CHAPTER 6
There was still a lot of activity going on outside when Lucinda Weller handed Fraser a mug of camomile tea. Ray had left to take the drunk driver to the station for processing, taking Diefenbaker with him and two squad cars were parked across the street. A uniformed officer had already taken Lucinda's statement.
"Thank you kindly," smiled Fraser and he sat down on the sofa.
Katy was playing with her toys in the other room. Fraser could hear her excitedly telling her teddy bear all about how he'd saved her from being knocked down by the 'naughty man' in the car. The bear appeared unimpressed by his heroics.
"Sometimes I wonder what I'd do without this," said Lucinda, sipping at her own tea. "Go completely crazy, probably," she added.
"The calming effects of herbal infusions such as this one are well known," replied Fraser.
Lucinda nodded. "And staying calm has been a struggle lately," she added with a sigh.
Fraser slowly dragged his thumbnail across his eyebrow, carefully considering his choice of words. "As I explained earlier, we are investigating a shooting incident," he began.
"And you think my brother pulled the trigger." Lucinda folded her arms defensively.
"Not necessarily," explained Fraser. "However he has made his feelings about the RCMP quite clear in the past and his recent movements are still unaccounted for. All of which makes him someone we'd like to speak to."
"He didn't do it," insisted Lucinda. "I know Jon and I know he didn't shoot anyone. All he wants is justice for what happened to his son. He wants you people to admit that what you did was wrong."
"I…I can't really comment on…" began Fraser, but he was interrupted.
"No, of course not," Lucinda sighed heavily. She realised it was unfair to ask this one Mountie to make a sweeping statement on behalf of the whole of the RCMP regarding a single incident.
"I understand Jonathan had a career in the military, is that correct?" asked Fraser, keen to learn more about Lucinda's brother.
"Yes," nodded Lucinda. "It's all he ever wanted when we were kids, just like our father." She reached around her neck and pulled out the ring Fraser had noticed she wore on a chain. "This was Daddy's service ring," she explained. "He was a great officer, all his men respected him. He never lost one man under his command. Not one."
"That's a very impressive record," noted Fraser.
Lucinda nodded proudly. "The only battle he ever lost was with the goddam cancer." Her face fell and tears welled in her eyes.
"I'm sorry to hear that. I lost my father quite recently," said Fraser. "It's not easy."
"I can't help wondering if Daddy had still been around, maybe Jon wouldn't have gotten himself into all this mess?" Lucinda finished her tea and placed the empty mug down on the floor with a shaky hand.
"What do you mean?" asked Fraser. "What mess, exactly?"
Lucinda stared Fraser straight in the eye as she spoke. "Jonathan did not try to kill that Mountie friend of yours," she said. "He couldn't have. He can't even look at a gun any more, let alone shoot someone."
Fraser finished the last of his tea and Lucinda took his mug from him. "Why?" he asked.
"I don't know," replied Lucinda with a shrug. "He was a good soldier, Constable. I mean, Jon was never going to be Daddy, but his career was going well. He was sent to some difficult places and he thrived on it. He was living his dream, but something happened over in Iraq. We don't know any details, but when he came home he'd changed. He couldn't talk about it and we couldn't find anything out because the files have been sealed. For national security reasons, they said…whatever that means."
"Changed in what way?"
"In every way," replied Lucinda, sadly. "Emotionally he was a mess, his eyes had lost their sparkle, he even walked differently. He was a broken man. Whatever he witnessed over there affected every part of him."
"Was he offered any help by the military?" asked Fraser. He'd started to feel desperately sorry for Jonathan Bell. He knew how badly some people were affected by witnessing atrocities during military service and it was a very sad way for a proud soldier to end their career.
"Some," replied Lucinda. "They gave him a good therapist and he might have been OK in time, but then his wife decided she couldn't cope so she left him. Nicky was only young and Marina felt she couldn't deal with the mess Jon was in and take care of their son too. I was so angry with her at first. I thought she should have supported her husband, not left him just when he needed her the most."
"It must not have been easy for her," Fraser offered.
Lucinda shrugged and nodded sadly. "I know. Well then she met a Canadian guy and moved up to Halifax. Jon was devastated and went there too to be near his son, but he never really settled in Canada and the ongoing arguments with Marina affected Nicky badly. He started getting into trouble at school, running away, shoplifting, that kind of thing. Then he stole that car and… well, you know the rest."
Fraser nodded. The whole story was so sad, but he was building a profile of Jonathan Bell. Mental illness, tragedy and loss all contributed to a picture of a man with a fragile and unstable mind.
"I thought I'd lost Jon too after it happened," continued Lucinda. "I mean, he completely fell apart, he barely spoke and he wasn't eating or looking after himself at all. I insisted he moved in with us for a while, even though Katy was just a baby at the time, but I had no choice. He's my brother and I love him."
