This story is rated R for violence (sorry, Ray) and some strong language. Constable Benton Fraser, Detective Ray Kowalski, Lieutenant Welsh, Francesca Vecchio, Inspector Thatcher, Constable Turnbull, Gerrard, Diefenbaker and the Duck boys all belong to Alliance.
I'd like to thank Kat and Linda for their excellent beta reading, their constant encouragement and invaluable suggestions. They took the time to read into the story and help me analyze the characters' motivations. I'd also like to apologize to Kat for my cranky e-mails. My head didn't explode after all.
All comments welcome BiermannR@home.com
Betrayal
by Ruthie Biermann
The phone rang in Constable Benton Fraser's office. "Canadian Consulate, Constable Benton Fraser speaking. Yes sir, I'm sorry to hear that sir. Pardon me? Can you please repeat that, sir?"
An hour later, Fraser stood in Lieutenant Welsh's office, along with Detectives Stanley Raymond Kowalski, Jack Huey, Thomas Dewey and John Tyler. Lieutenant Welsh spoke, "Gentlemen, the Constable has informed me that his life is currently in danger."
"What?" Kowalski shot out? "Whaddya talking about? Fraser, what's goin' on?"
"If you'd keep still, Detective, I'll fill you in," replied Welsh. He continued, "Constable Fraser has been notified by the RCMP that a professional hit has been placed on his life by Chief Superintendent Gerrard, who had been serving a life sentence at the East Ottawa Detention Center."
"Whaddya mean, HAD been serving a life sentence?" Kowalski asked.
"Well, since you asked, Detective," Welsh said, glaring at Ray. "Gerrard is no longer. He expired from heart failure last night. Apparently, on his death bed he confessed to hiring a pro to do our Constable Fraser in."
"Hey, Fraser, wasn't that the creep who killed your Father the same way?" Huey asked.
"Yes, Detective," Fraser replied, "he is one and the same."
"Bummer," Dewey interjected.
Ray couldn't keep quiet. "So whadda we know so far? Do we have an ID on the shooter?"
"No, Detective, we have nada. And until we do, I've asked Constable Fraser if he would agree to stay in a safe house in the interim, allowing us the time necessary to find and stop this guy. I would ascertain he has probably crossed the border by now."
"Well sir," Fraser interjected, "you didn't exactly ask me, you actually ordered ......"
"Thank you, Constable. But that's nor here nor there," said Welsh.
"Understood."
"Kowalski, I want you to escort Constable Fraser to the safe house immediately. Huey and Dewey, you'll start surveillance on the place and Tyler will relieve you. Meantime, Tyler, I want you to check out the Consulate. You can spell each other every 12 hours. I want this creep caught," ordered Welsh.
"And when do we rest?" asked Dewey.
"We'll worry about that later, Detective," Welsh barked. "Detective Tyler, you haven't put your two cents in. You got anything to add?"
Detective Tyler looked up from the floor, "No, sir. Then he thought for a moment. Well, actually, sir, I do have a question."
"And that would be?" asked Welsh.
"The location of the safe house. And are we the only ones who'll have knowledge of the location?" Tyler asked glancing over to Kowalski as he spoke.
"I've arranged to have Constable Fraser stay at the Beekman Hotel on 5th and York Avenues, and...."
"Wow, Frase, yer really gonna like it there. Lotsa stuff on the floor to taste." Kowalski said.
"Detective, can we please keep to the subject at hand?" Welsh asked exasperated.
"Yeah, sorry sir." Kowalski looked down at his boots.
"And to answer your question, Detective Tyler, the only individuals who will be aware of Constable Fraser's whereabouts will be the six of us. Is that understood?"
They all nodded. Welsh went on, "Constable, I've cleared everything with Inspector Thatcher. We've agreed not to discuss the matter again in the future. The fewer people who know about this the better. I'm sorry you couldn't bring your wolf, Constable, but it would prove too difficult to care for an animal while under concealment."
"Understood," Fraser said, "Constable Turnbull has agreed to care for Diefenbaker while I'm on vacation."
"Yes, very good, Constable, while you're on vacation." Welsh agreed. "Are there any other questions or comments, Gentlemen?"
Kowalski jumped in. "Lemme get this straight. All we know is that there's some professional shooter out there who's comin' after Fraser and we don't know anything about him, like what he looks like, or even if he IS a he?"
"That about sums it up, Detective," Welsh replied.
"That sucks," Kowalski spat.
"Well, Detective, that's a fair assessment," said Welsh. "Thank you gentlemen. And make sure you check in with me frequently. I wanna know what's goin' on at all times." Welsh looked over towards Fraser, "Good luck, Constable."
"Thank you sir," Fraser said. "I appreciate the efforts of the Chicago Police Department on my behalf."
The five men left Welsh's office. Kowalski looked over to Tyler, "Tyler, if you see anything suspicious at the Consulate, I expect a call ASAP."
"Don't worry, Kowalski. You'll hear from me." Tyler said to Ray. With that he walked out of the squad room and headed to the Consulate.
Kowalski watched Tyler leave and shook his head.
"Is something wrong, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"Ya' mean, other than the fact that my partner and best friend's the target of a professional hit man?" Kowalski asked.
"Well, yes, Ray."
"No, Fraser, other than that, everything's just peachy keen."
"Well, I'm pleased to hear that, Ray." Ray shook his head again.
"Okay, Huey, Dewey, you guys leave now and get yerselves situated. Me and Frase'll leave in about five minutes." Kowalski said.
After Huey and Dewey left the squad room, Fraser and Ray walked over to Ray's desk. Francesca appeared. "Hey Frase," she eyed him up and down. "How come you're not wearing your uniform?" she asked admiring Fraser's leather jacket.
"Well, Francesca, I am, that is to say, I......."
"He's goin' on vacation, Frannie, startin' now." Ray interjected. Fraser shot Ray an appreciative glance.
"Oh, vacation, really, Fraser? Where ya' goin?" Frannie asked. Fraser looked helplessly over towards Ray.
"He's going to Tuck-yer-guts-up." Ray responded.
"That's Tuktoyaktuk," Fraser corrected.
"What difference does it make, Fraser?" Ray asked exasperated.
"Well, Ray, It does make quite a significant difference when one happens to hail from....."
"Can it, Fraser," Ray said. "I gotta get you to the airport, remember?" He said, attempting to return Fraser to the current situation.
"Yes, Ray. If we remain on schedule, we would need to leave in precisely ten seconds." Fraser said, picking up on Ray's hint.
Francesca looked concerned. "So, Frase, I don't suppose they have many women wearing bikinis up there, do they?"
Fraser looked confused. "Why no, Francesca, it's currently forty degrees below zero."
"Oh good, I mean, it's too bad you can't go swimming. Will you send me a postcard?" Francesca asked.
Ray had heard just about enough of this conversation.
"They don't have postcards in "Tuck-yer-socks-up," Ray said, his voice short. "We gotta go."
"That's Tuktoyak......."
"I said can it Fraser," Ray grabbed Fraser's duffel bag in one hand and Fraser's arm in the other and dragged him towards the door.
"Good bye, Francesca, " Fraser called as he was being pulled out of the squad room.
"Bye, Frase."
As Detective John Tyler drove towards the Consulate, he thought about Ray Kowalski. He knew when he had transferred to the Two-Seven that Kowalski would be there, but he had hoped he wouldn't have to work a case with him. Tyler had a problem with Ray ever since they both worked at the 23rd precinct. Tyler had been working on a huge drug case and was close to a major arrest. He knew solving this case would get him a promotion as well as commendations. And he was almost there. At the same time Kowalski was working on a big murder case. It turned out that Ray's murder suspect was also Tyler's drug suspect, and when it came time for arrests, Ray got the jump on Tyler. The murder/drug suspect confessed to the drug charges and revealed names as part of a plea bargain with the DA's office. So Ray obtained all the glory as well as the promotion where Tyler received a pat on the back for trying. Kowalski had offered to share the collar with Tyler, but Tyler didn't want any part of it. It had been his case and his chance for glory. He wasn't about to share credit with anyone. Tyler's wife had always wanted him to someday be promoted to Captain, as her father had been. After losing out on this case with Kowalski, Tyler's marriage hit the skids. His wife finally left, citing the usual irreconcilable differences, but he knew it was because of his stalled career. And Tyler knew exactly who to blame for that. The thought ate at him constantly, and since he'd come to the Two-Seven it had been even worse. All he could think about was getting even with Ray Kowalski for ruining his life. It was on his mind all the time. As it was on his mind now as he was driving to the Consulate.
