But You Do  All DS characters belong to Alliance, etc.... *But you do* by
Shinz Wong Ray slumped against the wheel of the Riv and watched his
brother-in-law Tony waddle down from the front porch with a gigantic
loaded garbage bag on his way to the black bin by the side of the road.
The end product of three decades of endless fettuccine alfredos,
manicottis, gnocchis, matambres, fusillis, tiramisus, biscottis, and
various Mars and Snickers bars in between meals now unfolded in a very
remarkable little drama that played itself out in front of the exhausted
detective. Tony looked like he was dragging a very large and stubborn
animal down the path to the garbage bin. He was fighting the bag with all
his might, panting and wheezing as he dragged the bag toward its temporary
resting place. About halfway to his destination he stopped, kicked the bag
into a totally different shape, moved to the back of the bag and started
pushing it. Half a minute later he adjusted himself to the front of the
bag and started to pull it. Tony performed these strategic maneuvers four
times before finally arriving at the garbage bin. And then the real
challenge: heaving the bag into the bin. Tony stopped, glared at the bag
for a whole minute, his chest heaving violently. Even from twenty five
feet away Ray could see the streams of perspiration cascading down his
face. Tony continued staring at the bag as if it was one of life's
greatest mysteries, even remembering to kick the mystery every now and
then for good measure. Ray was too tired to feel disgusted and just wished
he hadn't been a witness to the scene at all. It put him in an awkward
position as Tony would soon see him and inevitably ask him to help. He
could always start the engine and drive off as soon as Tony opened his
mouth but all he wanted right now was to crawl upstairs and go to sleep.
He had been in the field all day investigating an armed robbery of a
grocery store in one of Chicago's seediest neighborhoods. The owner was
screaming for the robbers' blood when he had arrived on the scene to find
a prostrate old man on the floor. The owner's 93 year old father had died
of massive heart failure after the robbery as a result of the shock.
Paramedics were soon rushing about the small store. Ray couldn't make head
or tale of the emotional outbursts of the owner and while there were
several eyewitnesses, they gave the usual conflicting accounts of what
they saw, either out of fear or just pure confusion. Ray had been
canvassing the neighborhood all day as everything pointed to the robbers'
familiarity with the area. It was an average crime with a messy aftermath,
a lot of time wasted with very little results, a hectic and almost
mindless day. After eight hours on his feet Ray decided that the report
could damn well wait till tomorrow and drove straight home from the
investigation. "Ray!" Tony had just spotted him. "Aren't you home a little
early today?" Ray scowled darkly. "Yeah, I'm happy to see you too, Tony."
He got out of the Riv grudgingly and walked over to the garbage bag. Tony
nodded at the culprit and shrugged at it. Ray took hold of one side of the
bag fully expecting Tony to grab on to the other side. However, Tony just
looked at him then turned around and walked back to the house. Ray swore
belligerently and yelled. "Hey man!!! What's the matter with you?!?" But
Tony had already disappeared into the house. Ray felt rage shoot up his
throat and used more than the necessary strength to lift and dump the bag
into the bin. The bag protested the roughness by tearing open and spilling
half its contents onto the pavement. Ray stood silently and stared at the
empty cans, rotten vegetables, candy wrappers and numerous unidentified
objects before finally sighing in defeat. He crouched down, picked every
item up and discarded it into the bin. As he straightened up, he felt and
heard his back creak sadly. "You're getting old, Ray." He told himself and
for the first time that day, a smile crept to his lips. He stretched and
swiveled his neck to relax his tense muscles, then walked slowly up to his
front porch. His nephew rushed out of the front door onto the porch
yelling "Uncle Ray!" and leapt straight into his arms. "Whoa there! Whoa!
Whoa!" Ray grabbed the boy who had latched onto his coat and was jumping
up and down energetically. "Let go of my coat." "Uncle Ray! I want to be a
policeman like you." "We'll talk about it in another ten years okay? Come
to think of it, you can come wake me up in another ten years." The boy
refused to let go of Ray's coat and continued talking and jumping up and
down excitedly. "What's the police station like? Do you use your gun
often? How many guys have you whacked?" Ray sighed exasperatedly and
proceeded to loosen the boy's fingers one by one. After a few futile
moments, Ray was saved by his cellular phone's ring from inside his coat.
His nephew finally decided that it was a good time to release him and
stood back to watch Ray take the call. "Vecchio." "Ray?" "What do you
want, Frasier?" "I, well perhaps I'd better...to be frank, I..." "What's
wrong, Frasier? Are you okay?" "If you put it that way...in a sense,
no...no, I'm not." Ray was immediately alert and began thinking about the
worst possibilities. Fraser didn't sound hurt so he was probably
physically uninjured. Ray thought about the other times Fraser had made an
emergency call to his cell phone and the RCMP Musical Ride hijacking
sprang instantly to his mind.. "Are you hurt?" "No, I am fine. Quite well
actually." Ray could hear whispering in the background on the other side
of the line. Low, sinister sounding whispers. There were other people with
Fraser. "Can you talk freely?" Fraser seemed to ponder this question
briefly as the whispering in the background intensified. Ray looked at his
nephew who calmly returned his gaze. Ray didn't want to alarm his nephew
who might squeal to his grandmother subsequently plunging the whole
household into an uproar if the Vecchios found out that their Mountie was
in trouble. Ray gestured urgently for the boy to go into the house. His
nephew merely looked at him and obstinately refused to be obedient. "As a
matter of fact, no, Ray. The people here with me have given me
instructions on what to say. I'm supposed to follow them." "Okay, Benny.
