The Bogeyman
By Peaulp Deault
peaulp.deault@sympatico.ca
Rated PG for 4-letterLangage

*
I'm going to tell you what I remember most about that time, what little I saw of it anyway. I remember the evening I tagged along for a little apartment hunting. It didn't amount to much, it simply stood out as a sign for things that could have been instead, of what came barrelling along instead.

"Okay, so you know this is the last place I'm taking you." The Yank - the other Yank - was driving Benton from one potential apartment after another. I was glad when they kept moving. I hadn't liked any of the places they saw. It was a good evening, not warm enough to be spring yet but there was a carpet of green everywhere, enough to make some of the neighbourhoods in Ben's circled paper look better. Not by much, mind you, but it was close.

I suspect Ben knew how irritated the first Ray used to get when he badgered him too often for rides. He didn't tell this Ray that he was thinking of renewing his driver's licence for Chicago, maybe even buy his own car. His bank had recently informed him that he had been promoted to gold status as a customer. He had big dollars saved up - Canadian dollars, but big bucks just the same - and he felt like doing something with it. I, for one, was glad he was looking for new accommodations. The closet was delightful as an office but it was becoming awfully cramped as living quarters.

"I have worse stuff I oughta be doing," Ray added, "So maybe this isn't so bad after all."

"Worse stuff? As in what?"

"I don't want to go into it, Fraser. I get itchy just thinking about it. Where's this last place you wanted to see?"

"One block south. Perhaps if you told me what it was you don't want to do --- Ray, that was a crosswalk."

"You see anyone within a mile of crossing?"

"No, but you could have eased up on your speed."

"No more lectures, Fraser. I drive like I drive, that's that." He drove worse than the first Yank and that was saying a lot. "Look, if I tell you what it is I don't want to do, you have to promise no more lectures."

"I promise."

"Okay. Taxes."

"Taxes?"

"Taxes. Six years worth. I got an audit coming up and I haven't gone near my taxes in six years."

Ben's chin dropped, he opened his mouth to speak. "Six---"

"You promised."

"But six years, Ray? And that's not a lecture, it's more like a display of disbelief that someone as intelligent and financially responsible as you could ever---" That was my boy. Even in denial, he could deliver the goods with the best of them. "Come on, Fraser, knock it off."

"I'm sorry. Do you mind telling me why you have neglected your taxes for so long?" "Yeah. I hate doing them. It's like doing homework, it never goes away. It stays around and haunts you until you get nuts. It's like doing laundry, I hate doing that too. I never been good with deadlines, you know. I could never start stuff until it was too late cause I was afraid that I wouldn't be able to do it. Like it's this big mental block and boom, I'm outa there. Just keeps piling up and up and up."

"You know, Ray, if you could try to keep on top of it, it won't seem as intimidating when you have to go back to it. You must have encountered this kind of deadline before, in school, in college, certainly. How did you cope with it then?"

Ray's shoulders rose, then fell. I could tell he didn't want to tell Benton that he was one of the worst students to walk the halls of lower and higher education. I suspect he didn't like anyone knowing the kind of difficulty he had learning, let alone accomplishing.

I found out this much about him in the short time I'd had to get used to Yank Number two. I didn't trust him as much as the first one. The first Yank had confidence in himself, he gave you something to trust. This one, I don't know, he just didn't seem to think he was worth as much. Maybe he wasn't.

"Just got lucky, I suppose."

"Perhaps you'll get lucky again."

"I don't think so. Every time I have to sit down in front of it I get this big mental block. Then I gotta read a magazine or something and the next thing you know I'm cleaning my shoes."

"I could help you out. I've been known to file the successful tax return in my time. Well, Canadian, that is."

"No thanks. Come hell or low water, I'm going to get through that pile myself if it kills me, which it just might but what the hell. See, that's the other thing about this stuff. I never know what the hell it's like to do it myself cause it's been so damn long since I've finished anything myself. But I will. Like I said, hell or low-"

"High," Benton corrected before he could stop himself. Oh, I keep telling him to stop doing that. It's an annoying habit, it is. God only knows where he gets it from.

"What?"

"Actually, it's hell or high water. But either one works, Ray. And I understand your point."