Several hours had passed. Fraser was settled securely at the safe house with Ray accompanying him. Huey and Dewey were situated across the street in the car. John Tyler was observing the area from his assigned post at the Consulate.
As Tyler sat in his car he thought he noticed a figure dart behind some bushes at the side of the consulate. He picked up his binoculars and trained them on the area where he had noticed the movement. There, he saw the bushes stir. Tyler quickly jumped out of the car and approached the consulate, his gun drawn. He quietly crept through the front gate and made his way to the side of the building, staying low. He saw a man crouching below a window. Tyler quickly ran up behind him. "Chicago PD, stay right there, hands in the air," he said sternly. The man started to turn around. Tyler yelled, "Don't move! I said hands in the air NOW!" The man complied. Tyler grabbed his arms and cuffed them behind him. He patted him down and pulled out some identification as well as a nine millimeter handgun. "Turn around," Tyler said to the man. The man turned slowly and smiled.
"I'm afraid I'm lost. Is this the Chicago tourist center?" The suspect asked innocently.
"Just shut up." Tyler looked at the ID. It was probably false, but it did say he was a Canadian citizen.
"Hello, Mr. Jake Harris," Tyler said as he read off the ID. What are you doing here?"
"I told ya'," the suspect replied, "I was looking for the tourist center."
"With a weapon?" Tyler asked.
"Well, I've heard such terrible things about violence in the big city, I brought that for protection." the suspect smirked.
"Just shut up a minute." Tyler said, his mind racing.
This could be it, Tyler thought. Pay back time. He remained silent for a few minutes. Yeah, this could work. Way ta' go, Tyler! He smiled and looked over to the suspect.
"You be honest with me and I may make it worth your while," Tyler said.
The suspect eyed Tyler suspiciously. "That depends," he replied.
Tyler smiled again. So, he's open to suggestion, he thought. This is just too easy. "Come on, let's go to my car. We gotta talk," Tyler said to Jake.
They both walked to Tyler's car, Jake walking in front with his hands cuffed behind his back, Tyler following with his gun trained on Jake. They got into Tyler's car and Tyler began to talk.
"Okay, let's go over it again," Tyler said, "I wanna make sure we covered all the bases."
Jake looked over towards Tyler, "Okay. I'm gonna grab Kowalski and bring him to the abandoned warehouse at 4th and Jackson....."
"That's 3rd and Jackson! Get it right!" Tyler yelled.
"Okay, okay, don't get your panties in a bunch." Jake shot back. He looked at his notes. "So I take him to the warehouse at THIRD and Jackson. Try to convince him to tell me where his buddy the Constable is. Try to convince him real hard. Keep workin' him 'til he passes out."
Jake paused. "How do ya' know he won't tell me where his partner is?"
"That asshole is like a devoted schnauzer. He'll die before he gives up his partner," Tyler replied.
Jake continued. "Okay, after he passes out, I wake him up and tell him that I appreciate his help in locating his partner. Convince him that he gave up his buddy, give him the location so he'll believe me. Then I tell him that I already did the Constable and it was easy 'cause of Kowalski's big mouth. Then I leave him at the warehouse, go to the safe house and really take care of business."
"Good, sounds good. Make sure you stick to the times I told ya'. You have to come to the safe house on my watch." Tyler cautioned.
"Don't worry. I got the times," Jake assured.
A thought just occurred to Tyler. "Wait a minute, I just realized, Gerrard's dead. Why do ya' haveta do the hit now? He won't know if you did it or not where he is."
"Gerard was a pretty smart guy. He made sure I wouldn't get all the money until after the job was done. I got half up front, the rest is comin' afterwards. His contact on the outside's takin' care of it." Jake replied.
"How do ya' know he'll pay?" Tyler asked.
"Oh, he'll pay alright. I made sure I found out who he was. If he don't pay me the money, then he'll pay another way."
"Okay," Tyler smiled, "I been waiting for this for a long time. It's show time."
Ray peeked out through the blinds at the safe house where Fraser was safely tucked away.
"Hey Frase?" He looked over towards Fraser, who was sitting at the table reading the newspaper.
"Yes, Ray." Fraser looked up.
"I want ya' ta know......." He stopped. Ray had always found it difficult to verbalize his feelings. He and Fraser hadn't talked too much about the current state of affairs except to discuss Welsh's orders. He wished he could be more like Fraser when it came to communicating his emotions verbally. He took a deep breath and continued.
"I want ya' ta know that I won't let this lowlife creep hurt ya'." He said quietly.
"I'm aware of that, Ray, and I appreciate your concern," Fraser replied.
"Besides," Ray added, "Frannie'd kill me."
Fraser smiled. "I'm sure you and Detectives Huey, Dewey and Tyler and Leftenant Welsh will have this matter resolved in short order."
"Hope so, Frase," Ray said. He looked at his watch. "Guess I should head out. You gonna be okay?"
"Of course, Ray. I have everything I need. And Detectives Huey and Dewey are right outside the front door," Fraser said.
"Well, I wouldn't place all my bets on that game, if ya' know what I mean." Ray replied.
Fraser looked at him questioningly. "Never mind, Frase. I wanna stay, but I gotta go to the airport ta see if I can find out anything about this hit guy. Then I gotta stop at my place and pick up some clothes. I'll come back after that. Can I bring ya' anything? A sandwich? Lichen burger?"
"No, thank you, Ray. I'll be fine," he gave Ray a sad smile. Fraser hadn't mentioned to Ray how he felt about this entire situation. He knew Ray was uncomfortable discussing feelings. But, the concept that the man who murdered his father was now, from beyond the grave, attempting to murder him, was totally foreign to him. He never understood that kind of revenge. He always believed that justice and the law were the highest retribution.
Ray put on his leather jacket and walked over to Fraser. He put his hand on Fraser's shoulder, "Okay, buddy, sleep good."
"Thank you, Ray, you too. I'll see you tomorrow," he paused. "Oh, yes and medium rare."
"Ray looked back from the door. "Medium rare? What's that supposed to mean?"
Fraser smiled. "I like my lichen burgers medium rare."
"You got it Benton buddy." Ray gave Fraser a small wave and walked out the door. He was halfway out when he opened it again, "Lock the door," he ordered.
"Yes, Ray," Fraser got up and locked the door behind Ray.
Jake was waiting in his rented car outside Ray's apartment. Tyler had told him Ray's apartment number, so Jake knew which parking space Ray would drive into. He parked his car directly behind Ray's space. He had been waiting about 45 minutes when he saw a car approaching from the street. Jake slumped down in the driver's seat and peered out the passenger window. A GTO. This was it. While Ray's car pulled up past his passenger side, Jake slipped out the driver's side door. He had disabled the courtesy light, so he could open the door unnoticed. Ray parked the GTO in his space, opened the door and stepped out. He heard someone say his name behind him. He turned around quickly while reaching for his gun. But before he could grab it, he felt a strong blow to the left side of his head. He fell to his knees and clutched his head in his hands, the car keys falling to the ground. Then he felt another blow to the back of his head. Then darkness.
Ray felt the cold water forcefully hitting his face. He tried to open his eyes, but found it difficult. His attention was immediately drawn to the distinct feeling of pain. Everywhere.
