CHAPTER 9
"And you're absolutely sure he was telling the truth?"
Meg Thatcher sipped at the hot coffee Fraser had made for her and looked up at her junior officer as the morning sun streamed into her office from the window behind. The sunlight accentuated his beautiful features.
Is it OK to think of him beautiful? She wondered as she watched the light dance over his cheekbones and sparkle on the brass buttons of his tunic.
Yes, in this case it is.
Fraser stood in front of her desk in his familiar stance – eyes front, legs slightly apart, hands clasped behind his back. Meg had learnt a long time ago that it was pointless to order him to stand at ease in these situations.
"Absolutely, sir," Fraser replied. "Mr Wilson was quite forthcoming when we resumed the interview. He was aware that Andrew McGarratt was planning something either here in Chicago, or in Cincinnati and, after initially doing nothing to stop him, he eventually decided to act."
"I guess his conscience got the better of him," noted Meg with some surprise.
"Um, not exactly, sir," Fraser explained. "It seems that Wilson's motive for trying to stop McGarratt was not on moral grounds, but merely that he was concerned he would be implicated in the criminal activity by association."
Meg rolled her eyes. That was more like the Wilson she'd had the misfortune of spending most of yesterday with.
Dippy was busy dusting the ornaments on the mantelpiece in the Inspector's office. She spun round, feather duster in hand, at Fraser's words.
"Oh my god!" She exclaimed. "This Wilson guy knew that other creep was, like, gonna to try to kill my brother and he totally let him do it?"
"Mr Wilson insists he wasn't sure of McGarratt's intentions," Fraser explained. "McGarratt did approach him several weeks ago to ask if he was interested in becoming more actively involved in his scheme, but Wilson was under the impression that McGarratt was, as he put it, all talk and had no intention of proceeding with his plans."
Meg drank her coffee in silence as she absorbed the new information. After the incident at the station yesterday she had decided to leave the rest of the interrogation to Fraser and Ray and had gone home and straight to bed. She'd spent a rather restless night going over the day's events in her mind and having nightmares about Wilson, Henri Cloutier and, rather bizarrely, Jim, the clerk at the post office. She had no reason to suspect that Jim had any intentions towards her other than to ensure her mail was franked correctly, but all the dreams had disturbed her nonetheless.
Dippy fussed around her desk, tiding papers and pens. "So, where's McGarratt, like, hiding now?" She asked.
Fraser glanced at Meg before answering. He was aware that the young woman's presence was starting to annoy his superior officer. "Um, well, we don't know," he replied.
"Because, like, if he's really the guy who shot Ren then I wanna kick his ass when you find him, OK?" continued Dippy.
Fraser winced at her choice of language in front of the Inspector.
Dippy stopped tidying for a moment and stood with her hands on her hips. "You know something," she said. "That Wilson guy, I wanna kick his ass too. Do you think the cops would let me do that?"
"No, they most certainly would not," replied Meg.
"Oh." Dippy was disappointed and went back to dusting. She started humming a tune while she worked. She was wearing the apron her brother often wore when he was cleaning and to Meg, with her blond hair pulled back in a large pink elastic, she suddenly looked like a character from a Disney movie. Meg glanced at the window, half expecting a flock of bluebirds to be there ready to join in. Fortunately, the only birds she could see were a couple of pigeons and they had no apparent intention of assisting with either the housework, or the singing.
Meg turned back to Fraser. "And what is Jonathan Bell's involvement in all of this?" she asked, trying to ignore Dippy.
"At this juncture the level of his involvement is unknown," explained Fraser. "It seems McGarratt approached various members of the group, including Bell, but Wilson was not aware that Bell had agreed to assist."
"Perhaps his only involvement was to lend McGarratt a weapon?" suggested Meg.
"Or maybe he was, like, blackmailing him?" suggested Dippy, suddenly. "I mean, Jonathan Bell has this deep, dark secret, right? Something awful happened in Iraq that he can't talk about. So maybe the other guy found out what it is and said, like, you gotta help me kill some Mounties or I'll totally tell everyone about what happened." Dippy started pacing up and down as she began to flesh out her idea. "I mean, Lucinda said her brother hates guns and violence now and that's why she's, like, totally sure he had nothing to do with the shootings, but if he was being blackmailed then maybe he had no choice, right?"
