK?" Ray called out from the other side of the street. He had the driver of the car on his knees and was slapping handcuffs around his wrists. "This guy's off his head," he added. "I'm calling it in."

"We're all fine here, Ray," replied Fraser. He watched as the driver of the school bus jogged over to Ray to see if there was anything he could do.

Katy wriggled from her mother's loving clutches and turned around to look at Fraser. She eyed him up and down, paying particular attention to his hat. "Thanks for saving me, I was real scared," she said in a quiet voice. "Are you…" she trailed off and turned back to her mother with a confused look on her face. "Is he a Mountie?" she asked.

"Yes," replied Lucinda, awkwardly.

"But Mommy, you said Mounties were bad people," continued Katy, frowning with confusion.

Lucinda felt her cheeks flush red with embarrassment.

"He's not a bad man, Mommy. He saved me," said Katy.

"You're right, honey," agreed Lucinda, avoiding eye contact with Fraser. "He's not a bad man at all."

There was a pause. Fraser knew how delicate this situation was. The death of Lucinda's nephew had left a huge hole in their family and in their grief it had been easy to lay blame with the officers who had been trying to stop him. From the brief conversation they'd had so far, Fraser had a feeling that the repercussions of what had happened to Lucinda's family were still continuing. There were far greater consequences than she had meant to let on, although it had been obvious to Fraser and Ray that she was struggling to cope with whatever was going on in her life. Whether those consequences had ultimately led Jonathan Bell to attempt to kill Constable Turnbull remained to be seen.

"What happened to your nephew was a tragedy," said Fraser, choosing his words carefully. "But you can't blame the RCMP."

Tears starting to stream down Lucinda's face again. "I…I know," she said.

Fraser reached out and took Katy from her arms, allowing Lucinda to turn away and compose herself. Katy wrapped her legs around his waist and her arms around his neck. Fraser could feel the little girl was still trembling slightly and he gently stroked the back of her head to calm her. He felt sorry for the child, she had obviously been brought up to believe that Mounties and possibly all police officers were not to be trusted - perhaps even that they could hurt her - and now with the mindless actions of one drunk driver everything had changed. It must be terribly confusing for her, he thought.

Finally Katy's mother turned back and looked directly at Fraser. "I'm sorry. It's all been so hard for us since Nicky died and…"

"It's alright, I understand," replied Fraser. He paused, before continuing. "Now, about your brother…"

Lucinda took a deep breath. "Maybe…maybe we should go inside?" she suggested.

Fraser smiled. "Thank you kindly," he answered.