"Wake up, sleepy head," he heard a man say.
Ray tried to open his eyes, but even that was painful. He tried to take stock of his situation. His arms were hiked over his head. He could ascertain that he was kneeling, as his knees felt like they would burst. His head hurt. His sides hurt. His back hurt. Attempting to open his eyes hurt.
"HEY, OPEN YER FUCKIN' EYES!" Jake bellowed.
Ray forced his eyes open. It took a moment to focus. He saw a man with his entire face covered by a mask standing in front of him, grinning, his arms folded across his chest.
"Glad to see you decided to rejoin the living," Jake said. "I wanted ta thank you before I left."
"Who the hell are you? What're ya' talking about?" Ray managed to say in a hoarse voice, anger welling up inside him.
"Don't ya' remember?" Jake asked. We had such a nice chat, you and me. And you forgot already? My feelings are hurt," Jake feigned sulking.
Ray tried to bluff, "My partner's gonna show up any minute and........."
The man laughed loudly. "Your partner? You're a pretty funny guy, Detective. Your partner, Constable Benton Fraser, ain't no more thanks to you," he said.
Ray wasn't sure what he had just heard. "What the hell ya' talkin' about?" he spat.
"Don't ya' remember, Detective? You told me where your buddy was hiding out," Jake replied. "And I really do appreciate it 'cause it woulda taken me forever to find him if it wasn't for you."
"Yer a fuckin' liar!" Ray screamed.
Jake swung a bat and hit Ray hard in his stomach. "Don't you call me a liar, ya' smart ass little shithead!" he yelled at Ray.
Ray started gasping for air, his anger quickly dissolving into panic.
"I didn't tell you shit!" Ray forced out hoarsely. He felt himself becoming overcome with terror.
"Oh really?" Jake asked. "So I suppose a little birdie told me about the Beekman Hotel on York Street."
Ray was finding it extremely difficult to breath. He couldn't believe this was happening. He tried to remember, but he couldn't. He would never betray Fraser, his partner and best friend. But how else would this guy know about the Beekman?
Jake added, "yeah, it was a piece of cake. Just slipped in, popped him while he slept, and slipped out. Couldn't had done it without ya', Detective."
"No, no, I didn't........I wouldn't.......Fraser!" Ray cried.
"Well, it's been lovely chattin' with ya', Detective, but it's time for me to be leavin'." Jake grabbed Ray by his hair and yanked his head up. Ray struggled to stay conscious. Jake leaned over so their faces were inches apart. He sneered, "I guess ya' don't got too many friends, Detective. I wonder why." He let Ray's head drop down, turned and walked away, laughing loudly.
"No, please God, no," Ray sobbed. " Fraser."
It was time. Jake drove to 5th and York and parked the car around the corner from the Beekman Hotel. According to their plan, Tyler would be on surveillance allowing Jake easy access to Fraser's room to accomplish the job. It was early morning so there weren't too many people around. Jake walked towards the hotel and saw Tyler sitting in his car across the street. Jake nodded to him discreetly. Tyler nodded back. He disappeared into the front entrance. Tyler waited about five seconds, then walked quickly into the hotel. He saw Jake enter the stairwell and followed. He stayed well enough behind so Jake wouldn't hear or see him. Jake reached Fraser's door, took out his nine millimeter handgun, and prepared to open the door with his lock pick. Just then, Tyler appeared behind him, his gun drawn.
"Jake," he called quietly. Jake turned around quickly. At that moment, Tyler shot him through the heart. Jake looked at Tyler, an expression of shock and disbelief in his eyes. His face went blank as he sunk to the floor. Tyler ran up to him, kicked his gun away and felt his neck for a pulse. Jake was dead.
Fraser appeared at the door seconds later. He saw Jake lying on the floor with Tyler standing over him. Tyler spoke, "I had to do it. He was gonna kill you," he said defensively. Fraser saw the nine millimeter handgun a few feet away from Jake's body. He felt for a pulse. Nothing.
"I'll call Leftenant Welsh and request an investigation team," Fraser said as he turned back into the room. Tyler looked down at Jake's body. "You stupid shit," he said under his breath. He heard Fraser on the phone. He thought, Can it get any better than this? He was finally going to get even with Kowalski. Now Tyler would be the one receiving the commendations, the special assignments, the glory. And Kowalski, after everyone knew how he'd betrayed his partner, he would get exactly what he deserved.
Fraser, Welsh, Huey, Dewey and Tyler watched as the investigation team completed their work. Someone from the Coroner's office was removing Jake's body.
"Make sure you contact me when you ascertain this man's identity from his prints, " Welsh told an officer from the investigation team. He turned to Fraser. "Constable, did you try Ray's cell phone again?"
"Yes sir, still no answer," Fraser responded. "He had said he was going to the airport last evening, and then to his apartment to retrieve some clothes. I fully expected him to have returned much before now," Fraser said worrying about his partner.
"Hell, you know Kowalski," Tyler interjected, "probably had too much to drink last night and passed out," he snickered.
Fraser glared at Tyler, "Obviously you don't know Detective Kowalski, or you would appreciate his absence as being totally atypical of his behavior," Fraser shot back.
Fraser was worried about Ray. Ray knew the danger Fraser was in. If he had been detained for any reason, he would've called Fraser, Lieutenant Welsh or the other detectives. Fraser's thoughts were interrupted by a member of the investigation team who approached Lieutenant Welsh.
"I found this in the victim's pocket, sir," the officer said as he handed Welsh a small piece of paper. Welsh looked at the paper. On it was written three addresses, the Beekman Hotel's, one Welsh wasn't familiar with and Ray's address. It also had the number six on it. He handed the paper to Fraser who in turn handed it to the detectives.
"Get over to Kowalski's place now!" Welsh bellowed to Detectives Huey and Dewey. "The three of us will check out this other address."
They took off to their respective destinations.
The phone rang in Welsh's car. He answered it on speaker phone. It was Detective Huey. "Sir, no Kowalski but his car's here and we found his car keys on the ground."
"Thank you, Detective," Welsh replied. "We'll meet you back at the station later." A feeling of dread rushed over Fraser.
Lieutenant Welsh, Fraser and Detective Tyler entered the abandoned warehouse at 3rd and Jackson. The only light in the large room came from the windows that covered the rear wall by the ceiling. In the far right corner, they saw a man on his knees, his arms hiked up over his head. Fraser could recognize Ray's form from where they stood.
"Oh my God, Ray," he sprinted over towards the limp figure. The other men followed quickly.
Fraser was shocked when he saw Ray. His hands were cuffed over his head, dried blood on his arms from the cuffs cutting into his wrists. A rope was drawn though the cuffs suspended over a low pipe keeping his arms hiked in the air. He was on his knees, his ankles anchored to the floor with ropes tied to support beams. His shirt was tattered and soaked with blood. Ray's head was down, he was struggling to breathe. He was mumbling something. As Fraser came closer to Ray, he heard what he was saying, "Fraser. Sorry. I'm so sorry."
"Help me get him down!" Fraser shouted. He handed Welsh his knife, and while Fraser supported Ray's arms above his shoulders, Welsh cut the rope that was suspended through the hand cuffs. Fraser eased Ray to the floor while Welsh cut the ropes at Ray's ankles. Ray was in considerable pain, but he continued to repeat Fraser's name and how sorry he was.
"I called EMS, they'll be here in five minutes," Tyler said.
Fraser eased Ray onto the floor and sat him up against the wall. He took off his leather jacket and covered Ray with it. Ray's eyes were tightly closed. He wept still repeating, " Fraser, I'm so sorry."
Tyler purposely pointed this out to the other two men. "He keeps saying he's sorry to ya', Fraser. Why would he do that?" He turned towards Ray. "What are ya' so sorry for, Ray? Why do ya' keep apologizin' to Fraser?"
Fraser again glared at Tyler. He said angrily, "Detective, if you would so kindly......"