"Miss Turnbull…" began Meg, clenching her fist in frustration, but it wasn't enough to stop Dippy once she was in full flow.
"I saw this episode of, um, some cop show once, I can't remember which one," Dippy continued, waving the feather duster around dangerously close to an antique lamp that was standing in the corner. "And this guy with a moustache was blackmailing this other guy and the other guy, the first one I mean, Moustache Guy, totally made him do all this stuff and…"
"Miss Turnbull!" Meg shouted, slamming her coffee cup down on the desk as she spoke.
Dippy almost jumped in the air, but was, to Meg's great relief, stunned into silence.
"This is a private discussion about a police matter," Meg continued, "and do you have to do that right now?" She waved her arms in the air mimicking dusting in an over exaggerated manner as she spoke.
Fraser could see Dippy's bottom lip quivering and realised the only reason she had stopped talking was that she was about to burst into tears. "Serendipity," he said, softly. "Perhaps you would be kind enough to, um, to make some more coffee?" he suggested.
Dippy nodded. "I'm sorry…sorry…" she said, her voice cracking. "I didn't mean to…um, Inspector." She gave a quick curtsey and ran out of the room.
Fraser watched her go. He wanted to run after her and apologise on Meg's behalf, but he couldn't bring himself to leave until he had been dismissed. He turned back to look at Meg, his blue eyes wide.
The Inspector let out a huge sigh and she leaned back in her chair, folding her arms defensively. "I didn't mean to shout," she began, "but she was…she was…" She trailed off.
What had Dippy been doing that was so annoying exactly? Meg wondered. Cleaning her office and trying to help with the case. Neither of which, when Meg thought of it like that, were annoying at all.
She sighed again. "Constable, please tell Miss Turnbull that I'm sorry if I upset her," she said quietly. Meg found it difficult to admit she was wrong, but recently she had started to find it easier to admit it to Fraser. She wasn't sure why, but it was comforting somehow. "Dismissed," she added for good measure.
"Yes, sir," nodded Fraser and left the office.
Meg felt a lump forming in her own throat as the door closed behind him.
Why do I have to treat people that way?
It was precisely that which had got Constable Turnbull shot in the first place, wasn't it? If only she had been more tolerant of him he wouldn't have been outside, a sitting target for every Mountie hater who happened to be passing by with a gun.
I'll have to apologise to the girl…and to Fraser…but not now. Let Fraser calm her down first.
Meg closed her eyes and imagined Dippy sobbing on Fraser's shoulder, his strong, comforting arms around her and his soothing voice pulling her back from her despair as he gently stroked her hair.
Lucky girl. It should be me…
"Oh what am I saying?" she muttered under her breath as she snapped herself out of her fantasy. "This is Fraser. He's probably standing to attention while the poor girl cries her eyes out in front of him."
xXxXx
Fraser found Dippy sitting at the foot of the stairs, tears running down her face. She had her knees tucked up under her chin with her arms wrapped tightly around them.
Diefenbaker had sensed something was wrong and had trotted out from the kitchen to find her. Fraser glanced at his wolf, who had taken a protective position beside Dippy, but between her sniffling and his poor hearing, Dief hadn't really been able to make sense of anything Dippy had said to him.
Dippy glanced up as Fraser approached and dried her face with the corner of her apron.
"May I?" asked Fraser, nodding at the step she was sitting on.
"Sure," replied Dippy and she shuffled over to give Fraser room to sit down.
"The Inspector wishes me to pass on her apologies," began Fraser as he sat beside her. He immediately kicked himself for making it sound so formal.
Dippy looked at him and nodded. She tried to speak, but instead all that came out was a sob.
Fraser sighed. "Don't cry," he urged. He knew if Ray were here he would have pulled her into a reassuring hug, but Fraser still found it difficult to be quite so tactile. Instead he rested his hand on her forearm. "Everything is alright," he added, trying to reassure her with a gentle squeeze.