"It sounds to me like you saved his life," noted Fraser with half a smile.
Lucinda shrugged dismissively and continued the story. "So one day he got a letter from someone who knew all about what happened to Nicky. He said there were many other similar cases and that he belonged to a group of people from all over Canada who had grievances with the police. Jon became fixated with the idea that he could get justice for his son."
"The police are not above the law," replied Fraser. "And a police officer who commits an offence should be punished as much as anyone. There are people with genuine cases against the RCMP, but in your nephew's case the enquiry found no fault with the officers."
"Well of course not," retorted Lucinda. "You all close ranks in these situations. The RCMP are not going to admit they were wrong."
"They were not wrong," replied Fraser with determination. "Your nephew was driving recklessly, endangering many lives including his own. The police officers in pursuit were desperate to bring the vehicle to a safe halt before someone was killed, but Nicholas refused to comply and lost control at high speed. Please believe me when I say that the outcome would have been the last thing those officers wanted."
Lucinda's bottom lip quivered. "But…but he was only sixteen. He was just a child."
"I'm sorry," said Fraser. It was all he could think of to say. He waited a moment before asking his next question. "Is Jonathan still in contact with other members of the group you referred to?"
"Yes," replied Lucinda. "He has made some good friends, actually. If anyone saved his life, they did, not me. I think it gave him something to focus on and over the last few years he's rebuilt his life. He organises campaigns, puts families in touch with lawyers, or support groups. You should read about some of these people, Constable. The RCMP have got to take responsibility for their actions."
"And we do," Fraser assured her. "Every such incident is investigated fully and the RCMP accept full responsibility in cases where we are found to be at fault."
"OK, OK, I get it," replied Lucinda, abruptly. "But it's very hard not to side with ordinary families like ours against the might of the Royal Canadian Mounted Police. It's the little people against the Queen. Who do you think is going to win a fight like that?"
Fraser was getting uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going in. Lucinda was becoming quite agitated and he still needed to ask her where he could find Jonathan Bell. The more he learnt about her brother, the more Fraser knew he had to speak to him soon.
"May I ask when you last heard from Jonathan?" Fraser enquired.
"Last week," replied Lucinda. "He turned up here unexpectedly. He has spent a lot of time here over the last few years and of course he's always welcome, but I didn't know he was going to visit. He didn't call, he just arrived."
"Did he explain why he was here?" asked Fraser.
"No," replied Lucinda. "At least, he didn't tell me the truth. He said he missed Katy and he wanted to see her. Katy adores him and they have a lot of fun together when he's here, but I could tell that wasn't the real reason."
"How long did he stay?" Fraser asked.
"Three days," explained Lucinda. "Then we argued and he left. I'm worried about him, actually. I suppose you'd like to know what we argued about."
"Please, if it's pertinent," replied Fraser.
"I came home from work one day to find him fighting with another man in the house. I think it was one of his friends from the group," began Lucinda. "I don't know what they were shouting about; he left as soon as I walked in. Katy was in the house, Jon was meant to be looking after her for me and I don't want my little girl exposed to that sort of aggression. So Jon and I argued about it and then he stormed out of the house. I haven't heard from him since."
"Do you happen to know the other man's name?" asked Fraser, hopefully.
"I'm not sure," replied Lucinda. "Maybe Jon called him Alan? Or Andy?"
Fraser pulled out a folded photograph from his pocket. "Was it, by any chance, this man?" he asked. The photograph was of Andrew McGarratt, one of their other suspects."
Lucinda narrowed her eyes and squinted at the picture. "I…I really don't know," she said. "I only saw him for a second or two." She stared at the face again before handing it back to Fraser. "That might be him, I'm not sure. Who is he?"
"He is another possible suspect in the shooting," explained Fraser. "His first name is Andrew."
"So he could be Andy," nodded Lucinda.
Then Fraser handed her a photograph of Bernard Wilson, the other suspect. Lucinda shook her head. "No, I've definitely never seen this man before. I'm still not sure about the first one, though. Sorry."
"Please don't apologise," said Fraser, getting to his feet. "Thank you for talking to me about your brother, I realise it has not been easy for you." He picked up his hat and turned to leave.
"Wait," said Lucinda. "You don't really think my brother had anything to do with this, do you?"
"I'm afraid at this juncture I cannot possibly say," Fraser answered honestly. "If you hear from him, please call me at the Consulate."
"I will," promised Lucinda. "Thank you again for what you did today Constable. And I'm sorry about before. The last few years have been very difficult and I think my judgement has been clouded."
Katy came running out when she heard the front door open and she smiled and waved at Fraser as he left.
xXxXx
"When are they going to call? They said they'd call, like, this afternoon." Dippy was sitting by the phone at the Consulate staring at the telephone. She was waiting for the hospital to ring with news about her brother.
