Ben sensed the other person in the room before actually opening his eyes. When he did open them, he smiled at his best friend sitting next to the bed.
"Hiya, Benny."
"Ray... what time is it?"
Ray looked at his watch. "It’s a little after seven, why?"
"Oh, no reason. I was just curious as to how long I had been asleep."
"Dr. Sheldon said tiredness was one of the drug's withdrawal symptoms."
"Withdrawal symptoms? So I was definitely drugged?"
"Yea, Benny. We don't know how yet, but someone slipped you amphetamines. The doctor said they were very strong, maybe homemade. I had Elaine run some checks and she came up with a drug case you handled back in '86 -- James McLeod."
"Yes, I remember that case. I hadn't been a member of the Force for very long. It seemed like a routine arrest, but McLeod was killed when the cabin exploded. His son witnessed his death. I felt badly about that."
"Benny, do you think the son would try and get back at you for killing his father?"
"He did threaten me at the time, Ray, but it's been 10 years. Why would he wait so long to exact revenge if that was his intention?"
"Who knows? How do you ever know what goes on inside the head of a lunatic? Anyway, Elaine's trying to find out what happened to the kid. I'll let you know what she comes up with."
"Thanks, Ray. How is your homicide case coming along?"
"You mean homicide cases, Benny. There have been two more murders. No break yet. Hell, I can't even figure out what the victims had in common, if they did have anything in common."
"Can I help?"
"Benny, you have enough problems of your own right now. You just take it easy and get well, ok?"
"Ray, I'm fine. I'm just very tired and run down. I can still think clearly -- at least I think I can."
Ray laughed. "Benny, even if you're only thinking half-clearly, it's better than most people. You rest now, and I'll come by tomorrow night with the case files. We'll take them slowly, but if I see you're getting too tired, I'm leaving, understand?"
"Understood, Ray. On another subject, are you taking care of Diefenbaker?"
"Yea, Benny, he's made himself quite comfortable at the house. All the kids are spoiling him."
"Oh dear... I guess that means he's getting his fill of jelly doughnuts."
"He gets one a day -- no more -- that's the deal. I know you're trying to cure him of his junk food habit. Oh, before I forget, I brought you your razor and shaving cream, toothbrush, mouthwash, brush, and some magazines. I couldn't find any toothpaste. You run out?"
"I don't use toothpaste, Ray. I use tooth powder. And no, I did not run out. I just opened a fresh tin two days ago."
"I'll go back and look again, Benny, but I swear I didn't see any. Oh, everyone at the precinct sends their get well wishes."
"Thank you, Ray. Please give my thanks to the people at the precinct."
"I will. Well, I'd better go and let you get some rest. I'll be back tomorrow night."
"Ray, don't go... please. I... I need to talk to you."
"Sure, Benny. What's wrong?"
"Ray, I want to apologize for everything I said to you while under the influence of the drugs. But, most of all, I want to tell you how sorry I am for hurting you. You know I would never do anything to hurt you intentionally..."
"Fraser, stop it. You don't have to apologize for anything. I know you didn't hurt me on purpose. It was just the drugs making you act like that." Ray took Fraser's hand. "Benny, you're my best friend. I understand, and it's ok... really it is."
"Thank you for being so understanding, Ray. I consider you to be my best friend as well."
"I know. Is there anything you need?"
"Nothing I can think of."
"Then I'll say good night. You take care, Benny."
"Good night, Ray. Thank you for everything."
Ray gave Fraser's arm a light squeeze and headed for the door. "Benny, if you need anything..."
"I know, Ray. Thanks."
Ray just nodded and stepped through the door.
The last movement of Beethoven's 9th Symphony could just be heard as Steve sipped his drink on the patio. He closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair, totally relaxed, oblivious to the figure creeping along the fence.
The stalker peered around the corner of the house. Steve was still sitting in the chair with his eyes closed. A gloved hand pulled a hunting knife from its sheath as the intruder silently crept closer to his victim. Beethoven's Symphony ended -- and so did Steve's life -- with a single thrust to the heart. The killer arranged Steve's arms so they were resting in his lap. He took a small Canadian flag from his pocket and placed it in Steve's right hand. Satisfied with his work, the killer hopped over the fence and blended with the darkness.
"Constable Fraser, am I disturbing you?" Dr. Sheldon asked as he peered into the room.
"No, doctor, not at all. Please come in, and call me Ben."
"You're going to have a busy day tomorrow. I've scheduled an electroencephalogram, echoencephalogram, electrocardiogram, echocardiogram, and a Doppler echocardiogram for you. We'll be performing an MRI on Friday. Are there any questions I can answer for you?"
"Not about the tests, however, what can you tell me about the drug found in my system?"
"As I told Detective Vecchio, it's a form of amphetamine. I've never seen anything like it before. We're doing further analysis to get its exact chemical makeup. There wasn't much of the drug in your system when you were brought in, but you were exhibiting symptoms consistent with someone who had ingested a large dose, or who was a habitual user. This led me to believe the drug was extremely potent. You could easily have overdosed."
"Assuming the drug was homemade, what type of individual could manufacture it?"
"If it's as complex as I believe it is... someone with a degree in Chemistry at least, but they'd have difficulty purchasing the chemicals necessary unless they were a doctor or pharmacologist."
"Interesting... thank you, Dr. Sheldon."
"You're welcome, Ben. A nurse will be coming by shortly to get a blood and urine sample from you. Try and get a good night's sleep."
"Sleeping hasn't been a problem -- it's staying awake I have difficulty with."
"Well, once the drug is purged from your system, I don't think that will be a recurring problem. I'll be by in the morning to check on you. Good night."
"Good night, doctor." The nurse came by later and got the samples she needed. A few minutes later Fraser was asleep.
Ray scrambled through the door of the 27th Precinct. He was late -- again. He hadn't meant to oversleep, but since he didn't get to bed until after 2:00 a.m., well... it was understandable that he wouldn't want to get up at 7:00. Welsh would understand. He'd probably grumble and give him a lecture, but he'd understand after Ray explained. He always did.