Listen to me. They don't have to know what I am saying to you. So just say
yes or no when I ask you something." "Yes, Ray." "Tell me what they want
you to say, Frasier." "They want...you to come to where they are...where I
am." "Where are you?" "I'm not allowed to convey that information." "So
how am I supposed to come to them? Wait a minute, are you being held at
your apartment?" Ray was slightly perplexed at the hesitant way that
Fraser was speaking to him. It wasn't like the Mountie to be nervous in a
tense situation. What was the matter with his Canadian friend? Ray
suddenly had images of Victoria Metcalfe in front of his eyes. The woman
could be holding a gun to Fraser's temple as they speak. She and her
henchmen could be listening in on their conversation. "I'm coming to your
apartment, Benny. Hang on." "They...say to come alone, Ray." Ray leapt
over the railing on his front porch and sprinted for the Riv. He jumped
in, fired the engine and reversed the car quickly down the driveway. His
nephew stared at his antics nonchalantly and turned back into the house.
Ray made it to Benton Fraser's apartment in record time. As he walked up
the staircase, he pulled out his gun and held it at ready. At Fraser's
door, he put his ear to the panel and listened. All was quiet within and
then, Ray heard a whimper. Without another thought, Ray twisted the door
knob which yielded uneventfully. He moved swiftly and quietly into the
darkened apartment with his gun outstretched, ready to shoot at the
slightest unwelcome movement. Something white came straight at him and Ray
stepped back hurriedly, pointing his gun at the unfocused, white object.
The white blur jumped up at Ray and started whimpering. "Dief! Get down,
Dief!" Diefenbaker was apparently overjoyed to see him and left several
paw imprints on Ray's coat as evidence of his glee. Finally, the wolf sat
back, lolling his tongue and looking at Ray. "Where's Frasier, boy?" Dief
grinned at Ray and said nothing. Ray flipped the light switch, the light
came on and Fraser's apartment looked immaculate as usual. No signs of a
struggle or blood. Ray looked around him in frustration. Now what? His
cell phone buzzed from within his coat. Ray pocketed his gun and quickly
flipped the phone open. "Frasier?" "Yes, Ray." "Are you okay? Where are
you? I'm at your apartment right now." "I'm fine but they want you
to...come to the highest point in Chicago, Ray." "Who are they, Benny? Who
are the sons of bitches who are holding you and what do they want?" "I
really can't say. They have given me explicit instructions not to reveal
their identities." "Okay, Benny. I'll be there right away." "Another
thing, Ray. No police." "&$@* them! They're taking me for a ride. Just
stay cool, Benny. I'll find you." Ray took Diefenbaker along with him
hoping that the wolf might somehow come in handy. The drive into downtown
felt excruciatingly long to Ray as different scenarios presented
themselves to him. He could find Fraser dead or badly injured at the end
of the line. The most frustrating thing was he didn't know what exactly he
was walking into. He rode the elevator up Sears Tower to the observation
deck, feeling an uncomfortable sheen of sweat on his palms. The doors
glided open to reveal the usual tourists with their noses pressed to the
glass. No Fraser. No suspicious looking persons. No one came up to Ray. He
debated showing his badge and asking the people who were milling around if
they had seen anything strange but concluded that it probably wouldn't be
a very good idea. Ray flipped open his cell phone and dialed the number on
Jack Huey's desk back at the precinct. He might as well rally together
some unofficial backup if this turned out to be an extended search and
rescue mission. "27th precinct. Detective Huey's desk." A woman answered
the call. "This is Vecchio. Let me talk to Jack." "Huey's not here. Staff
sergeant says he's gone for the day." "Put Elaine on then." "She's taken
half the day off." "Is the Lieutenant there?" "Sorry, he's gone too."
"Great, this is just what I need. A real situation and half the Chicago PD
decides to take the day off." Ray decided to call Fraser's office. Perhaps
Inspector Thatcher would know something about this. Constable Turnbull
answered his call. "Good evening, you have reached the Canadian Consulate.
If you only speak French, I am afraid you will have to call back tomorrow.
If you would like to speak in English, I can be of assistance." "Is
Inspector Thatcher there?" "No, I am afraid the Inspector is not in. Would
you like to speak to her deputy?" "You mean Frasier's there?" "No, I'm
afraid Constable Fraser is not in either. Would you like to speak to his
deputy, sir? If you would, you will be speaking to me. I am *his* deputy,
sir, and he's her's." Ray shut off the phone with murder in his eyes but
before he could replace it in his coat, it started ringing again. "Benny?"
"Yes, Ray." "What are they saying now?" "Chinatown, Ray. You are to go to
a shop called "Huang Zhi's Bakery"." "What am I supposed to find there?