"'Cause I killed him!" Ray cried out.
Welsh and Fraser looked at each other questioningly. The large room was quiet except for Ray's labored breathing and cries of pain and regret.
"Ray, I'm fine, I'm right here," Fraser said in a soothing voice. "Open your eyes."
"He told me I gave Fraser up," Ray cried. I can't remember. I can't remember. He said it's causa me Fraser's dead. I betrayed him and I killed him. I killed Fraser!" Ray sobbed.
"Ray, open your eyes. It's me, it's Fraser. I'm right here. Open your eyes," Fraser willed Ray to open his eyes and look at him.
Tyler took the opportunity to jump in. "Man, he gave you up to the shooter." He tried to sound shocked.
"That hasn't been determined, Detective," Welsh shot at Tyler.
"Then, how did the shooter know where Fraser was?" Tyler asked almost smugly.
Ray continued with his cries of regret. Fraser was trying to prevail upon him to open his eyes.
"Ray, listen to me. It's Fraser, I'm here. I'm alright. Open your eyes."
Apparently, Ray heard Fraser this time. He slowly opened his eyes and turned his head towards Fraser's voice. "Frase?" he asked tentatively.
"Yes, Ray. It's me. I'm okay. Look at me," Fraser said determinedly.
Ray's eyes slowly focused on Fraser.
"Fraser," his eyes filled with tears. "Frase? Oh God, is it you?" he sobbed. Ray extended his hand and touched Fraser's face, trying to convince himself that Fraser was real. "Fraser." His hand dropped to Fraser's shirt collar. Ray clutched it tightly in his hand and used all his remaining strength to pull Fraser towards him. As Fraser leaned towards Ray, he buried his head between Fraser's neck and shoulder and began to sob. Fraser wrapped his arms around Ray's back and spoke to him soothingly, attempting to calm him down. Welsh and Tyler stepped back.
At that moment, two EMS paramedics walked into the warehouse. They quickly approached the men in the rear of the room and turned their attention towards Ray. Ray refused to release Fraser. He held onto him and stubbornly resisted the urgings of the paramedics to lie down. Fraser could only get Ray to comply by firmly clasping his hand during the examination.
Fraser accompanied Ray in the ambulance to Cook County Hospital with Welsh and Tyler following in Welsh's car. He continued to clutch Fraser's hand when they reached the hospital. Fraser finally managed to convince Ray to release his hand by assuring him that he would be directly outside the door.
Ray had to be taken into surgery. The three men waited patiently to learn of his condition, each caught up in his own thoughts. Finally, after more than two hours, they were approached by a doctor.
"Hello, I'm Dr. Conlon. I'll be responsible for Detective Vecchio's care while he's here," the doctor addressed all three men. "Are any of you family?" he asked.
Welsh spoke, "Well, Doctor, his family lives out of state. I'm Lieutenant Welsh, Detective Vecchio's commanding officer, and this is Constable Benton Fraser and Detective John Tyler." He glanced over to Fraser. "Constable Fraser and I will assume full responsibility for all decisions concerning the Detective's care."
"Very well Lieutenant." Dr. Conlon nodded towards Fraser and Tyler.
He continued. "Detective Vecchio's condition is stable, however, he has sustained severe injuries and will have to remain here for at least a week. He apparently was beaten with some sort of heavy object, a large belt perhaps, with a jagged metal tip, which caused numerous cuts and gashes on his torso, some requiring stitches. There was some internal bleeding which we repaired during surgery. We also mended his left lung that had been punctured by two of five cracked ribs. In addition, he received violent blows to the head causing a severe concussion. There was some slight swelling of the brain, but that should subside in a few days. It will take weeks before he's fully recovered. Is there someone who can care for him after he's released?" Dr. Conlon asked.
"Yes, Doctor, I can assume that responsibility," Fraser replied. "May we see him?"
"He's currently in recovery. I'll send a nurse to retrieve you when he's settled into a room. He'll be sleeping for the remainder of the day. The nurses will wake him every two hours, but I'm certain he'll be very disoriented and confused. You probably won't be able to speak with him for a while."
"Thank you, Doctor," Welsh said.
"You're welcome, Lieutenant. Constable." The doctor nodded to Tyler, turned and went back the ER.
Welsh addressed Tyler. "Constable Fraser and I will stay here. You can return to the precinct and finish up this case with Detectives Huey and Dewey. I'd like to have an ID on the shooter by the time I return."
"Yes sir," Tyler replied.
He turned to leave the hospital. Welsh and Fraser sat down to wait. Neither man spoke. Fraser took the opportunity to go over the events of the day in his mind. Things just didn't add up. He thought of what Ray had said in the warehouse. He told me I gave Fraser up. I can't remember. He said it's causa me Fraser's dead. Obviously, Ray didn't remember telling the shooter Fraser's location. Why would the shooter make a point of informing a battered Ray that he been instrumental in accomplishing his deadly act against Fraser? He obviously wanted to torment Ray. It seemed as if he had a vendetta against him for some reason. As far as Fraser knew, Ray didn't know the shooter, whose only motivation to kill Fraser was money. He surmised that whoever did this wanted to hurt Ray. So there was someone else involved other than the shooter. He thought about Detective Tyler and how he had purposely questioned Ray about his sobbing apologies to Fraser at the warehouse. Why would he do that? Fraser recalled Ray telling him that he and Tyler had some sort of falling out when they both worked at the 23rd precinct, but Ray hadn't gone into detail. He wondered if that was a factor in all of this. And then there was the piece of paper found in the shooter's pocket with the addresses on it. What did the number six mean? What did all of it mean?
Fraser thought about Ray. He knew how Ray had agonized over the fact that he had given up Fraser's location, if in fact he had. He had to impress upon Ray that he understood the suffering he had endured at the hands of his tormentor. He wouldn't have blamed Ray if he had finally broke down. He would not feel betrayed. He had to make him understand that.
Fraser's thoughts were interrupted by the nurse who led him and Welsh to Ray's room. The room had two beds, but Ray was the only patient, his bed on the far side next to the window. The two men walked over to Ray and each stood on either side of his bed. Ray was certainly a sight. Both his eyes were black in stark contrast to the pallor of his skin. His wrists were bound in bandages and an IV drip attached to his hand. Fraser could tell that his chest was draped in bandages under his hospital gown. Fraser studied Ray's face. He had a blank expression which hopefully meant he wasn't in any pain. He looked over towards Lieutenant Welsh. "Sir, I'm going to stay with Ray for a while. Why don't you return to the precinct. I'll call you if there's any change," he said.
Welsh hesitated. He looked at Ray and thought for a moment. Then he spoke, "Alright, Constable. I'm anxious to close this case."
Welsh looked down towards Ray again. He touched his arm lightly, then turned and left the room.
For the next three days Fraser stayed with Ray from early morning to late evening, returning to the Consulate overnights to accomplish some work, grab a nap, shower, change and visit briefly with Diefenbaker. Ray was suffering considerably from the effects of the concussion. He slept fitfully the majority of the time, the nurses waking him every two hours to monitor his condition. During his wakeful periods he was extremely confused and agitated, his speech garbled. He never acknowledged Fraser's presence. He was running a temperature and suffered several nosebleeds. Fraser was alarmed at his symptoms, but the doctor assured him that they were not unusual considering the severity of Ray's concussion.
It had been determined that the shooter's real name was William Hayes, and that he was suspected of seven other murders, both in the U.S. and Canada. Officially, the case was closed, but Fraser couldn't let it go. He knew in his heart that Ray would die before he would ever betray Fraser. He suspected John Tyler of being involved, but had no proof. He had to remain silent about his suspicions until he could find some concrete evidence. He was unable to get anything accomplished while at the hospital except to contemplate the events of the last few days. He would stare at Ray's face and remember finding him at the warehouse. Seeing Ray like that. It was extremely painful for him to think about.
