The Headless Hoodlum Hi all! I've been away from my e-mail and I just finished catching up on my digests. I got all excited when I saw the Halloween Challenge. Here's my contribution. Hope you like it! (Hey, Carol! This was a real rush job, do you think you could keep the grammar police at bay, please?) Oh, and if you should find anything that seems out-of-character, it *will* explain itself. }:-> Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All characters are the property of Alliance. Rated PG for the headless corpse and one swear word used "in character". ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ THE HEADLESS HOODLUM It was October 31 and St. Michael's Catholic Church was holding its Fifth Annual Halloween Charity Bash in the old Chicago auditorium. It was a spooky, run-down structure that was scary enough without the gruesome special effects Constable Benton Fraser had so painstakingly constructed for this year's events. For an exorbitant fee, dauntless thrill seekers were given a guided tour--guaranteed to chill their blood--a costume ball and cocktail party. The haunted house was in full swing, the ancient auditorium resounding with unearthly shrieks, moans and wails. "Fra-ser!" Ghastly yells were a rudimentary part of the haunted house, but this one sounded real. "Coming!" Fraser shouted, weaving his way through the crowd toward the basement where Ray was waiting. As he made his way down the steps, the yelling began again. "Fra-ser! Get over here! This damned guillotine is going nuts!" "Calm down, Ray," Fraser said. "I'm coming." "Calm down?" Ray shouted, in sarcastic disbelief, his voice garbled by the mask he wore. "Here I am, sweating to death in a stupid werewolf costume, which, by the way, is now covered with red goo that looks like some kid yacked creamed beets all over it, and you want me to calm down? God! Why do I let you talk me into these hare-brained schemes of yours?" In order to blend in with the crowd Fraser was dressed up as Snow White. His makeup was flawless and there wasn't a hair out of place on the long dark wig. The deep folds of the dress and the dark blue sash tied at his waist concealed the tool belt he wore. His face was composed but his blue eyes twinkled merrily. "It's for a good cause, Ray. Here, let me help you clean up," Fraser said, pulling a handkerchief out of one of his pockets. "Get away from me, Constable!" Ray said, yanking the handkerchief out of Fraser's hand. "I can do it by myself! I'm not a baby!" "I never said you were," Fraser replied. "Well, good," Ray grumbled, dabbing at his costume. "And I wouldn't call raising money for juvenile delinquents a good cause." "Ray, Ray, Ray," Fraser admonished. "They're not juvenile delinquents, they're unfortunate children from broken homes." "You call them what you want," Ray said, pocketing the handkerchief as he turned to walk away. "In my book, they're juvenile delinquents. Do you know what they're going to do with that money?" "Huh!" Fraser said. Something in the tone of Fraser's voice, stopped Ray in his tracks. "What?" He turned back to find Fraser investigating a mockup of a headless body undergoing dissection. "Ray, take a look at this body and tell me if you recognize it, please," Fraser said, grimly. "Fraser, it hasn't got a head. How do you expect me to recognize it without a head?" Ray asked. "Besides, that corpse is made out of wax." "No," Fraser replied. "It's real." "Real?" "Yes, Ray. And I believe I know who it is." "Who?" Ray asked. "Take a look at the ring he's wearing," Fraser said. Ray moved closer to the corpse and bent down to take a look at the ring. It was a large gold ring with the letter 'Z' raised on it. He looked up at Fraser in stunned disbelief. "Zuko?" "I believe so, yes," Fraser said. "Somebody finally got revenge on Frank," Ray said. "What an ironic twist that he would get murdered on Halloween." "His body is still warm, Ray. That means the killer can't have gotten too far. If we hurry, we should be able to catch him. In fact, I don't think we'll have to leave this room to catch him." "What are you talking about?" Ray asked. "Of course, we'll have to leave this room. There's no one here but you and me. You didn't kill him and I didn't kill him..." "I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser said. "But I think you *did* kill him." "What?" Ray asked, astounded. "You think *I* killed him?" "Yes, I do," Fraser replied. Ray began to laugh. "Oh! I get it! You're