"I was just trying to help," she said, finally, in a squeaky voice. "I mean, Ray told me that Ren, like, does all the housework around here and I figured that I should, y'know, do it instead while he's in the hospital."
Fraser smiled. "And the Inspector appreciates your assistance," he said. "As do I, but you are our guest here. There's no need for you to work."
"I want to do it," replied Dippy. "I thought Inspector Thatcher would be, like, pleased." She sniffed and another tear slid down her face.
"She is," insisted Fraser.
Diefenbaker barked.
"That's unfair," Fraser replied, scowling at his wolf. "The last few days have been difficult for the Inspector."
"Fraser's right," agreed Dippy. "You can be a really grumpy old wolf sometimes," she added.
Dief growled.
"Hey," frowned Dippy. "You know I totally didn't mean it like that. Jeez, you're worse than Ray."
Fraser smiled at the exchange. It was good for Dief to have someone else to converse with, he thought and Dippy Turnbull was particularly good at conversation.
Maybe some of her positive energy will rub off on him?
"Ray told me about what that creep Wilson did to the Inspector yesterday," said Dippy. "I'm not surprised she's grouchy today."
Fraser was a little taken aback. He folded his arms across his chest, feeling suddenly uncomfortable. "Ray, um, Ray told you?" he queried.
"Well, kinda," replied Dippy. "I mean, Francesca, like, told me first when I called the station last night to see how long you guys were gonna be, but she didn't know exactly what happened because someone told her the guy totally kissed the Inspector, but then someone else told her he didn't. So I asked Ray when we were in the car after we'd dropped Lucinda and Katy off at their friend's house last night. Ray totally didn't want to tell me anything of course, but I tickled it out of him later. He said the guy didn't kiss her, but he, like, touched her face. Is that true? I mean, eeeww, what a creep. I guess she was real glad to see you. Although Ray said he had everything, like, under control so it would have been OK anyway, but even so."
Fraser didn't quite know how to respond. "You…you tickled it out of him?"
"Yeah," replied Dippy. "At the hospital last night while we were waiting to see if it would be, like, OK if I sat with Ren for a while even though it was so late. The nurse said yes, but you already know that."
"I see," nodded Fraser. So Inspector Thatcher would be the talk of the Twenty Seventh this morning. That was the last thing she needed and the last thing he'd wanted when he'd burst into the interview room.
Oh dear.
"You're a hero, you know that?" smiled Dippy. "I mean, what girl wouldn't want a handsome Mountie to, like, come running to her rescue in her hour of need? I mean, you did it for me on my first night here when I went off with that guy in the bar. You and Ray did, I mean. I don't know if I, like, really thanked you properly for rescuing me. If I hadn't have been all, like, mad and weird about it at the time I would have done for sure."
"Inspector Thatcher was not in need of rescuing," replied Fraser, awkwardly. "I was merely using the situation to unsettle Mr Wilson," he continued, hoping Dippy hadn't noticed his cheeks turning as red as his tunic. "It was an attempt at the tried and tested Good Cop-oblique stroke-Bad Cop rouse."
Fraser was babbling almost as fast as Dippy could now. "Or, more accurately in this instance, Good Cop-oblique stroke-Bad Mountie and…and it worked," he continued. "Mr Wilson was very forthcoming afterwards. The Inspector is perfectly capable of handling herself in any given situation. She is a Mountie."
Dippy eyed him suspiciously.
"She is very…capable," added Fraser.
Suddenly, a smile began to spread across Dippy's face and her eyes widened. "Oh my god," she said and her smile grew. "You totally have a thing for the Inspector!" she exclaimed.
Fraser leapt to his feet. "A, er…a, um… I beg your pardon?" he stuttered.
Dief yapped.
"I…I have no idea what either of you are talking about," insisted Fraser. He realised his heart rate was climbing and he tried desperately to keep it under control. How on earth could Dippy be so perceptive on this issue of all things? Fraser couldn't understand it. He was very careful to keep his feelings to himself at all times. He didn't even understand what he felt for Meg, so how could Dippy have been so close to the truth? He made a mental note to…well, to do something to stop this happening again. If Dippy could guess so easily and Dief seemed convinced too, then what about Ray? An experienced detective…
Oh dear, he probably already suspects…
"Oh come on," grinned Dippy. "You have the hots for her and that's why you ran in to save her. Oh that's, like, sooo romantic!"