"I'm sure they'll call soon," replied Fraser encouragingly. "These things can take time."
"And when they do I'll drive ya straight over there," promised Ray.
Dippy folded her arms and sighed. Then the phone rang. Dippy lunged forward to pick it up, but Fraser beat her to it.
"You have reached the Canadian Consulate," he began. "Constable Fraser speak…oh, hello, sir."
It was Inspector Thatcher, not the hospital. Dippy sighed and walked out to the kitchen. All the waiting around for news was making her more and more anxious. She started looking through the cupboards for ingredients. Dief sat approvingly at her feet.
"Baking always makes me feel better," she explained to the wolf. "One time, when Mum and Dad were stuck out in a snowstorm, I baked, like, a hundred cupcakes and a hundred cookies. I just had to keep busy, I didn't know what else to do. They were starving when they finally made it home, though, so they were, like, totally grateful. I don't think my parents realise how much I worry about them."
Dief yapped a reply.
"Maybe you're right," Dippy answered. "So, what shall I make now?"
Dief barked and yapped.
"Well I was thinking of something healthier than cookies," replied Dippy, shaking her head. "Fraser's right, you are a junk food addict. What about oatcakes?"
Dief growled.
"They are not just for horses!" exclaimed Dippy. "You're so silly sometimes." She knelt down and made a fuss of him, rubbing his ears the way she'd seen Fraser do and stroking his neck.
"Yes…yes, of course," Fraser was still talking to the Inspector, nodding as he listened to his superior officer. "No, everything's fine here…right you are. Have a safe trip."
"Ice Queen?" Ray enquired as his buddy replaced the receiver.
"If you mean Inspector Thatcher, Ray, then yes," replied Fraser with a frown. "She is flying out to Ohio this evening to meet with Detectives from the Cincinnati Police Department who are leading the investigation into the shooting of Constable Conti. They may have a lead and the Inspector feels an RCMP presence is called for."
"Fieldwork, huh?" said Ray. "I guess guilt does funny things to her."
"Ray, this case is personal to all of us," replied Fraser, earnestly. "And, despite my initial misgivings, Inspector Thatcher is not to blame for what happened to Constable Turnbull."
Ray shrugged. "If ya say so, buddy."
"Yes, I do."
"And it's got nothing to do with this, er, this thing you two have got goin' on?" teased Ray.
Fraser's face immediately went the colour of beetroot. "Thing?" he repeated, tugging at his collar in a desperate attempt to ease the tightening in his throat. "I…I…I…" he stammered.
Ray laughed and shook his head. "Forget about it," he said.
"You are less than subtle at times, son."
Fraser's head snapped round at the sound of his father's voice.
"This is none of your business," hissed Fraser.
"Hey, I said forget it," said Ray, assuming Fraser was talking to him. Guess I touched a nerve…
"Ah, oh, er…" Fraser turned back to look at his partner. "I…I wasn't…I mean, I didn't…"
"It would be better if it was all out in the open," continued the ghost of Bob Fraser.
"No, it wouldn't," replied Fraser.
"What wouldn't…what?" asked Ray, screwing his face up in puzzlement.
"Nothing," snapped Fraser, quickly. "Nothing at all."
"Greatness," replied Ray, unconvinced.
"Keeping secrets from your partner is never a good thing to do," Bob added.
"I have nothing to hide," Fraser half whispered.
"OK," nodded Ray.
"If you can't trust your partner with details of your personal life, then what can you trust him with?" continued Bob.
"I do trust him," retorted Fraser.
"Who?" asked Ray. "Are you feeling OK, buddy?"
"Yes. You," answered Fraser. "I trust you."
Ray half smiled. It was good to hear those words from his buddy's mouth - because sometimes Ray had dark moments when he thought exactly the opposite – but he wasn't entirely convinced that Fraser wasn't having some kind of weird Canadian breakdown right now. He knew how hard it had been for Fraser to see Turnbull so badly injured, maybe it had all become too much for him? "I trust ya too," Ray said. "With my life, you know that."
Fraser nodded manically. "Well," he said, forcing a huge smile onto his face. "Well, I'm very glad we had this conversation, Ray."
"Er, yeah, me too," replied Ray. He couldn't help feeling that he'd missed something, but for now he was content to give Fraser a friendly hug and let it go.
Just then the phone rang for the second time.
"Ah, the telephone is ringing!" announced Fraser with far more enthusiasm than the event warranted. With a glance over his shoulder to make sure his Dad had gone, Fraser picked up the receiver and introduced himself.
Dippy came running out into the hall, hoping that this was finally the hospital calling to say they could go and see her brother. "Is it the doctor?" she asked? "Is Ren OK? Is he awake? Can we go visit now?"