After Ray left the hospital, he'd driven around for awhile, finally ending up at Grant Park. There was so much going on in his life that Ray just needed a moment for himself. Instead of relaxing, his mind kept going over the killings and what had happened to Fraser. He decided the murders didn't bother him as much as what had happened to his friend. He still couldn't comprehend why anyone would want to hurt Benny. The man was practically a saint -- Ray chuckled at the thought -- Saint Fraser of Canada. He just hoped Benny was going to be all right. The doctor and Fraser had both assured him, but Ray still wasn't convinced. He knew what drugs did to people. Ray sat on a park bench thinking about Fraser and thinking about his family, and the next thing he knew it was 1:30 in the morning. When he finally got home and went to bed, he was totally exhausted.
Ray went to his desk and just stared. He couldn't see the desk top because it was covered with computer printouts, manila folders, photos, and bags of evidence. Ray slumped in the chair. He definitely needed a long vacation, preferably on a deserted island somewhere. He closed his eyes. What a lovely thought... palm trees, tropical breezes, and...
"Vecchio, you're late. In my office." Welsh yelled across the squad room.
Ray winced. He didn't like the tone of Welsh's voice -- the tone that meant you were either going to get a long lecture, or your ass was in deep trouble. Ray couldn't tell by Welsh's expression which one it was.
"Close the door, Ray, and sit down."
There were two suits with Welsh. "Detective Vecchio, I'd like you to meet Agents Hendricks and Sullivan of the FBI. They're here to assist us in solving the serial killings. The FBI has graciously provided us with a profile of our killer."
Ray looked them over. They were both dressed in dark blue suits, but that's where the similarity ended. Agent Hendricks was about 6' tall and 180 pounds with sandy hair and blue eyes. He looked more like a GQ model than an FBI agent. Agent Sullivan was 5'10" and 175 pounds of pure muscle. Thoughts about not wanting to meet this guy in a dark alley ran through Ray's mind.
"Agent Ford didn't have anything to do with preparing this, did he?" asked Ray.
Agent Sullivan answered. "Agent Ford was reassigned to our Bureau in Alaska after his bungling of the Bolt affair."
"Good." Welsh gave Vecchio a dirty look.
"Detective Vecchio," Agent Hendricks began. "Your dislike of Agent Ford is well known. I just hope you don't think all our agents are as incompetent as he was."
Ray wasn't sure he'd heard him correctly. Someone besides himself actually thought Agent Ford was incompetent? "If you stay out of my way and let me do my job, we'll get along just fine."
"We're here to assist and offer guidance, Detective Vecchio." Agent Sullivan said. "You're free to handle this case in any way you choose. We just want to catch this guy... the same as you do." Sullivan turned to Lieutenant Welsh. "Lieutenant, you have our profile of the suspect. We'll keep in touch. Detective Vecchio." Agents Sullivan and Hendricks shook both men's hands and exited the office.
"Vecchio..." The phone interrupted Welsh. "Welsh here. What? Where? Ok, Vecchio's on it." Welsh hung up the phone and handed Ray a piece of paper.
"Don't tell me it's another murder, Lieutenant."
"I'm afraid so."
Ray headed out the door mumbling under his breath. This was not the way he had planned to start his day. FBI agents, running off to murder scenes -- and he hadn't even had his first cup of coffee! What else could go wrong?
Ray pulled up to the crime scene and parked. He was glad he'd stopped and gotten some coffee. At least he was reasonably awake. He walked through the house to the patio and headed for the body.
"Hey Vecchio, over here," Pete Thompson yelled.
"Whatcha got, Pete?"
"Looks like our killer made his first mistake." Pete pointed to a spot next to some hedges. There, in the soft dirt, was a perfectly preserved foot print.
"Finally, something concrete we can use. It looks like a boot print."
"That's cause it is, Ray -- U.S. Army issue."
"Good work, Pete. Thanks." At last something was going right. Ray finished his investigation and went back to the precinct.
Benton Fraser's day began at 6:00 a.m. when a nurse came by to get another blood and urine sample, and to check his temperature and blood pressure. He spent the next several hours being poked, prodded, scanned, and tested in every imaginable way possible. He'd only been back in his room a short time when Dr. Sheldon and another doctor joined him.
"Hello, Ben, how are you feeling?"
"Exhausted actually. Now I know how a lab animal must feel."
"We did put you through a lot today. I promise we won't stay long. Ben, I'd like you to meet Dr. Norman, our staff physiotherapist. He'll be working with you for the next several weeks."
Fraser looked up at Dr. Norman. He stood 6'3" and weighed at least 220 pounds. He had broad, powerful shoulders and well defined biceps, aptly suited for his profession. His head was covered with fine, blond hair, and his eyes... his eyes reminded the mountie of a northern pine forest, deep green and calming.
Ben extended his hand. "How do you do, Dr. Norman."
"Constable Fraser, I've been looking forward to this meeting." Dr. Norman gripped Ben's hand tightly in his large and muscular one, and shook it.
"Have we met before, Dr. Norman? You look familiar to me."
"I did observe several of the tests today. Perhaps you saw me then."
"Perhaps." Ben studied Dr. Norman's face. Something about him was sending warning signals to his intuitive senses.
"Well, we'd better let you get some rest. I'll see you later, Ben."
"Thank you, Dr. Sheldon. It was good to meet you, Dr. Norman."
"And you, Constable. You and I are going to get to know each other very well. Make sure you get plenty of rest. You're going to need all your strength."
The two physicians left the room. Ben closed his eyes. He had seen Dr. Norman before. If he could only remember...
"Ray, you're not going to believe this." Elaine said as she sat down.
"What's that, Elaine?"
"I found Tim McLeod."
"McLeod... oh, Fraser's case. You did? Where is he?"
"Constable McLeod is stationed in Nanaimo, British Columbia."
"Constable!? He's a Mountie?"
"Fraid so, Ray. Not only is he a Mountie, but a very decorated one. He has several commendations for bravery, and received a medal of valor last year for saving another officer's life. Doesn't sound like this is your guy."
"Guess not, Elaine." Ray laughed. "I wonder if Fraser told him any Inuit stories... Well, Benny'll be happy to hear the kid turned out all right. You got a number for him?"
"Yea, and an e-mail address too. I printed out all the info and put it in the file."
"Thanks, Elaine."
"You're welcome. Can I do anything else?"
"Yea, you can tell me what happened to all the stuff that was on my desk. When I left this morning, I distinctly remember bags of evidence and paperwork being here."
"Welsh had everything moved to the conference room. From now on, that's your base of operations for the serial killings."