playing a Halloween trick on me." "It's no trick," Fraser said. "That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Ray said. "You can come out now, Ray," Fraser called over his shoulder. "What are you talking about?" Ray asked. "I'm right here. How can I come out of anywhere?" "Because you're not Ray," Fraser said. "You...are Frank Zuko." "Don't be ridiculous!" Ray replied. "Zuko is dead! You saw him yourself." "No. What I saw, was what you wanted me to see. A headless, dead body wearing your ring." "Let's suppose, just for a moment, that you're right," Ray said. "Whose body is it?" "Michael Sorrento," Fraser replied. "And what makes you think that?" Ray asked. "Revenge. He was trying to edge you out of the business so he could take over. He tried to frame you for the murder of Detective Guardino and he made you look like a fool in front of your associates and your customers. You missed your chance to kill him before and when you heard he had escaped from jail, you decided to try again. This time you succeeded. You've been having financial problems and you thought that if you died, your family could collect on your life insurance policy. Then you could move away and conduct your business under Mr. Sorrento's name. The plan all came together when Charlie just happened to be at the costumer's when Ray called in his order. Charlie called you, and you, figuring that you could frame Ray for your murder, told Charlie to rent a werewolf costume for you." "But, how did I know Michael would be here?" Zuko asked. "Your friend, Mr. Roastbeef, discovered Mr. Sorrento was hiding out in the basement. He left a note from you telling Mr. Sorrento that you wanted to meet with him tonight near the guillotine. Dressed in the werewolf costume, you followed Ray here this evening, knocked him over the head and dragged him into the bushes. You then stole his pass and entered the building, searching out Mr. Sorrento. After you killed him, you called me over because you had 'red goo' on your costume. 'Red goo' that is actually Mr. Sorrento's blood." "What did I do with Michael's head?" "I believe that, when we check, we will find you placed it in the guillotine basket...assuming no one would check in there for his head...since there was already a head in the basket." "Nice piece of deduction, Constable," Zuko said, pulling the werewolf mask from his head. His free hand came up to reveal a .38 Special. "Too bad you won't get a chance to tell anyone." Another werewolf stepped out of the shadows from behind Fraser, leveling a gun at Zuko's head. "Drop it, Frank," Ray said. "Ray!" Frank said, cheerfully. "Please, join the party! The Constable and I were just getting ready to bob for apples." "Yeah, well, you'll enjoy bobbing for apples while you're in prison. They use the toilet," Ray said, handing Fraser a pair of handcuffs. "Drop it, Frank! Now!" Frank lowered the gun slowly as two more policemen came down the steps behind Ray. He spoke to Fraser, "I just have one question...the mask distorted my voice...how did you know I wasn't Ray?" "You called me 'Fraser', rhyming it with 'razor'," Fraser said, reaching out to take the gun from Zuko's hand and passing it to Ray. "Turn around, please." "That's your name," Frank said, puzzled. "Yes, it is," Fraser agreed, snapping the handcuffs in place. "But, you see, Ray has always pronounced it 'Fray-shur' to rhyme with the tree, Abies fraseri...Fraser Fir. Also, he has never...ever...called me 'Constable'." "He's all yours, boys," Ray said to the police officers. He turned to Fraser as the cops led Zuko away, "Hey, Benny, listen. They're playing our song." "What song is that, Ray?" Fraser asked. "Heart of Glass," Ray replied. "Wanna dance?" "I'd be honored, Ray," Fraser said. "But aren't there any pretty women you'd rather be dancing with?" "Well, yeah, there *are* some pretty women," Ray said, a grin spreading across his face. "But, in that costume...you're the best looking woman here!" "All right, Ray. Just so long as all you want to do is dance," Fraser said. "Shame on you, Benny," Ray said, with a laugh. "Everybody *knows* we're just friends!" "If you say so, Ray," Fraser replied. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ That's it...that's my story, gang! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!! Stephany sasmith@surfer.pcsonline.com sasmith@mail.pcsonline.com ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Return to the Due South Fiction Archive