What am I supposed to do there? Damn it, Benny, can't you tell me
anything?" "They gave me very specific instructions, Ray." "Let me talk to
their leader." "I'm afraid that's not possible. She's very firm about not
wanting to talk to you right now." Ray jumped at the "she". Victoria! "I
knew it! It's her, isn't it? She's back, isn't she? Damn it!" He knew
Victoria Metcalfe hated his guts. He knew she wouldn't let up on a chance
to kill him if she could. If he had a mortal enemy, it would have to be
Victoria. "Ray...just go." Ray and Diefenbaker drove frantically to
Chinatown. He found the bakery quiet and almost deserted. The old baker
was sitting behind the counter reading a Chinese newspaper and hardly
glanced up when he entered the shop. Ray went up to him and asked if he
had seen anything out of the ordinary. The old man gestured a few times,
muttered some phrases in Chinese and resumed his reading. Ray looked at
the baked goods in the glass counter and made a pact to appease his
growling stomach by buying two red bean paste buns. There was a round
table and a few chairs and Ray sank down into one of them, eating the buns
while looking out into the street through the window. To him, the buns
were tasteless although to anyone less worried than Ray was at that
moment, they would have tasted a little on the salty side as the baker's
apprentice neglected to rinse out the mixing bowl that morning after
preparing the batter for salty sesame pancakes. It was nine o'clock and
almost two hours since that first phone call from Fraser. A wild goose
chase. Ray put his elbows on the table and waited tiredly for the phone to
ring again. Ten minutes later, it did. "Frasier?" "Yes, Ray." "Where do I
go now? If they give me one more blind lead, I'm gonna call for backup."
"They want you to go home, Ray." Ray turned deathly cold and his throat
became torturously dry. His home, they were in his home. They had been
throwing red herrings at him so that they could get to his home. Ray
cursed himself and pounded one fist on the table. He drew a deep breath
and said quietly. "All right. I'm coming home. Tell them not to hurt
anyone." Ray's hands were shaking slightly as he walked up to his porch
with Diefenbaker. The porch light was on but the house was quiet, too
quiet. Dief bounded enthusiastically through the open door ahead of Ray
and the next thing that Ray heard was a sharp yelp from the wolf. Then,
there was no more sound. Ray drew his gun. "Please, God. Don't let
anything happen to them. Please, God." The house was all dark inside and
Ray entered cautiously with his gun held at ready. He quietly flipped the
light switch in the hall and was greeted by a chorus of shrieks. The flood
of light blinded him momentarily and he heard his sister Maria yell. "Put
the gun down, Ray. Are you nuts? Put it down. The kids are here." This was
followed by a deathly silence while Ray blinked uncertainly.
"SURPRISE!!!!" When Ray opened his eyes, the first person he saw was his
ex-wife, Angie and the second, his mother who rushed up to him and
engulfed him in a bear hug, gun and all. "Ramondo, Ramondo! Mi bambino!
Happy birthday! Happy birthday!" With his head on her shoulder, Ray saw
Jack Huey, Elaine Besbriss, Lieutenant Welsh and half the personnel from
his department grinning and raising their glasses to him. Francesca,
Maria, his nephews and nieces all crowded around him trying to hug the
parts of him that weren't already in his mother's embrace. Ray's jaw
dropped slowly as he spotted Fraser standing by a window, with Dief by his
side, smiling a little sheepishly at him. Many of Fraser's neighbors were
there too and so were some of the people he and Fraser had gotten to know
over the past two years. Even Margaret Thatcher was there, standing near
Fraser, seeping his mother's special punch. She smiled at him warmly and
nodded. Ray went around the room shaking hands and accepting gifts.
Altogether there were more than fifty people celebrating Raymond Vecchio's
birthday with him. When he finally got to Fraser, the Mountie looked like
he wanted to sink through the floor. Ray looked at his best friend, smiled
and slowly shook his head. "Benny." "I was coerced, Ray. You came home
early and we weren't entirely prepared. Tony came in and told us you were
about to enter the house so Maria sent your nephew to intercept you. Then,
your mother told me to call you on your cell phone. I wasn't exactly sure
what to say but she said that you would believe me more than anyone
else...." "She's right. I wouldn't have believed anyone else. Never
expected you'd try anything like that on me." "I wasn't attempting to
deceive you, Ray. We needed two hours and well...one thing led to
another..." Ray smiled again and patted Fraser's shoulder. "It's okay,
Benny. Were you here all day helping out?" Fraser nodded and pointed at
the stretches of colorful crepe ribbons that were strung from one corner
of the ceiling to another. Ray followed his finger up to them and felt a
lump materialize in his throat. He had forgotten about his own birthday,
no, he actually remembered it for a fleeting second after picking up the
garbage from the split bag but that was it. Just that second. He looked at
Fraser, his grayish green eyes clouding over with gratitude. "This is
great, Benny. I've never had a surprise birthday party before. Never
thought I had enough friends for one." Fraser looked earnestly at his best
friend. "But you do, Ray." DONE   Return to the Due South Fiction Archive