"The conference room. Well, at least now I'll have some privacy." Ray gathered up a few things and went down the hall to his new office. Several desks and tables had been moved in along with phones and a computer. The once bare walls now held both a chalk and white board, as well as a city map. Push pins marked the location of each homicide.
Agent Sullivan turned as Ray entered the room. "Detective Vecchio, grab a desk and make yourself comfortable."
"Thanks. You set this place up pretty quick."
"Unfortunately we're setting them up more and more often. This isn't something I want to become proficient at. Let me give you the grand tour." Agent Sullivan showed Ray around the room, acclimating him to each section, and explaining its function. "We'll have a portable copier and fax machine in here this afternoon."
"I'm impressed... mmm, you got a first name Agent Sullivan?"
"Call me Gil; you're Ray, right?"
"Yea. It's always a pleasure to work with a professional. I'm glad the FBI sent you to handle this one."
"Why thank you, Ray. I have a confession to make. The Bureau was going to send another agent to investigate this case. He was less than enthusiastic about working with you, especially after reading Agent Ford's reports. I volunteered to come in his place, but for a purely selfish reason. I wanted to meet Constable Benton Fraser. I was sure Agent Ford invented him, until I saw the news coverage of the Randall Bolt affair. I understand the two of you are close friends. Could you introduce me?"
Ray didn't mean to laugh, but he couldn't imagine anyone asking to come to Chicago just to meet a mountie, especially a mountie like Fraser! "I'm sorry, Gil. It's just that most law enforcement people try to avoid Fraser. He takes a bit of getting used to."
"That's all right. It must sound like a strange request. I did some inquiring, and despite his unorthodox methods, Constable Fraser is regarded as an excellent police officer. He's received numerous citations and commendations for his efforts in apprehending criminals, as well as his volunteer work with the Inuit."
"You wanna join his fan club?"
It was Gil's turn to laugh. "You already know all this, don't you? I'm sorry. He's a bit of an enigma, isn't he?"
"Benny's just... Benny. I don't know how to describe him, except as a good friend, and I don't think I can introduce you just now. Fraser's in the hospital."
"Nothing serious I hope."
"It could've been worse. Someone slipped him amphetamines and he freaked out. The doctor thinks he's gonna be ok, but he wants to run all kinds of tests to be sure. Benny's not allowed visitors, except family, and I'm his only family."
"You're related to Constable Fraser?"
"No, no, not blood related. Benny doesn't have any real family, so he listed me as his next of kin. And actually, my mother sorta adopted him into our family."
"I see, well, if there's a chance, I really would like to meet him."
"I'll see what I can do. For now, would you settle for meeting his wolf?"
"He has a wolf?"
"Diefenbaker; I'm wolf-sitting while Benny's in the hospital. You're officially invited to the Vecchio house for dinner tonight, but I have to warn you, it's like nothing you've ever seen before."
"Thanks for the invitation. I'll consider myself warned."
"Six o'clock ok?"
"That's fine."
"I'll pick you up at your hotel. Where you stayin?"
"The Drake. I'll be out front."
"See you then." Ray went back to the squad room. He was really beginning to like Gil. He sure was a lot different from Fraser. Which reminded him, he had to get the case files and bring them to the hospital when he went to visit Benny. He'd call the hospital and check on him before leaving the office. But for right now, he had reports to complete.
Megacomp Corporation's headquarters were located in a modern, 30-story glass office building in the heart of downtown Chicago. E. J. Grayson's office had a magnificent view of Lake Michigan, not that he noticed. Most of his time was spent staring at a computer screen or pouring over program listings. He was Megacomp's lead programmer in the Research and Development area. E.J. was good -- damn good -- at what he did, and he really loved his work. What he didn't enjoy was trying to find a 'bug' in one of his programs, and having it elude him -- like now.
E. J. scanned each line of code again, but he couldn't find the problem. Best just to put it aside for awhile and work on something else. There were new design specs to go over in his ten o'clock team meeting. He'd review them, go to his meeting, and then worry about the bug. He knew he'd find it eventually. He always did.
Ray reached for the ringing phone on his desk. "Vecchio."
"It's Esther. I've got the autopsy reports on your three victims. They were all killed by a single stab wound to the chest. No other signs of trauma to the body, except on the last victim. His throat was cut before he was stabbed. The edges on all the wounds were jagged, so I'm guessing it's a hunting knife of some kind with a seven-inch serrated blade. Unfortunately there were no fingerprints, hair, or anything else we could use to ID the killer. The full reports are on their way to you."
"What about an Army knife?"
"What?"
"You said it was a hunting knife. Could it have been an Army knife? You know, the kind that Rambo uses."
"Well... I guess it could be, Ray. They're pretty similar. Why?"
"Just making a connection. Pete found a boot print at the last crime scene. Said it was Army issue. Maybe our killer was trained by Uncle Sam."
"That's always a possibility. Do me a favor, huh? Don't send me any new business. I've got a vacation coming up next week."
"New business doesn't include the body your office picked up this morning does it?"
"Ray..."
"Do your best, please?"
"I'll see what I can do. Talk to you later."
"Thanks, Esther. Bye."
"Elaine," Ray yelled. "I need your help please."
Elaine crossed the room and waited at Ray's desk. "Yes, detective."
"Hi, could you cross-reference all our murder victims and see if any of them were in the service, specifically the Army?"
"Sure. No problem." Elaine went back to her computer terminal.
"Thank you." Ray called after her.
Fraser jerked awake at the pricking sensation in his arm. He looked up to find Dr. Norman standing next to the bed, an empty hypodermic in his hand.
"I'm sorry, Ben. I didn't mean to wake you."
"What did you inject me with?" Fraser asked, his warning signals going off again.
"It's just a vitamin compound -- something to build up your strength before we start our sessions. I said you were going to need all your strength. The physical therapy will be very grueling. We don't want to jeopardize your health any further."
"I see. Does Dr. Sheldon know about this?"
"Of course he does. Is there something bothering you Ben? You almost sound paranoid."
"No... it's nothing. I guess I am a bit paranoid, considering what's happened to me. I'm very sorry Dr. Norman. Please forgive me."
Dr. Norman placed his hand on Ben's, caressing it gently. "That's quite all right, it's a natural reaction. No offense taken. You get some rest now. I'll be back later tonight to give you another injection." Dr. Norman released Ben's hand and left the room.