It was the fourth day of Ray's hospital stay, and the for the first time, Ray had actually slept soundly through the night. The night duty nurse was now waking him much less frequently, and whenever she had, Ray awoke considerably alert. Before she had finished her shift, she told Fraser about Ray's improved condition when he had arrived early that morning. She was optimistic that he would awaken refreshed and lucid, as she had seen this pattern before in other patients. She told him to notify the on duty nurse as soon as Ray was completely awake.
Fraser was glancing out the window when he heard Ray stir. He quickly approached his bed. Ray's eyes were fluttering, he was moving his head slowly from side to side.
"Ray," Fraser said softly.
No response.
"Ray, it's Fraser."
Ray slowly opened his eyes and looked up at Fraser. It took a few moments for his eyes to focus.
"Frase? You okay?" he asked with a hoarse voice.
Fraser pressed the nurses' call button. "Yes, Ray, I'm fine. The question is, how are you?"
Ray ached all over. His head was pounding.
"I'm good," he whispered.
"Would you like some water?" Fraser asked him.
"Yeah, that sounds okay."
Fraser poured some water into a plastic glass, placed a straw into it and put it to Ray's lips. Ray took a few sips, then shook his head. "Thanks, Frase."
Just then the nurse entered. Fraser glanced towards her, "He's awake." he smiled.
The nurse returned Fraser's smile and proceeded to check Ray over, asking him questions to measure how alert he was. He knew what year it was, who the president was, Fraser's name, his name. He passed. She checked Ray's IV drip and said, "I'll notify the doctor. He'll be pleased that you're doing so well, Detective." She smiled down at Ray, nodded to Fraser and left the room.
Ray was lying with his eyes closed.
"How long I been here?"
"This is your fourth day, Ray. The doctor feels you can probably go home by the beginning of next week," Fraser attempted to sound cheerful.
After a long moment, Ray looked up at Fraser. "Whaddya doing here, Fraser?"
Fraser was caught off guard by Ray's unexpected question.
"Why, Ray, I'm concerned for your welfare. You're my friend. I........"
"No Fraser," Ray interrupted. "I'm not."
"Why of course you are, Ray." Fraser faltered.
"Don't act like nothing's changed, Fraser. You don't belong here." Ray was becoming upset.
"Ray, I........."
"No, Fraser. Don't say anything. Just leave." Ray turned his head away from Fraser.
"Ray, please nothing's changed. You......"
"The hell it didn't!" Ray winced in pain as he raised his voice. "Okay, Fraser, you want me to say it? Okay, I'll say it. I betrayed you. You almost got killed causa me. Happy now?" Ray closed his eyes tightly, his hands grasping the blankets tightly.
"Ray, you had suffered at the hands of a brutal........."
"Fraser, don't do this. You're making things worse. I want you to leave!" Ray almost shouted, he groaned in pain from his efforts and conflicting emotions.
Fraser didn't want to upset Ray anymore than he already had. Now was not the time to discuss this. He had to wait until Ray was feeling better.
"Alright, Ray, as you wish." Fraser hesitated for a moment, then turned to leave.
"And don't come back," Ray added, his eyes closed tightly.
Fraser retrieved his jacket from his chair, and walked quickly out of Ray's room. Once he was in the hall, he stopped and leaned against the wall for support. He had to hold back rising tears. He had hoped he could speak to Ray, but he didn't anticipate Ray's strong reaction to his presence. Fraser composed himself, and slowly made his way to the hospital exit.
Ray lay in his hospital bed, his eyes welling with tears. He was both ashamed of himself and angry with Fraser. It's just like that Mountie to say I'm his friend. I don't deserve it. I betrayed my partner and best friend. He closed his eyes tightly as the tears rolled freely down his face.
Fraser attempted to visit Ray several times, but Ray always turned away and ordered him to leave. Fraser was now confident that Tyler was the person responsible for hurting Ray. He had somehow hooked up with William Hayes and thought up this plan where each man accomplished their goals. However, because Tyler double crossed Hayes, Hayes plan was never realized. Unfortunately, Tyler's plan had been, and Fraser's partner and best friend was suffering for it. He finally decided to concentrate on obtaining the evidence he needed against Detective Tyler. He would then have something concrete to show Ray, and Ray would be compelled to listen.
Ray was released from the hospital the following week. He had lied to the doctor and told him his Mother was flying in from Arizona to care for him. Dr. Conlon recalled Fraser saying he would take responsibility for Ray's care, but when he questioned Ray about it, he replied that Fraser couldn't be called away from his duties at the Consulate. The next day, Ray called Lieutenant Welsh and told him he was submitting his resignation. Welsh tried to convince Ray to wait. He told Ray that he could not accept his resignation until he had recovered, telling him that he would submit it then, and hoping that in the interim he could change Ray's mind.
Fraser sat at his desk going over his evidence, or lack thereof, against John Tyler. He kept thinking about the number six on the piece of paper. He heard the phone ring in the reception area and glanced up at the clock. Suddenly he knew. It was as if a picture had been drawn for him. The number six on the piece of paper represented six o'clock. William Hayes had shown up at the Beekman shortly after 6AM to kill Fraser. And six o'clock was the time that John Tyler's surveillance shift began at the safe house.
Fraser's buzzer went off. He picked up the phone. It was Francesca. "Fraser, I need to speak to you." She hesitated. "It's about Ray."
Fraser and Francesca sat across the table from each other in observation room one.
"I went to see Ray last night," she said sadly.
"And how is he, Francesca?" he asked concerned about his friend.
"He......." Francesca paused, her voice was wavering. She waited a few moments until she was able to compose herself and then she continued.
"He's really bad, Fraser. He looks like he's lost about ten pounds. His apartment is a mess and so is he. I know he has food 'cause I looked. But he's just not eating. I'm scared if he continues like this he's gonna.........he's gonna..........." she began to cry. Fraser took her hand.
"I've tried to visit him, Francesca, but he refuses to see me."
"There's more, Fraser. He's having this recurring nightmare. He sees you walking towards him, and you have a gunshot wound in your chest and you just keep asking him over and over why he betrayed you. He's afraid to go to sleep. I tried to convince him to see the police psychologist, but he refused. He wouldn't let me do anything for him. He just told me to leave. Fraser, you have to do something!" she raised her voice.
"Alright, Francesca. I'll try again. Perhaps I can enlist the aid of his landlady if he refuses to allow me into the apartment."
Francesca smiled, tears in her eyes. "Thanks, Frase. You're probably the only person who can help him."
Fraser knew Francesca was right.
Fraser knocked on Ray's door, "Ray, open the door, it's Fraser."
There was no response from inside the apartment.
"Ray, please. I need to speak with you." Fraser pleaded.
"Go away, Fraser," Ray called back. "I told you before."
"Ray......."
"NO, Fraser, I said go away!" Ray shouted.
Fraser had had enough. He was angry. He raised his voice, "Ray, you WILL listen to me. I have reason to suspect that John Tyler is involved in your kidnapping. I believe he set you up, Ray. I'm fairly certain he's the one who told the shooter where I was and then implicated you as part of a plan of revenge." Fraser waited. Just as he was about to knock again, the door opened slowly. Ray stood in front of him, his head down. "Come inside, Fraser."
Fraser was shocked by Ray's appearance, but tried not to let it show. Francesca had been correct, Ray looked much thinner than before. But there was more. He face was pale and drawn, there were dark circles under his eyes. His hair was a mess, he hadn't shaved in days. He was wearing sweats that were stained with what looked like blood.
Fraser entered the apartment. It didn't fare too much better than Ray. There were newspapers and magazines strewn about the living room. There was a pillow and blanket on the couch. Apparently, Ray spent his time in this room, as he avoided sleep because of the recurring nightmare Francesca had told Fraser about.
Ray closed the door and approached Fraser slowly. He was still recovering from the injuries he had sustained at the hands of William Hayes. "What's this about John Tyler?" he asked coolly.