"Ro...ro…romantic? I hardly think…" Fraser scratched furiously at his left eyebrow as he spoke.
"I won't tell anyone," Dippy stood up and faced him. "I promise. I guess she doesn't get it, right? So it's unrequested love."
"It's unrequited love," Fraser corrected her, tugging at his earlobe.
"That's so sad," replied Dippy. "I watched this sappy movie once…"
"No, you misunderstand," said Fraser desperately, but Dippy wasn't listening.
"…about this girl who worked in a shoe store and she was totally in love with this guy who…"
"Dippy, I assure you that there is nothing between the Inspector and myself other than a working relationship," Fraser said, firmly. He licked his lower lip as he pondered what else he could say to convince her.
Dippy was still grinning. "If you say so," she said, winking.
"I do."
"I know and I, like, totally heard you."
xXxXx
Lucinda and Katy had spent the night at a friend's house. Even though the forensics team had finished at her house by the evening, Lucinda had not wanted to return home.
"It would be different if my husband were home," she'd explained to Ray, "But he's got two months left of his current tour of duty. It's hard when he's away."
"Your husband is a military man too?" Ray had asked.
"Yes, he trained with Jon," Lucinda had explained. "That's how we met."
Katy had spent the night in bed with her mommy, still scared after what had happened that morning. It had been a long night and they were both still tired when Ray had returned to collect them and take Lucinda to the station. She needed to sign a statement and he wanted to ask her some more questions about her brother. He picked up Fraser from the Consulate and left Katy there as Dippy had agreed to look after her.
Katy waved to her mother as the GTO disappeared out of view.
"So, what shall we do first?" asked Dippy.
Katy shrugged.
"Are you scared?" Dippy asked gently and Katy nodded.
"We're safe here," Dippy reassured her. "Look, I'm locking the door just like Fraser said." She turned the key and pushed both heavy bolts across. "And Dief is here, even though he's kinda asleep right now. No one is gonna hurt you. I promise."
Katy managed a small smile.
"Cool," Dippy smiled back. "We could play schools. That's kinda fun. Ren and I used to play schools, like, all the time when we were kids. We didn't go to a real school that often, especially in the winter because of, like, all the snow, but we still had to learn stuff at home so I would be the teacher and Ren and the animals would be my class and we'd do math and history and all that stuff. Shall we do that?"
"OK," replied Katy with a smile. "I think you'd be a great teacher."
"Really?" said Dippy as she led the little girl into the reception room. "Me? I don't think I'm, like, smart enough to be a teacher. I've always wanted to be an actress, or a supermodel, or maybe a make-up artist working in TV and movies. Not, like, those horror movies, I don't want to do, like, zombie make-up, but I mean doing hair and make-up for all the glamourous movie stars. How cool would that be? Totally cool, right?"
"Sure," agreed Katy, although she wasn't really sure what 'zombie make-up' was. "Can Dief play?" She asked.
Dippy looked down at the wolf. "Well, he's not real good with math…" she began.
Dief barked and growled.
"Oh come on, you told me you'd eaten, like, two cupcakes yesterday and you'd eaten five!" exclaimed Dippy.
Dief yapped a reply.
"That's not an excuse," frowned Dippy, folding her arms as she spoke. "OK, mister. You can sit at the front of the class."
xXxXx
At the station, Lucinda had told Ray and Fraser everything she knew about her brother and his Canadian associates. She'd tried desperately to think of where Jonathan might be hiding out - if indeed he was still in Chicago at all - but she admitted that she often didn't know where he was. He regularly travelled between his home in Canada and Chicago and Lucinda enjoyed his visits, but she also admitted that when Jonathan was going through one of his difficult times his behaviour scared her. His difficult times had become less and less frequent recently, though and she had begun to believe that he was putting the past behind him and getting on with his life. That had been until his latest visit, when he seemed to have gone backwards in his recovery. Despite that she was still convinced he was incapable of hurting anyone, even a Mountie, because of his reaction when anyone mentioned violence or weapons of any kind.