Ben didn't trust him, but had no concrete reason why. Maybe he was just overreacting because of the drugs. Not everyone was out to get him. That was something Ray would think. Great, now he was thinking and acting like Ray. He was a bad influence on him. Ben smiled. No, Ray was a wonderful influence on him, and a good friend.
Ben grabbed a magazine from the bedside table and turned on the overhead light. He'd just read until Ray came to visit. Ben smiled again. He really was looking forward to seeing Ray. Ben hadn't realized how much he missed him. He opened the magazine and started reading, hoping it would take his mind off Dr. Norman.
E. J. walked back to his office after grabbing another cup of coffee. This was just what he needed -- another redesign and schedule change. The whole production schedule had been pushed up two weeks, which meant he'd better find that damn bug real fast. He spread the program listing out on his table again and started rechecking code. He flipped to the second page and... there it was! He knew he'd find it. It was a simple matter of changing one line and resubmitting the job. No sweat. All he had to do now was wait for the job to run and get his printout. He was sure there'd be no other problems. He turned his attention to the next project on his schedule and began sketching out the flowchart.
Ray had spent an exhausting day catching up on all his case files. It had been a long time since he'd spent so much time in the office. He was looking forward to a quiet uneventful evening. The Riv pulled up in front of the Drake at exactly 6:00 p.m. As promised, Gil was waiting out front.
"Hi, hope you're hungry." Ray said as Gil closed the door.
"Starving."
"Great, let's go." Ray pulled from the curb and headed home. The two men chatted briefly before turning onto Octavia Avenue. "Well, here we are. Remember Gil, my family only attacks the ones they love."
Gil stared at Ray. "What?"
"You'll see. C'mon." Ray led the way to the front door.
Ray wasn't joking when he said dinner at the Vecchio house was like nothing Gil had ever seen before. Gil still couldn't figure out how they managed to eat while screaming at each other. His ears were still ringing when Ray dropped him back at the hotel.
"Good night Ray. Thanks for the dinner. It was... very interesting."
"Yea. I did warn you. Night Gil. See you tomorrow." Ray pulled the car into traffic and headed for the hospital. He still had a long evening ahead of him.
Ray signed in at the 10th floor nurse's station. He walked down the hall, knocked on Fraser's door, and poked his head in.
"Come in, Ray."
"Hiya, Benny, how ya doin?"
"I'm feeling much better, thank you. I met my physiotherapist today."
"Physiowhatsit, Benny?"
"Physiotherapist. He will design and implement an exercise program for me to help build up my strength. He's already begun by giving me a vitamin injection. He said he would return and give me another one later this evening."
"This Dr. Norman got a first name?"
"Harold, why?"
"Just gonna do some checkin."
"Ray, you don't suspect Dr. Norman?"
"Until we catch the person who drugged you Benny, everyone and everything is suspect. Understand?"
"Understood."
"Now, I brought my case files. Do you still want to look at them?"
"Yes, Ray. I said I would help." The two friends spent the next several hours going over the four homicides. Ben laid the last file down and said, "Ray, these people have nothing in common. The killer appears to be choosing his victims at random."
"Damn! I hoped you wouldn't say that Benny. Now we don't have a snowball's chance of catching this guy unless he walks into a police station and confesses. And we know how likely that is, right?"
"I'm sorry, Ray. I wish I could have been more help. Perhaps if you find some additional information..."
"It's ok, Fraser. Thanks for tryin. Hey, it's gettin late. I better go before they throw me outta here. I'll stop by tomorrow night, ok?"
"I look forward to it, Ray. Good night. Drive safely."
"I will. Hey, Benny, you sure you're gonna be ok?"
"Yes, Ray. Everything's all right now. I feel much better, thank you."
"Ok, good night. Call me if you need me." Ray gathered up his files, gave Ben's shoulder a light squeeze, and headed home.
E. J. dropped his briefcase on the bed and started getting undressed. At least he found the bug in his program. Now he could put it on the Production System for a thorough testing. He went into the bathroom and got in the shower. Later, he warmed some dinner and sat down to enjoy the Bulls' game, or what was left of it. He couldn't concentrate on the game, so he went to his office and turned on the computer. Maybe he could get some work done before going to bed. He read through his e-mail and posted several responses before dialing into Megacomp's mainframe. He'd been working for about 30 minutes when the power went out. "Damn!" he cried. E. J. reached in the desk drawer and pulled out the flashlight he kept there. He got up and made his way to the patio door, opened it and stepped outside. His neighbors on both sides still had power -- their lights were on. Strange. E. J. was reaching for the fuse box when the attacker struck. He turned the power back on, pulled E. J.'s body back into the house, and placed him in front of his computer. He placed a Canadian flag in E. J.'s hand, turned, and exited the house.
"Is that you, Raimondo?"
Ray walked into the living room. His mother was sitting on the sofa, obviously waiting for him. He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek. "Ma, don't you think I'm a little old for you to be waitin up for me?"
"I wanted to know how Benton was doing. Is he any better?"
"Yea, he's feelin a lot better. He even looks better. He's gonna be startin physical therapy to help build up his strength. I'll tell him you were worried when I see him tomorrow night."
"You give him my love and tell him he's in my prayers."
"I will, Ma. Now go to bed, it's late."
"Good night, Raimondo."
Ray went to his room and got ready for bed. His mind kept going over the killings. He'd been so sure that Benny would have the answers he needed to solve this mess. God, was he that dependent on Fraser? No, not exactly dependent. Ray admired and respected Fraser’s abilities, and considered him an equal. He consulted with him just as if he were his partner. Fraser might as well be his partner considering the amount of time they spent together handling cases. Ray turned off the light and tried to get some sleep. He'd worry about the killings tomorrow.
Dr. Norman returned a few minutes past ten to give Fraser another injection. "I'd like you to start moving around Ben. Take a walk around the floor after breakfast tomorrow, but go slowly. Don't overdo it. If you feel yourself getting tired, I want you to stop. Understand?"
"Yes, I understand."
"Good, now you get some sleep. I'll see you in the morning. Good night, Ben."
"Good night, Dr. Norman."