"Why don't we sit down and discuss it," Fraser replied. He wanted to run a hot bath for Ray, cook him a meal and clean up the apartment, but he knew they had to get this resolved first.
"Yeah, sure." Ray sat down on the couch while Fraser took the chair at the end.
Fraser told Ray how he had suspicions about Detective Tyler almost from the beginning. He told him about the piece of paper with the addresses and what he believed the number six meant. He spoke about Tyler's suspicious behavior when it came to Ray, and how Tyler had spoken disparagingly of Ray.
"So what do ya' plan on doin'?" Ray asked.
"I have to try and find some connection between John Tyler and the shooter, William Hayes, Fraser replied. I also intend to lean on Tyler and attempt to catch him slip. It may take some time."
"That's okay, I'm not goin' anywhere," Ray said.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
"Frase?" Ray asked hesitantly.
"Yes Ray."
"I know I acted crazy, but I couldn't face ya' after......"
"I understand, Ray," Fraser interrupted. "But that's over now."
"Yeah Frase, that's over. Thanks." Ray gave Fraser a tentative smile.
Fraser smiled back. "Now we clean up." He said cheerfully.
"No, Fraser. I didn't let you in here to do housekeeping." Ray admonished.
"Ray, I am not leaving until you've had a hot bath, put on clean clothes, eaten a hot meal and this apartment is clean." Fraser said in a stern voice.
"I suppose ya' got yer mind made up," Ray said.
"Yes, Ray."
"Okay, you win, but I'm lettin' ya win this time."
"Understood."
Ray rose from the coach and approached his bedroom. Fraser followed. Ray stopped and turned to face Fraser. "And thanks for believin' in me, Fraser."
"It's what friends do for each other," Fraser replied smiling.
Fraser spent the remainder of the day at Ray's apartment, getting things back in order and attempting to further smooth out their relationship after the very rough patch they had endured. Fraser had cooked a delicious dinner, and after they ate, they settled on the couch, Ray drinking coffee, Fraser with a cup of tea. Fraser was satisfied with the amount of food Ray had eaten. If he could get him to eat this way everyday, Ray could succeed in regaining the weight he had lost in a couple of months.
Fraser glanced over towards his partner. Ray was gazing at the steam rising from his coffee. Fraser figured now was the time to discuss it.
"Ray," he said quietly.
Ray looked up from his coffee cup. "Yeah, Frase?"
"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly.
"Jeez, Frase. I can't remember anything about it, well about the beatin' anyway. The doctor said it was 'cause of the concussion. The last thing I remember is getting outta my car. And the next thing, this creep is telling me that I told him where the safe house was and that he had gone and .........." Ray stopped talking.
"That he had killed me, Ray?"
"Yeah, that," he practically whispered.
"Francesca told me about your recurring nightmare" Fraser said. "She said you're afraid to go to sleep."
"Ya' know, Frase, I think I'm havin' that dream partly 'cause I'm missing that piece of my life. It didn't last long in terms of time, but it was an important part. Maybe if I knew what happened to me, the nightmare would go away," Ray speculated.
"Do you really feel you would want to know what happened?" Fraser asked.
"Yeah, it's too important not to," Ray responded.
"Well then, I think maybe you should seek some help."
"You mean sleeping pill help?" Ray asked. He knew what Fraser meant.
"No, Ray, professional help."
"Ferget it, Fraser!" he barked.
"Look, Ray, a psychologist could help you remember, perhaps hypnotize you ........."
"I said, ferget it! I don't need professional help. Besides, now that I know Tyler probably set me up, maybe the dream'll stop."
Fraser thought for a moment. Actually, what Ray was saying did make some sense. "Alright, Ray. But I want you to promise me that you'll tell me if you have that dream again."
"Yeah sure, Frase. I promise. But I'm not goin' to no shrink." He insisted.
"Understood."
Lieutenant Welsh was sitting at his desk at the 27th precinct. It was 7pm and he had case files to review. Every so often his mind would drift to the situation with Ray. Fraser had discussed his suspicions about John Tyler with Welsh earlier in the week. Welsh had told Fraser to continue his investigation off the record as the case was officially closed, plus he didn't want to rouse Tyler's suspicion. It burned Welsh's blood to think that Tyler would commit such a hateful attack upon a fellow officer, especially when that officer happened to be Ray Kowalski.
There was a knock on his office door which he had left open. He looked up to see his old friend, Sam Majors standing in the doorway. Sam was an investigator with the FBI.
"Sam, how the Hell are ya'? Come on in." Welsh greeted him enthusiastically.
"Harding, good to see you. It's been a while," he replied. They shook hands.
"Have a seat," Welsh offered. "What brings ya' here?"
"Well, Harding, I have something here for you that's pretty big," he said. "Involves that case with your guy and the Constable and the shooter from Canada."
Welsh leaned forward in his chair. "Ya' got something on that?" he asked.
"Yes, and as I said, it's pretty big." He paused.
"Well, what is it, Sam?" Welsh asked impatiently.
Sam reached into the breast pocket of his trench coat and pulled out a videotape. He carefully laid it on Welsh's desk.
"Again I ask, what is it, Sam?" Welsh prodded. "And don't say it's a videotape."
"I'm currently involved in a huge case involving stolen weapons. As part of the investigation we've set up hidden video surveillance in various warehouses throughout the city. The cameras aren't manned, but the tapes are collected every three to four weeks and viewed for the purpose of gathering evidence. Well, Harding, the warehouse your guy was in is one of our surveillance locations. We got everything that went down on this tape," he pointed towards the videotape on Welsh's desk.
Welsh's eyes grew large. "That could prove to be very significant to our investigation, " he said.
Sam continued, "have you identified all three players? I know the vic was your guy and the assailant was the shooter, but who's the third guy?"
Welsh almost fell off his chair. "There's a third guy?"
"Okay, Harding. I guess you better watch the tape then. Look, I've cleared this with my superiors, so you can use the tape in any court proceedings. Just leave my name out of it." Sam cautioned Harding.
"Sure, whatever." Welsh was anxious to view the tape.
"Just be prepared, it gets pretty rough," Sam added.
"I figured it wasn't a day at the beach for my guy. But thanks for the warning," Welsh countered.
They shook hands and Sam left. Welsh closed his office door and locked it. He made sure all the blinds were closed. Then he turned on the television and the VCR, inserted the videotape and sat down to watch it.
Fraser had just returned to the consulate from Ray's apartment. Ray was extremely tired and agreed to sleep in his bedroom for the first time since he had returned from the hospital. Fraser had wanted to stay, but Ray insisted that he leave. He said he didn't need a baby sitter. Fraser would only go if Ray promised to call him in the event he had the nightmare again, to which he had agreed. He had taken Ray's cell phone in case Ray needed him when he wasn't at the consulate.
Fraser had just settled behind his desk preparing to go over some reports when his phone rang. It was Lieutenant Welsh.
"Constable, I need you to come to the precinct immediately. Don't walk. Grab a cab."
"Yes sir." He hung up the phone concerned about the urgency of the Lieutenant's voice.
Fraser arrived at the precinct and found Welsh behind his desk. The lieutenant told him about the videotape and the conversation he had had with his FBI friend. But he didn't tell him about the third person on the tape.
"Constable, I want to warn you that this will be difficult to watch."
"I understand that, sir," Fraser replied.
"Understand also that there is some very important evidence on this tape and that's why I'm showin' it to you."
"Understood, sir."
"Well, then, if you don't mind, Constable, I caught the early show. I'll come back in an hour when it's over. Lock the door after me," he said to Fraser.
Welsh left the office with Fraser locking the door as ordered. He then began to play the tape.