Francesca took Lucinda to the lunch room for coffee leaving Ray and Fraser in the interview room. Fraser opened one of the files and spread all the papers out on the desk in front of him in a neat row.
"You comin', buddy?" asked Ray, heading for the door. "I need coffee."
"Not yet," replied Fraser. He stared at the paperwork and sighed.
Ray came back to the table and stood over his friend. "What's up?" he asked.
Fraser nodded towards the printouts. "These are all the complaints filed against the RCMP by members of the group that Bell, Wilson and McGarratt belong to," he said.
"Yeah, and?"
"And, Ray, some of these people make a good case," replied Fraser, seriously.
"And most of 'em are nut jobs out to sue the ass off the RCMP for whatever they can get," said Ray. "Don't freak out over this."
"I'm not freaking out, Ray," insisted Fraser. "I understand that some of these accusations are unfounded and have been made by members of the public for the sole purpose of monetary gain. I also understand that genuine mistakes can be made, even by Mounties…I've made mistakes of my own…however it is the suggestion of deliberate misdemeanours by RCMP officers which concerns me."
Ray ran his fingers through his spiky hair. He hated to see Fraser so down. "The RCMP has an IA, right?" asked Ray.
"Indeed," agreed Fraser. "Our Internal Affairs division is highly regarded."
Ray sneered. "Unlike ours," he said, rolling his eyes. "What I'm saying is let 'em do their jobs. If any of those reports hold water, your IA guys will be on those Mounties like a…like a polar bear with a sore head."
Fraser stood up from the chair and walked across the room, spinning his hat slowly around in his hands. Then he turned to face Ray, his face serious. "I have always been proud to wear this uniform," he began, standing to attention and placing his hat squarely on his head. "This uniform is a symbol of trust, of honour, of truth and justice," he continued, "and yet there are Mounties wearing this uniform who are clearly not adhering to those principals. I…I don't understand."
Ray's shoulders drooped sadly. "There are dirty cops out there," he said. "Shouldn't happen, but it does. Not all cops are like you, buddy."
"And you," added Fraser with a nod.
A tiny grin danced at the corners of Ray's lips. Am I really one of the good guys? "Yeah, if ya say so," he shrugged.
"I do," insisted Fraser. "You are not capable of carrying out any of the criminal actions referred to in those reports," he added. "I'm not a fool, Ray," he continued, scratching at his eyebrow with his thumbnail. "I have encountered corrupt police officers, you know about the man who killed my father, but it's…well it's somewhat overwhelming to see so many reports gathered together in one place and, in particular, so many of said reports about…"
"Mounties," Ray finished his sentence for him.
Fraser nodded.
Ray crossed the room and gave him a friendly slap on the back. "For every dirty cop out there, for every dirty Mountie, there are hundreds like you," he said. Then he thought about what he'd just said. "OK, maybe not, er, not exactly like you 'coz you're a freak…"
"So you keep saying."
"I mean there's hundreds of clean cops out there, cops like the rest of us just tryin' to make it possible for, er, for good people to tuck their kids in at night, turn out the lights and know they'll be safe," Ray explained with a wink.
Fraser recognised the words he'd used himself once when he'd only just met Ray and he couldn't help smiling at the realisation that his friend had remembered them.
"And yeah, sometimes we screw up," continued Ray as he steered Fraser towards the door. "Sometimes things go wrong out there and if I make a mistake and someone gets, y'know, hurt, then I'll hold my hands up to it, I figure most of us would."
Fraser nodded.
"Listen," Ray paused at the door. "If I ever thought there was a dirty cop in this precinct, I'd kick him in the head before anyone even had time to file a report, but these Mounties…we're just talkin' about a handful of isolated incidents here, right? It's not a, er, a big thing. The RCMP still stands for honour and justice and, er, all that other stuff. Nothing's changed, Fraser."
Fraser nodded silently again.
Ray's eyes narrowed. "So, you're OK, right?" he asked. He wasn't sure if anything he'd said had helped, or even made any sense.