Northwestern University's Chicago campus lay sprawled out on 20 acres between Lake Michigan and the city's famous "Magnificent Mile". With 7,000 graduate students, 3,500 undergraduate students, and 2,000 professional students, it was difficult to find a place to be alone with one's thoughts -- unless you worked in one of the research labs. These buildings were open 24 hours a day, allowing students to monitor their experiments whenever necessary.
Randy Eberhardt made his way along East Superior Street toward the Searle Medical Research Building. The humidity, almost unbearable during the day, was still oppressive, even at 11:00 p.m. He looked forward to the comfort the air conditioned lab would provide. The grad student crossed North Fairbanks Court and reached his destination five minutes later. He signed in at the security station.
"Good evening, Dr. Eberhardt. Gonna be workin late again?"
"Hi Sam. Yea, looks like it. Can't win the Nobel Prize if I'm home sleeping, can I?"
"No, I don't suppose you can. Well, I guess I'll see you in the morning."
"Ok, Sam." The young doctor walked over to the elevator banks and inserted his security card. He entered as the door opened and pressed the button for the third floor. Randy walked along the deserted corridor, his footsteps echoing off the gray linoleum. He inserted his security card into the electronic lock and punched in his code; the access light changed from red to green and the door opened with an audible hiss. Dr. Eberhardt flipped on the overheads and secured the door behind him. It was going to be a very long night.
He siphoned off the liquid and spread the white crystalline powder into a tray for drying. The doctor shook his head and grinned at the irony of the situation. He was a physician working on his master's degree in pharmacology; yet in exchange for $30,000, he had agreed to manufacture and deliver five kilos of crystal meth. He'd already given three to his 'connection', and was finishing a fourth tonight. Randy didn't trust the distributor; in fact, he gave him the creeps. He'd be glad when it was all over and he could get on with the rest of his studies.
He stifled a yawn as he put the tray in the lab's oven and set the temperature. Dr. Eberhardt looked up at the clock -- 8:12 a.m. -- another hour and he could go home and get some sleep. He walked back over to the lab bench and funneled the contents of the other trays into a large plastic bag. The drugs in the oven needed to dry completely before he could add them to the bag. All he could do now was wait.
Ray walked into the Operations Center and headed straight for the coffee pot. Dief headed for the open box of doughnuts on the table.
"Hey, what do you think you're doing? Don't even think about snatchin one of those doughnuts."
The wolf gave the cop one of his best 'who, me?' looks and whined pitifully.
"Don't give me that big-eyed wolf look. It might work on Fraser, but not on me. I'm onto your act. Besides, your gonna get fat."
Diefenbaker glanced at the doughnuts, sighed, then crawled under the nearest desk to take a nap.
Ray sat down and quickly checked the stack of messages next to his phone. The latest autopsy report was sitting in the middle of his desk, so he picked it up and started reading. It indicated the last victim had a deep laceration to his arm -- the stitches were still in place -- which meant he'd been to the hospital recently. Ray picked up the phone. "Elaine, could you run a cross-reference on our victims with the local hospitals to see if any of them had been admitted lately or had any outpatient work done? And while you're checking hospital records, see what you can find on a Dr. Harold Norman at Cook County. He's a physiotherapist there. Thanks, Elaine." Ray took a sip of coffee and started making phone calls.
"All finished Dr. Eberhardt?"
"For now, Sam. I'll be back this afternoon to complete my tests." 'And pick up the drugs I've got hidden in the lab,' he thought. "Bye."
"Good bye. Get some sleep."
The doctor was looking forward to a shower, some breakfast, and a nap, but not to doing business with the guy waiting on his couch.
"Good morning, Randy. Another long night at the lab?"
"What do you want?" He went into the kitchen to start the coffee. His unwelcomed visitor followed.
"Is that any way to talk to your business partner? You know why I'm here. Where are the drugs?"
"I haven't finished making them. I told you, the school's getting suspicious. They're doing a complete supply inventory. I have to be careful."
"You're behind schedule dammit!" The man slammed his hand against the table for emphasis, making Randy jump. He pushed away from the table, strode across the room, and grabbed the doctor by his shirt. "Look, you little shit, don't think you can jerk me around. I want the rest of the drugs tonight. Do you understand?" He lifted Randy an inch off the ground for emphasis.
"Don't threaten me!" Randy pushed him away. "I know you're the killer the police are looking for, and I won't hesitate to tell them all about you if you push me."
"Is that a fact? Mmmm... well, I guess I'll just have to deal with you then, won't I?" Sunlight gleamed off the knife as he pulled it from its sheath, plunged it into Dr. Eberhardt's chest and twisted. He smiled at the shocked look on his victim's face as he slid to the floor. The killer wiped the blade on the doctor's shirt, placed it back in its sheath, and went to the door, but not before putting a Canadian flag in his ex-partner's hand. He was still smiling as he left the apartment and got in his car.
Gil came over to Ray's desk and handed him a cup of coffee and a computer printout. "You got a response on your inquiry."
"Oh yea? Which one?"
"You asked Elaine to do a search on a Dr. Harold Norman. The name tripped a red flag in our database. He's wanted for sexual misconduct in six states and two Canadian provinces, all of them involving male patients."
Ray read through the printout. "He drugs them and then... oh shit! I think I'm gonna be sick." Vecchio jumped out of his chair and started toward the door. "Are you comin or not?"
"What's your hurry?"
"This pervert is Fraser's physiotherapist."
"Oh, god..."
The Chicago detective broke numerous traffic laws getting to the hospital. He and Agent Sullivan found Dr. Norman in the mountie's room.
"Hold it right there!" Ray pulled his gun and pointed it at the bewildered doctor. "Hands up and move against the wall. Now!" Dr. Norman complied with the detective's wishes, and within two minutes was cuffed, read his rights, and led away by Agent Sullivan.
"Ray, would you mind telling me what's going on?" A totally confused Fraser asked.
"Dr. Norman's wanted for sexual misconduct with his patients, Benny. He... he drugs them and then... well... he does sick things to them, ok?" Ray was visibly upset.
"I see. Was he wanted in Canada?"
"What? Oh yea... Gil said somethin about some Canadian provinces. Why?"
"When we first met, I thought he'd looked familiar. I just wondered if it was because I saw him on a wanted poster. It's not important now, Ray. I guess I should thank you. For once your mistrust of people paid off."
"He didn't try anything with you, did he Benny? Try to touch you or... well, you know?"