Fraser watched in total horror as he saw Hayes beating Ray with the leather strap and serrated metal edge. Several times he had to look away. He almost became ill from the emotional toll of watching. Hayes repeatedly beat Ray while demanding he tell him where the safe house was. And Ray repeatedly had refused to tell him. Fraser watched as Ray slowly succumbed to the brutal assault. Finally, Ray had passed out. He watched as Hayes made a call on his cell phone. Several minutes later, another man arrived. His back was to the camera, but Fraser knew who he was. Detective John Tyler. He heard Hayes telling Tyler that everything was proceeding as planned, and that he was about to revive Ray to tell him the "tragic news" as Hayes put it. Tyler laughed. Fraser wanted to reach into that television and grab Tyler by his scrawny neck. The two men shook hands and Tyler left. The rest of the tape showed Hayes throwing a bucket of water into Ray's face to revive him. And then there was the conversation where he informed Ray that he had given Hayes the location of the safe house. Again, Fraser almost became ill. His heart went out to his partner. Of course he had known that Ray had endured a severe beating, but watching it as it occurred was torture of another kind. Fraser heard the anguish in Ray's voice when Hayes told him Fraser was dead because of him. He now understood why Ray didn't want him at the hospital, and why he had become so angry when Fraser called him his friend. Underneath that tough guy facade, Ray was an incredibly sensitive and loyal man, and Fraser found that he sometimes had to remind himself of that, as Ray didn't allow those qualities to reach the surface very often.
Lieutenant Welsh and Fraser sat in Welsh's office and discussed what they had just seen on the tape. Welsh was spitting nails, he was so angry. Fraser was experiencing more a feeling of despondency. He thought about how Gerrard had started this entire mess with his need for revenge against Fraser. And how it had been twisted into something just as ugly by Tyler's need for revenge against Ray. It made him feel sick and extremely sad.
"Constable," Welsh said, snapping Fraser away from his thoughts, "I intend to inform Detectives Huey and Dewey about our resident dirt bag, Tyler, and I want him arrested tomorrow in the squad room in front of the entire division."
Fraser resisted the urge to smile, "Yes sir. I will arrive first thing in the morning."
"Very good, Constable."
"Now, what about Ray, sir?" Fraser asked.
"What about him?"
"I feel I should inform him of the existence of this videotape and allow him the option of viewing it." Fraser said.
Welsh was incredulous. "And what possible benefit would that serve, Constable?"
"Well, sir, Ray doesn't remember anything about the assault........."
"You mean torture," Welsh interrupted.
"Yes sir." Fraser continued. "He doesn't remember anything about it, and this evening when I went to his apartment he expressed............."
"You were at his apartment, Constable?" Welsh asked, encouraged by that bit of news.
"Yes, sir. I had expressed my concerns about Detective Tyler through the door and Ray allowed me to enter. We have since come to a mutual understanding........"
"You mean you're friends again," Welsh interrupted for a third time.
"Yes, sir."
"And partners I presume?" Welsh was relieved at what he was hearing.
"Yes, sir. I believe Ray will consent to returning to work especially after learning about the existence of this tape." Fraser said.
"So, Constable, go on with what you were saying. Why do you think Ray should watch this tape?"
"Well, sir, I was saying that Ray doesn't remember anything about the assau.....torture, and he has expressed an interest in knowing what had occurred. In addition he has been suffering from a recurring nightmare which may be alleviated by his learning about the events of that day."
"Well, Constable, you know him better than anyone else. I'll defer to your judgement," Welsh stated.
"Thank you, sir."
At that instant, Ray's cell phone rang. Fraser had placed it on Welsh's desk. He answered it.
"Detective Vecchio's phone, Constable Benton Fraser speaking."
"Hey, Frase. I had that dream again." Ray said quietly.
"I'll be right over, Ray."
Fraser arrived at Ray's apartment a short time later. He opened the door almost before Fraser knocked. He was nervous and edgy. Ray had been hoping that since he now knew about Tyler possibly setting him up, he wouldn't experience that dream again. Unfortunately, that hadn't been the case. He took his disappointment out on Fraser.
"Ya' really didn't haveta come over, Fraser. Just cause I had that dream again." Ray sounded annoyed.
"Well, Ray we had agreed that if you experienced the dream again, that I'd come over."
"No, Fraser, I said I'd call ya'. I didn't expect ya' to come hightailin' it over here. Havin' ya' here isn't gonna keep me from dreamin' it again." Ray slouched down on the couch.
Fraser decided to disregard Ray's mood and tell him about the tape. He sat down on the couch next to him.
"Ray, there's something I need to tell you. It's quite important," he said.
"Yeah, Frase, what? Did the ice queen promote ya' to senior errand boy?" Ray realized how cruel that sounded as soon as it came out of his mouth.
"Sorry, Frase, I didn't mean that." He paused, "It's just that I'm not sleepin', ya' know, and I was sorta hopin' that maybe tonight I'd be able to get some sleep. Sorry I'm takin' it out on you."
"That's quite alright, Ray," he replied. He knew it was more a dig at Inspector Thatcher than at him.
"What's so important that ya' need to tell me?" Ray returned to the matter at hand.
Fraser told Ray about the videotape that Welsh's FBI friend had brought to his office. He told Ray what was on the tape, including the appearance of Detective John Tyler. This was the proof they needed that Tyler had set Ray up. He told him that the tape also proved that Ray had never told Hayes where Fraser was, despite the severe beating he had endured. Fraser proceeded to tell him Welsh's plan to arrest Tyler in the squad room witnessed by the entire division. Ray was silent as Fraser recounted the facts of the scenario. After a few minutes he spoke.
"I never knew Tyler hated me so much," he said sadly. He gave Fraser a sideways glance. "What did Lieutenant Welsh say about Tyler?"
"Leftenant Welsh had urged me earlier in the week to continue my investigation of Detective Tyler's possible involvement. When I told him of my suspicions, he wanted to hang Tyler up by his thumbs until he confessed to hurting you."
Ray nodded slowly, a slight smile fell across his lips upon hearing that about Lieutenant Welsh. "So where's this tape?" he asked.
"I have it with me, Ray. Do you feel you need to see it?"
Ray didn't answer immediately. He thought about the recurring nightmare and how he couldn't remember what had happened to him.
"I think I have to," he replied hesitantly.
"Ray," Fraser cautioned, "I have to warn you that it was extremely difficult for me and Leftenant Welsh to view this tape. Bear in mind that for you it may be.........."
"I know, Fraser. But I can't stand not remembering," he said.
"Alright Ray, but I want you to hold onto the remote control and stop the tape whenever you need to," Fraser was concerned about how his partner would react.
"Yeah, yeah okay, Frase. Thanks." Ray again was impatient with Fraser, although he didn't mean to be. He hoped Fraser understood how nervous he was. He sat back on the couch and watched as Fraser removed the videotape from his jacket pocket. He wasn't sure he had made the right decision. But as Fraser had said, he could always stop the tape.
Fraser set everything up and handed the remote to Ray. He sat on the chair at the end of the couch so he could monitor Ray in the event he would require his assistance. Ray pressed the "play" button on the remote and the tape began.
Fraser kept his eyes trained on Ray. He had no desire to view the tape again. Just hearing it was making him feel ill. Ray's apparent reaction to the unfolding events on the tape was not what Fraser had expected. He had thought Ray would have turned the VCR off at least once already. Occasionally, Ray would look away or run his hand nervously through his hair. But other than that, he sat and watched the tape quietly. When Detective Tyler appeared, he sat forward slightly, but then resumed his previous position.
The tape ended and there was silence in the room. Finally Fraser spoke.
"Ray, are you alright?" he was very concerned about his partner.
Ray didn't respond. Fraser waited a few moments and spoke again. "Ray, please talk to me," he said somewhat firmly.
Ray wouldn't look over towards Fraser. He put his elbow on the couch's arm rest and laid his his forehead on his hand. Fraser tried again, "Ray?"
Finally Ray spoke, "Frase, I can't........" his voice wavered.