"Yes, Ray. You're quite correct, of course. Nothing has changed," replied Fraser, sounding entirely unconvinced. He wanted to speak to his father, but a quick glance around the room confirmed that there was no sign of the ghost. Bob Fraser knew a thing or two about unscrupulous Mounties, that much was certain. Gerrard had been his trusted friend for years until he'd been corrupted by greed and ultimately turned from Mountie to murderer.
How do you reconcile what happened, Dad?
But there was no reply.
xXxXx
At the Consulate, Katy snuggled into Diefenbaker's neck and yawned as she lay on the sofa. Dief, it seemed, had more pressing needs and carefully wriggled his way free.
"What, again?" asked Dippy. "You went, like, an hour ago."
Dief yapped a response and Dippy shook her head.
"OK, but come straight back," she said and she unlocked the front door and Dief ran off down the street to take care of his call of nature.
Dippy went back to the other room to find Katy had fallen asleep. She smiled and covered her with a blanket. Dippy had loved spending so much time with the little girl and it had set her mind thinking. She'd always loved children and young children in particular seemed to respond well to her. They were so much fun to be around and their boundless energy and enthusiasm matched her own. She knew she could never be a teacher, but maybe there were other careers in the area of childcare she could consider?
Maybe working with kids is my dream job after all? Being a supermodel was a dumb idea anyway.
She was still running through various possibilities in her head as she tidied away the pens and papers they'd been using in their game of schools.
I'll probably have to get a diploma…
The telephone rang and she leapt up to answer it before it woke Katy.
"Canadian Consulate," Dippy half whispered down the phone. "I don't work here, though, so if you have, like, a question about Consulate stuff you're totally speaking to the wrong person, but I can, like, take a message. Just don't talk too fast, OK?"
"Dippy, it's Ray," came the voice. "Just wanted to make sure everything was OK."
"Oh, hi Ray," replied Dippy. "Katy's asleep. Dief's gone out to pee again. We made sandwiches for lunch and cut them into shapes, y'know, like stars and triangles, which was cool. Then we made some gingerbread men…"
"Dippy…"
"And we played schools. Katy's really good at her times tables and she can spell words like banana. I mean, I totally get that wrong all the time! There are too many a's and n's, and it's, like, soooo confusing."
"Greatness," said Ray, anxious to get off the phone. "We'll be back soon."
"OK. Bye, Ray."
Just as Dippy put the phone down a loud noise came from the kitchen. It sounded like glass smashing and it was followed by another crash. Dippy froze to the spot and clasped her hands to her mouth to stop herself from screaming. Before she had time to do anything a man appeared in the hallway. He was dressed in ripped blue jeans and a denim jacket over a filthy white t-shirt and his hair was dishevelled. He looked to Dippy like he'd been sleeping on the streets.
The man was stunned to see Dippy standing there. "You…are you a Mountie?" he asked.
"M…m…me?" squeaked Dippy. "Er…er…no. I…I..."
"Some wino down the street told me this is where I'd find the Mounties," replied the man.
Dippy realised he had a rock in his hand and assumed he had used it to break the kitchen window. He began tossing the rock from one hand to the other and looking around nervously
"Um, er, I'm afraid the Consulate is closed right now," replied Dippy, finding her voice. "If you want to, like, leave me your name and a contact number I can totally get one of the Mounties to call you back, though. Is that OK? I mean, I guess I might be able to help, but it depends what you want. If it's a question about a visa application or something then I can't, but if you just want to know where the library is, or the post office, I can give you directions. Although I sometimes get left and right, like, totally muddled up, but I figure I can draw you a map and you can figure it out. I'm pretty good at drawing maps. Once I had this friend and she wanted to get to..."
"Shut up," snapped the man who had stood in silence as Dippy rambled on.
Dippy did as she was told. She held her breath, hoping that Katy wouldn't wake up, but it was too much to hope for and her heart sank as she heard the reception room door opening behind her.
Please don't hurt her…
But Dippy needn't have worried. As soon as Katy appeared a huge smile spread across the man's face. With the unquestioning innocence of a child, Katy ran towards him before Dippy had time to stop her.
"Uncle Jon!" she exclaimed and the man swept her up into his arms.