"No, Ray. All he ever did was touch my hand. He never tried to get... intimate with me."
"Good thing for him. Hey, I better get outta here and interrogate my suspect. Maybe he has somethin to do with these serial killings, too. I'll see you later, ok Benny?"
"Yes, Ray. Thank you again. You're a good friend."
"You, too, Benny." Ray went to catch up with the FBI agent and his prisoner.
Dr. Norman was processed and left alone in the interrogation room while Veccio and Sullivan conferred outside.
"What do you think, Ray?"
"I don't know. He seems too cooperative... too willing to help us. It doesn't feel right, especially considering the kind of sentence he's gonna get."
"Ray, we've got ten victims who positively identified Dr. Norman as their attacker. He knows we've got him nailed. Maybe he figures if he cooperates, it'll look good to the judge. Remember, this guy's sick. Who knows how his mind works."
"Yea, I guess you're right. C'mon, let see what kind of answers he has."
The two officers entered the room and took positions in front and to the right of the prisoner. Vecchio dropped a file on the table and leaned close to Dr. Norman.
"That's the case file on your ten victims. It contains their sworn statements detailing everything you did to them. And they all positively identified you as their attacker. Now, what I want to know is how you drugged Constable Fraser. Did you make them yourself, or did you have help?"
Dr. Norman looked at the detective quizzically. "I don't know what you're talking about. I didn't drug Ben. I just gave him vitamin injections."
"Yea, just like you gave all your other victims vitamin injections. That's how it starts out, isn't it? You get them to trust you, then you make your move. Inject them with some kind of paralyzing drug? Then you take them someplace secluded and perform perverted sex acts on them. Am I right? Isn't that what you had planned for Fraser?" Ray was right in the doctor's face now.
"I admit to doing those things to the other people, but I didn't do anything to Ben, I swear."
"But you were going to? You wanted to?"
Dr. Norman dropped his head and answered. "Yes... I wanted him. I was going to..."
"You sick son of a bitch!" Ray grabbed the doctor by his shirt and tried to drag him across the table. Agent Sullivan pulled him away and ushered him out the door.
"What the hell's wrong with you, Ray? Are you trying to get this case thrown out? If you can't handle this, let me know now so I can get Welsh to assign another officer."
Vecchio was shaking. "I'm... oh, god... I'm sorry, Gil. I don't know what happened in there. The thought of him doin those things to Fraser... You go back in. Just give me a few minutes, huh?"
Gil placed his hand on Ray's shoulder and squeezed. "Take as long as you need. I understand." He turned and went back into the interrogation room.
Ray went to the men's room and splashed cold water on his face. This wasn't good. He'd almost lost it. He'd really wanted to beat the shit out of Dr. Norman. The detective took a deep breath and let it out slowly. 'Ok, Vecchio, you're going back in there and you're going to behave like a professional. You can't help Fraser actin like some rookie just out of the Academy. You can do this. You can.' Checking himself in the mirror, Detective Vecchio went to join Gil to finish questioning the prisoner.
Agent Sullivan didn't look happy as he sat down next to Ray's desk.
"Hey, Gil. Is something wrong?"
"Yea, you might say something's wrong. John's been called back to Washington to testify on a case he handled about a year ago. The Bureau isn't sending another agent to replace him. Something to do with limited manpower and budget cuts."
"How's that gonna affect the investigation?"
"I'm not sure. The whole purpose of having two agents on the scene is so someone is always manning the Operations Center. If some critical piece of information comes in, they can relay it to the agent in the field, otherwise valuable time could be lost."
"Hey, maybe I could convince the Lieutenant to assign Elaine to us temporarily. She really is a genius when it comes to computers, and she's a damn good cop, too. But don't tell her I said so, or I'll never hear the end of it." The last was followed by a wide grin.
"That would be great, Ray. Let me know if you'd like me to speak to Lieutenant Welsh in an 'official' capacity."
"I don't think I'll have any trouble, but thanks for the offer."
"No problem." He paused for a moment, and when he resumed the conversation his tone was very serious. "Ray, could we talk about what happened with Dr. Norman in interrogation? I get the feeling there's a lot more going on than you're telling me. This is all about Fraser, isn't it?"
"Yea... I guess it is. I didn't realize how much like family Fraser was, or how much I cared about him until now. And... well, I know this is gonna sound silly, but I've always thought of Fraser as bein kinda invincible. Like he was so good that nothin could hurt him. You know what I'm sayin?"
"Yes, Ray, I do. I had a partner like that. It didn't matter if we were in the field, on a stakeout, or in pursuit -- he always looked like he'd just finished a photo session for GQ -- never a hair out of place; never a wrinkle. In the three years we were partnered, I'd never heard him swear, not even once. I'd tease him about it constantly. Then one day we stumbled on a drug buy and one of the dealers pulled a shotgun and... well... Bill died in my arms. It took me a long time to get over it. So, yea... I know exactly how you feel about Fraser."
An awkward silence followed, broken by Elaine's entrance into the room. She handed Gil a piece of paper. "Sorry..."
"What is it, Gil?"
"They just found our sixth victim."
A housekeeper had found the body. She was still pretty upset when Vecchio and Sullivan questioned her. They'd also questioned D. Martin Watterson, PhD, the Chair of Molecular Pharmacology and Biological Chemistry at the University. Dr. Eberhardt had been a student of his. Dr. Watterson couldn't understand why someone would want to kill the young doctor. He'd been well liked by all his associates and professors.
After the interviews, Ray, Gil, and Dief went over to the Searle Medical Research Building to search Dr. Eberhardt's lab. Sam Evans, the security guard, accompanied them. They'd been in the lab less than a minute when Dief began pawing at the floor and barking. Ray went over to him.
"Whatcha got, Dief?"
Ray examined the area where Dief was scratching. One of the floor tiles appeared to be loose. He pried it up with his pen and let out a low whistle. "Well, it looks like Dr. Eberhardt had a little business on the side." Ray pulled out the plastic bag and held it up for Gil to see.
"Well, Ray, looks like we might have found the person who drugged Fraser."
"Or maybe he made the drugs for the killer, and he decided the doctor knew too much and knocked him off to keep him quiet."
"That makes more sense. We'll send this over to the lab and have it analyzed. It looks like crystal meth, but it's been awhile since I worked narcotics."