Fraser rose from the chair and approached Ray. He sat down next to him and put his arm around Ray's shoulders. Ray still wouldn't look at him. "It's alright, Ray, you don't have to talk," Fraser said softly.
"I ..... I...." Ray's voice faltered. Fraser could see that Ray was quietly crying now, his head still resting on his hand. He began to rub Ray's back, trying to comfort him.
"It's okay, Ray, you don't have to say anything," Fraser repeated soothingly.
"I uh.....I think I'm gonna be sick." Ray jumped off the couch and ran towards the bathroom.
Fraser remained on the couch. He heard ray coughing and retching up his dinner. He waited until he heard the toilet flush. Then he approached the bathroom. The door was slightly open and he could hear Ray going through the medicine cabinet. He waited a while longer until he couldn't hear anything.
"Ray, do you need any assistance?" he asked, very concerned.
A few moments passed.
"Um, I'm okay, Frase. I just, ya' know, didn't feel too good before, but I'm better now," Ray replied, his voice shaky.
"May I come in?"
"Uh, yeah, sure."
Fraser slowly pushed the door open. Ray was leaning on the sink holding himself up with one hand and holding an open bottle of mouthwash in the other. He glanced over towards Fraser and gave him a sad smile. He was extremely pale, and appeared as if he were about to topple over. Fraser entered the bathroom. He pointed to the bottle of mouthwash.
"Are you through with that?"
"Yeah, Frase. Hit the spot, sometimes ya' just need a shot of somethin' minty," Ray tried to sound upbeat.
Fraser smiled. He took the bottle from Ray and placed it on the edge of the sink. At that point, Ray began to sway. Fraser quickly grabbed his arm with his right hand and swung his left arm around Ray's waist to steady him.
"Whoa, sorry there Frase, the room started to move there for a minute," Ray faltered.
"You should lie down, Ray."
Ray didn't protest as Fraser led him to the bedroom. He helped him sit on the edge of the bed and sat down next to him. Ray sat slumped, his head hung, his hands resting on his lap.
"Can I get you anything, Ray? A glass of water perhaps?" Fraser asked.
"Uh, no thanks, Frase, I think I.............." Ray paused.
Fraser waited, but Ray didn't continue.
"Ray?"
Ray put his hand over his eyes and began crying. Fraser immediately put his arm around Ray and gently rested the blonde's head on his shoulder. Ray didn't resist. He turned his face into Fraser's shoulder and continued to cry quietly. Fraser didn't say anything; he just allowed Ray to release his pent up emotions. A few minutes passed. Ray stopped crying. Fraser reached over to the night stand and retrieved a few tissues and handed them to Ray.
"Thanks, Frase." He blew his nose and wiped his eyes. "Sorry, Frase." he said quietly.
"You don't have to apologize, Ray. There's nothing to be sorry for."
"Yeah, well, when ya' look at what I did to yer shirt, you'll change yer tune," Ray continued to wipe his eyes.
Fraser smiled at Ray's attempt to lighten the moment. "I want to thank you, Ray," he said.
"For making a mess of yer shirt?"
"For protecting my life with your own. Not too many people would do that," Fraser said.
Ray hesitated. "You would........fer me." He looked into Fraser's eyes.
"In a second," Fraser replied returning Ray's gaze.
"Yer welcome, Frase." After a moment, Ray stood up.
"Where are you going, Ray?"
"Well, Frase, I thought I'd just head out to the living room. I don't think I wanna be in the same room with ya' when you notice what yer shirt looks like."
Fraser laughed. Ray slowly made his way to the living room and deposited himself on the couch. A few moments later, Fraser appeared.
"Would you like some tea, Ray?" he asked as he walked to the kitchen.
Ray looked over towards Fraser, rose from the couch and went over to sit on a counter stool behind the breakfast bar.
"Make that a double, Frase. I think I need it." Ray said.
"Right you are."
The next day Fraser arrived at the 27th precinct early. He waited patiently in Lieutenant Welsh's office for Detectives Huey and Dewey to arrive. He was ready for this. This was his revenge. He had stopped by Ray's apartment on his way to the precinct. Ray was in good spirits. He told Fraser that he had slept the entire night without having the nightmare. Fraser was extremely relieved to hear that. Ray had convinced him to leave Diefenbaker with him. Dief was excited at the prospect of spending the day with Ray. Fraser had pretended he hadn't seen Ray slip Dief a donut while they sat over coffee at Ray's kitchen table. Before he left, he had managed to pull Diefenbaker aside and instruct him not to run Ray too hard as he was still recovering from his injuries.
Fraser's thoughts were interrupted by the arrival of Detectives Huey and Dewey.
"I've instructed Francesca to call me when Tyler arrives," Welsh said. "At which point Detectives Huey and Dewey can do their thing." Welsh seemed to be enjoying this. A few minutes later, the phone rang. Welsh picked it up. "Thank you, Ms. Vecchio," he said, nodding to the other men in the room. He hung up the phone. "Shall we, Gentlemen?" They followed him out to the squad room. Tyler was standing by his desk, looking over his mail.
"Detective Tyler," Welsh called to him as the four men approached, "a minute of your time."
He looked up warily at Welsh and associates. "Yes sir?"
Welsh continued. "There's an important matter Detectives Huey and Dewey need to apprise you of immediately."
Tyler turned his attention to the two men to whom Welsh had just referred. "What?" he asked impatiently.
Huey began to speak. "John Tyler, you are under arrest for conspiracy, kidnapping, assault on a police officer and first degree murder." As Huey spoke, Dewey walked behind a stunned Tyler, yanked his arms behind his back and cuffed him. All eyes in the room were on the five men in the middle of the bull pen, everyone wondering if they had heard correctly.
"Read him his rights, Detective," Welsh said smiling, his eyes trained on Tyler.
At that moment, Tyler exploded with a stream of obscenities. Two other detectives had to assist Huey and Dewey in restraining him as they led him from the squad room.
Lieutenant Welsh and Fraser watched as they disappeared behind the doors. "Welsh said, "Well, Constable, at least I can say this for the man. He puts on a helluva show."
Three weeks had passed since Tyler had been arrested for his crimes, for which he had been indicted. It was early Monday morning. The door opened to the squad room. Ray Kowalski entered tentatively, Fraser at his side, Diefenbaker bounding into the room behind them. This was Ray's first day back to work, and he had admitted to Fraser that he had experienced some trepidation about seeing everyone again. As they made their way to their usual corner, Ray's eyes were drawn to a large banner suspended above his desk. "WELCOME BACK, RAY". He stopped in his tracks and stared. He thought he heard someone clapping. At that moment, the entire room erupted into thunderous applause, people cheering and whistling. Ray looked over towards the center of the squad room and saw everyone standing, applauding and looking at him. He glanced over his shoulder at Fraser, who was also applauding and smiling broadly. Ray was overwhelmed with the sight of all his colleagues saluting him in this manner. He smiled shyly and looked down towards the floor. Welsh was leaning in the doorway of his office, watching the scene in his squad room. As the noise subsided, Ray made a sweep of the room with his eyes and thanked everyone quietly. He turned, and as he continued to his desk, his co-workers came up to him, one by one, welcoming him back. Francesca had kissed him. It took all his strength to keep his composure. When he finally reached his desk, he found a large greeting card that read "We Missed You" on the cover. Inside, everyone had signed their names, some writing their own personal greeting.
Ray sat down at his desk, Fraser depositing himself in his usual chair opposite Ray. He watched as Ray read the card. He saw Ray quickly wipe his eyes a few times.
"Ray."
Ray looked up. Fraser was holding out a handkerchief. He took it.
"Thanks, Frase."
At that moment Lieutenant Welsh came out of his office. He looked over towards Ray and Fraser. "Vecchio, Constable, in my office please. I have a case for you." Welsh turned and returned to his desk. Fraser and Ray rose from their chairs and smiled at each other as they approached Welsh's office.
The End
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