Fraser frowned, but said nothing. "There's no one there," he explained. He was about to hang up, when he thought he'd try one more time. "Hello?" He shouted down the phone. This time he could hear a faint voice. "Hello? Yes, this is Constable Fraser speaking…Fra-ser."
"Who is it?" asked Ray, but Fraser waved a hand to silence him.
"I can hardly hear you," the Mountie enunciated loudly into the telephone. "I said, I can…yes, yes…Fraser, yes. Ah, it's very good to hear from you. Where are you? Where….yes…I see." He turned to Dippy with a beaming smile on his face. "It's your father," he explained.
Dippy's face lit up and she snatched the phone from Fraser. "Daddy!" she exclaimed.
"It's a very bad line," Fraser explained to Ray. "I believe they're using the telephone at a science station on the banks of the Muskeg River."
Dippy could barely hear her father over the crackling and whistling on the line and tears of frustration starting running down her face. She so desperately wanted to talk to her parents. She wanted to tell them all about what had happened, but she couldn't make herself understood.
"Hey," said Ray, pulling her into a hug and taking the phone from her hand. "Let Fraser try."
Fraser nodded and put the phone to his ear again. "Hello?" he shouted. "That's correct…yes…he's still in the hospital…the hos-pit-al. No, his condition is improving…im-prov-ing…he's getting better!"
Fraser shook his head in frustration.
"Tell them to get here, like, as soon as they can," urged Dippy, pulling away from Ray's arms. "Tell them I love them and I totally need them here." She broke down again.
"Serendipity says she loves you," Fraser shouted into the phone. "Yes…yes, as soon as you can. I understand…I said I un-der-stand. Yes…no, Chicago. Chi-ca-go!"
Then the line went dead and Fraser sighed.
"D'ya think they got any of that?" asked Ray.
Fraser glanced at Dippy's tear stained face and smiled. "I believe so," he said encouragingly. "Your father said something about catching a lift out on the next supply plane."
"It's going to take, like, forever for them to get here," sobbed Dippy.
"At least they're on their way now," smiled Fraser.
Dippy nodded and sniffed. "I was gonna make oatcakes," she said, heading back towards the kitchen with a sigh.
Dief yapped and followed her out.
"I thought you said you hated oatcakes?" she said, looking down at him.
Dief yapped and whined a reply.
Dippy's face broke into a small smile. "I know you're only saying that to cheer me up," she said, "but thanks."
Ray watched the exchange in disbelief. He was used to Fraser talking to the wolf, even though it was embarrassing when he did it in public, but Fraser was a freak and did freaky stuff all the time. Now to see Dippy have the same sort of conversations was just plain weird. Maybe I'm the weird one? Ray pondered.
"You OK if I head back to the Two Seven?" asked Ray. "I'm gonna ask Welsh for some manpower to search for Jonathan Bell. From what you told me about him, we have to find him fast."
"Agreed," replied Fraser. "I'm not sure how he fits into all of this, although something tells me he is not the man who shot Constable Turnbull."
"Is that a hunch you're having there, buddy?" grinned Ray.
"No, Ray," replied Fraser with a straight face. "Merely a conclusion drawn from the evidence presented."
"A hunch," nodded Ray. "OK, so if you need me to drive ya to the hospital later, give me a call."
"Will do."
"See ya soon, Dippy!" Ray called out and Dippy shouted a reply from the kitchen as Ray left the Consulate.
Fraser went into his office and started making notes about Jonathan Bell. He'd learnt a lot about the man from his sister earlier. Bell's mental state at this time was questionable, but that did not mean he was a potential murderer. Especially not after the way Lucinda had described his complete and utter detestation of any form of violence, or the use of weapons. However, he was the only suspect with any links to Chicago and he was still unaccounted for.
Fraser picked up the photograph of Andrew McGarratt. If he had been at Lucinda's house arguing with Jonathan a few days ago it was more than a coincidence. These two men were clearly involved somehow, but Fraser couldn't quite fit the pieces of the puzzle together yet.
They had very little information on McGarratt other than he'd had a younger brother who'd died in jail awaiting trial on a murder charge. McGarratt had subsequently undertaken a campaign against the RCMP and had joined the same group as Bell, becoming actively involved in letter writing and other non-violent forms of protest.
Fraser took a deep breath and let it out slowly, tapping his lips with his fingertips as he did so. A delicious smell was wafting from the kitchen and Fraser was about to go and check that Dippy wasn't going to burn down the building when the phone rang. He hoped Mr and Mrs Turnbull had been able to find a better connection and were calling back, but it wasn't them. It was the hospital, finally calling with news about their son.
"Thank you for letting me know," said Fraser with a smile after the doctor had explained the situation and apologised that it had taken longer than he'd anticipated. Fraser put the phone down and went to give Dippy the good news that she'd been waiting for all day.
Constable Turnbull was out of his coma.