They looked around the rest of the lab, but didn't find anything else which would give them a lead on the killer. They left the building and went back to the precinct.
"Ok, the note says there's gonna be seven deaths altogether."
"Yes, but what about this line, Ray? 'Six together hold the key to the seventh's fate.' It almost sounds like the first six have something to do with the seventh victim."
"Yea, but how? None of the victims knew each other and we've determined they have nothing in common."
"There has to be something. Wait..." Gil went over to the blackboard and grabbed a piece of chalk. "Read me the victim's names in the order they were killed."
Ray went down the list and read the names while Agent Sullivan wrote them on the blackboard. Elaine walked in just as they'd finished.
"Oh, no..." she said.
Ray turned around. "Elaine, what's wrong?"
"Don't you see it? Look at the names."
The two men turned and looked closely at the names written on the blackboard:
Frank Richardson
Ralph McMillin
Alvin Medrano
Steve Franklin
E. J. Grayson
Randy Eberhardt
Ray turned back. "I'm sorry, Elaine, I don't see anything."
The civilian aide walked over to the blackboard and drew a circle encompassing the first letters of the victim's first names. "Can you see it now? F - R - A - S - E - R."
"Oh, god... The six names spell Fraser. That's what the note meant. Fraser's the seventh victim. But how did the killer find people with the right letters in their names?"
Elaine answered. "They've all been treated as outpatients at Cook County Hospital within the past six months." She handed Ray a stack of printouts.
"What did I tell you, Gil?" Ray gave Elaine a big grin.
"Ok, Ray, what's..."
The phone interrupted Elaine's question.
"Vecchio. Constable McLeod... hello. Thanks for returning my phone call. I thought you might be able to provide some information on a case I'm handling. It involves a Constable Benton Fraser... yea, he's the same one. Someone drugged him, and the doctor said the amphetamines were homemade. Well, yea, I thought there might be a connection between you... uh, huh... You have a step-brother? Would he... He said he'd get Fraser no matter what. Where is he now? Whaddya mean you don't know!? He escaped!? Do you have a picture of him? Ok, look... can you fax it to me? Great, the number is... uh... just a sec... (312) 555-6349. Yea... I know. Thanks. I'll let you know if we find anything. Bye."
"What was that all about?"
"I thought I had a lead on who might have drugged Fraser. He's only handled one drug case during his career, and it was back in '86. A father and son were involved. The father was killed and the son ran away. The son is now a mountie. That's who was on the phone. Now, it turns out that he has a step-brother who swore he'd get Fraser for killing their dad. The step-brother escaped from a psychiatric hospital about six months ago. No one knows where he is. Constable McLeod is going to fax us all the information. This whole case is getting stranger and stranger."
The phone on the fax machine rang a minute later; Ray, Gil, and Elaine waited as the information came through.
"Oh, damn!" Ray ran over to his desk, picked up the phone and called Cook County Hospital.
"Hello, Ben, how are you feeling?"
"Good afternoon, Dr. Sheldon. I'm feeling quite well, thank you."
"I'm glad to hear it. Since Dr. Norman has been arrested, I'm going to give you your vitamin injection." Dr. Sheldon administered the injection just as Dr. Norman had the past several days. "You should start feeling the effects pretty quickly."
"I beg your pardon? There are no..." The words died on Fraser's lips as sudden paralysis gripped him. He tried to quell the panic rising in his chest as Dr. Sheldon leaned over the bed, his face inches above his own. Fraser could feel his breath, hot against his cheek. A slow smile crept along the doctor's face, sending shivers down the mountie's spine.
"You're mine, Constable."
Ray spoke to the hospital security chief, Phil Dunbar, and coordinated their efforts, while one of the security officers went to check on the mountie. A few minutes later, the officer reported that Fraser wasn't in his room and one of the nurses remembered seeing him being wheeled away on a gurney.
"Dunbar, we're on our way. Seal off the hospital. I don't want a fly getting out of there, understand?" Ray slammed down the phone.
"Ray, will you please tell me what the hell is going on?"
Ray waved the fax at Agent Sullivan. "Michael McLeod aka Dr. Michael Sheldon. This is the guy who's been treating Fraser. The killer's been right under our noses the whole time."
The two men hurried out the door.
Fraser was moving along a dimly lit corridor somewhere in the hospital's lower levels. Dr. Sheldon had placed him on a gurney and was taking him... where? Someplace quiet and isolated where he wouldn't be disturbed. No, he wouldn't want to be interrupted while he was killing the mountie. And Fraser was absolutely certain Dr. Sheldon intended to kill him.
The gurney slowed and Fraser was pulled into a brightly lit room. The smell of antiseptic was overpowering. Dr. Sheldon moved away for a few moments, then roughly grabbed Fraser. Something was tied tightly around his upper arm, followed by a pricking sensation.
Dr. Sheldon leaned close to the mountie again. "Let me tell you a story, Constable. It's about a father and his two sons living in Canada. They're trying to run a business -- a very profitable drug business -- when a young RCMP Constable discovers their activities and decides to shut them down. The eldest son is away at the time. When he returns, he finds his home has been destroyed, his father killed, and his little brother on the run. Not a very happy story, eh? But it is one you are familiar with, isn't it? The father's name was James McLeod. Now do you remember, Constable? You killed him, and now I'm going to kill you. I've been plotting my revenge for ten years. I'm going to kill you slowly, and you'll be very aware of everything that's happening to you. That's the great thing about the little drug cocktail I put together -- scopolamine hydrobromide, morphine, and pentobarbital -- it induces a kind of twilight sleep in the patient. I've inserted an IV line into your Cephalic vein, complete with regulator. But instead of fluid flowing in, your blood will be flowing out. Not too quickly, though. I want you to suffer for a long time -- and you will. I guarantee you will."
Ray arrived at the hospital with six uniformed officers, Dief, and Agent Sullivan in tow. Hospital security had been informed and all the exits were being covered.
Phil Dunbar spread out a set of blueprints across his desk. Vecchio and Sullivan were peering intently at the paper, like seers into a crystal ball.
"If I were going to kill someone," Dunbar began, "I'd take them to the basement or sub-basement. Not a lot of traffic, and lots of nooks and crannies to hide in."
"Ok, let's concentrate our search on those two levels." Vecchio said. Turning to Dunbar, he added, "We'll leave your men covering the exits just in case he tries to slip by us. Radio checks every five minutes. Any questions?"
The three men met the rest of the officers, then split up to begin searching. Ray and Diefenbaker took the service elevator to the sub-basement level. The Italian detective pulled his gun, praying at the same time he wouldn't have to use it. The door slid open and the two occupants exited. Ray blinked, adjusting his eyes to the change in lighting.
Vecchio knelt down in front of the wolf, looked him straight in the eye and said, "Find Fraser." Dief sniffed the ground, then lifted his head to try and pick up the mountie's scent. He took off down the narrow corridor, stopping occasionally to sniff the air again and ensure he was following the right trail. Ray was right behind him, confident the wolf would lead him to Fraser, and also warn him of any impending danger. He pulled out his radio to call in his position and situation. "This is Vecchio. I want all team members to report to the sub-basement immediately. Diefenbaker's picked up Fraser's trail. I also want a medical team and an operating room standing by just in case. Over and out." Ray followed the wolf around another corner and muttered, "Please, God, let him still be alive."
"Son?" Sergeant Robert Fraser, RCMP, deceased, looked concerned as he stood over the still form on the gurney. "It's all right, son, I'm here. You're not alone. You've got to hang on a bit longer. Your American friend is on his way with help."
Ben tried to focus on his father, but found he couldn't. All he could see was a kind of hazy mist. He was so cold. He wouldn't die alone though. There was some comfort in that. What was that about Ray? He was on his way? That was good. At least Ray would catch Dr. Sheldon and bring him to justice.
"Benton, just hang on and fight to stay alive. You have to. It's not your time yet. And don't underestimate that Sheldon fellow."
'What? You know what I'm thinking?'
"Yes, son. You see, you're very close to death now. That's why you have to keep fighting. I know you can do it, Benton, if not for me, then for Ray."
'Whatever you say, dad.' What was that noise? It sounded like a dog's bark, but very far away. It must be Dief. I'm going to miss him, but not as much as I'll miss Ray. Perhaps I can visit him like dad used to visit with me.
"Benton! Stop thinking like that. Oh... it's all right now, they're here. I'll see you later, son." And with that, Fraser Sr. disappeared.
Diefenbaker ran ahead, slowing just long enough for Ray to keep up. Ray had no idea where he was. They'd gone down several long hallways and zigged and zagged so many times he was getting dizzy. He turned another corner and almost tripped over Dief. The wolf was scratching frantically at a closed door. Ray's heart was pounding. He grabbed the handle, turned it, then kicked the door open.
"Police, freeze! Oh my god..." Ray closed his eyes and fought the urge to throw up.
"Not so fast, Detective Vecchio." Dr. Sheldon was standing next to Fraser, holding a vicious looking knife at his throat. The floor was covered with blood, and Ray could see more of it running from a tube on the side of the gurney.
"Back off, Sheldon. It's over. You've got nowhere to run."
"I have no intention of running, Detective. I'm just going to stand here next to the Constable for, oh, five minutes or so, then you can do what you want with me. It won't matter. By then Constable Fraser will have bled to death, and my revenge will be complete."
"Step away from him, or I'll shoot." Ray raised his gun so it was level with Sheldon's head. All he had to do was pull the trigger...
"I wouldn't be so eager to shoot if I were you. If you look closely you'll see there's a wire attached to my wrist which runs around the Constable's neck. If I fall over, the wire tightens and acts like a garrotte. So, if you shoot me he dies, and if you do nothing he dies; if you attack me, I simply slit his throat. However you look at it, I win."
"You son of a bitch!" Ray had never felt so helpless in his life. He couldn't just stand by and watch his best friend die. There had to be some way to save Fraser from this psychopath. Ray's eyes drifted from the bloody floor to Fraser. He was so pale. Was he even still alive? He couldn't see him breathing. What if he was too late?
"He's still alive, Yank, but barely. You'll have to move fast to save him."
Ray shook his head in disbelief. He could swear there was a mountie standing next to Dr. Sheldon, and he was talking to him.
"Shoot the wire, Yank. Look, you can see it hanging there from his wrist. You can do it, I know you can. You have to try. Benton's counting on you."
Ray looked where the older Mountie was pointing. It would be a one-in-a-million shot, but it was sure better than just standing there. He lowered his gun and took careful aim. He'd only get one chance. Ray said a silent prayer and pulled the trigger. Dr. Sheldon's hand pulled away from the gurney. Before he had time to react, Ray raised the gun and fired two more times. Both bullets struck Sheldon in the chest, knocking him to the ground.
Vecchio ran to Fraser's side. He pulled the IV from the mountie's arm, then bent the arm back to stop the bleeding. His skin was like ice. The detective felt for a pulse. It was there -- barely. Ray screamed orders into the radio and the place was soon swarming with cops. They rushed Fraser to the ER, where a medical team began a series of blood transfusions to replace what was lost.
Sometime later, Ray and Diefenbaker sat quietly next to Fraser's bed watching the mountie sleep. His color had returned, and the doctors assured Ray there would be no permanent damage. Dr. Sheldon was dead and the case was officially closed. There'd be lots of paperwork to complete, but it would wait until tomorrow. Right now all Ray could think about was how close he came to losing Fraser. He reached out to touch his friend's hand.
A pair of blue eyes turned to meet his. "Hi."
"Hey, Benny. You're supposed to be sleeping. The doctor said you needed plenty of rest."
"Thank you, Ray." Fraser squeezed his friend's hand.
"Don't thank me. I'm just glad the nightmare's over and you're all right. Now go back to sleep. Dief and I are gonna be right here."
Fraser closed his eyes and drifted back to sleep. Ray leaned back in his chair and tried to do the same.
"Hey,Yank..."
Ray's eyes flew open to find the other mountie standing next to Fraser's bed, dressed in... 'oh, no, not the red jacket', Ray thought. The detective shook his head and closed his eyes again.
"You did good, Ray. I'm proud of you. Benton's very lucky to have you for a friend. I hope he realizes that. Good night."
Ray smiled. He wondered if he should tell Benny that he was seeing his dad's ghost too. Nah -- he'd keep that little secret for another time. Right now he was looking forward to some time off, maybe on a little island somewhere...
The end.
Translations:
(1) Raymond, what happened?
(2) Tell me, my son.
(3) Good night. Raymond, make sure you look after him.