"Good, cause I'm getting antsy with this conversation. Are we done with the apartments for now? I don't like this neighbourhood already. Too many bad drivers."

"Actually, I had a good feeling about that last place. I liked the park across from the building. I think Diefenbaker would enjoy having a central place to meet with other animals, really become part of a community. He doesn't get many interactions at the Consulate. I think it's time he felt a part of his world instead of being something transitory." Transitory. There he went, doing it again, using those inane words when the four - five, tops - letter kind would have sufficed just as well.

"Fraser, how can he not have interaction at that mausoleum you call home? There's like a million people running through there every day and he licks at least half of them. The other half he probably just whizzes on."

"That's my point. People in, people out, very few on a truly consistent level. He's moved around so much he hasn't had an opportunity to settle down, make friends, ones he can keep."

He didn't see the sideways look Ray was throwing him and he wouldn't have cared. I don't know if Ben identified it at the moment, but what he was feeling at that moment was optimism.

Roots, maybe it was time for some roots. I'd been telling him that for months, but why listen to me. He'd come to it on his own and he did.

*
The next morning, Ben got a call from Lieutenant Welsh asking him to come down to the precinct. I didn't have anything else to do so I tagged along. Ben walked into the station but he didn't head straight for the Yank's desk as he normally does. He made an unusual b-line for the Lieutenant's office. He didn't see Kowalski glance up from that desk of his - the one covered in more paper than I'm sure was legally allowed - and wave him over. Ray seemed as though he would have been grateful for the distraction but instead of heading for Ray's desk and plunking himself down, my son went to Lieutenant Welsh's office, knocked once and disappeared inside.

"Same here," Ray mumbled and went back to whatever in the hell it was he was trying to sort through.

Those other two fellows, Huey and Dewey walked by with smirks on their faces. Dewey had a popsicle in his mouth. "Hey, Jack, wanna go and catch some criminals or something?" He made a point of asking this loudly.

"Maybe later, I have to finish my reports--" Huey stopped and smiled. "Oh, I forgot, I did all my work. I was only two months behind." The two men smiled sweetly at Ray. "Guess we can go catch some bad guys after all."

"Hardy ha ha, now get out of here," Ray snarled.

Dewey looked at his partner. "Shall we?"

Huey smiled back. "Lets."

And, smugly, they made their exit from the room.

"Identical freaks," Ray grumbled and tried to remember what part of the page he had been avoiding.

Reports, oh, I relished them. I could bang out a simple yet accurate report that would knock the other Sergeants' boots off. I never once had any difficulty keeping up with my paper work. Discipline, I suppose. It's all in the discipline.

Twenty minutes later, the door to Welsh's office opened and Benton emerged. Welsh followed him out the door, shook his hand and looked as if he was trying to find something nice to say.

I used to worry that Benton would see a father figure in this fellow that he couldn't see in me. I don't worry anymore. The Lieutenant never gives the impression of wanting a 'Son' figure and if he did, I doubt my Canadian boy would be the easiest to adopt. The man could always start with those two Duck-named lads, teach them a thing or two.

Ray put down the car magazine he was reading, covered it with a stray file, and went over to the doorway. "Hey, Frase."

Benton didn't hear him and kept walking.

"Fraser - wait up!" Ray grabbed his shoulder and whirled him around. "Whoa - what's wrong?"

Benton stopped. His mind was far away from whatever was going on in front of him.

"You look funny. You okay?"

"What?" Ben came back. "Oh. Yes. Fine. I'll see you later, Ray."

He turned to go and he was followed again.

Ray was like the puppy that wouldn't go away. "You hungry, Fraser? Let's go get some lunch."

Benton didn't stop walking.

Ray kept up with Ben's unusual fast pace and tried again. "What the hell went on in there? Welsh deport you or something?"

"No."

"Then what?"

"Nothing. Just some old business." Ben stopped at the door. "Everything's fine. I have a lot of work to do. Actually, don't you as well?"

"Yeah. So?" he called pointlessly after him. "What's your point?"

But Benton was out of sight and in no mood to answer him anyway.

"This is going to mean some hot water for you, Son," I pointed out. My God, but he could walk quickly when he wanted to. He was going down the stairs two at a time, as if the building was on fire.

"I don't want to talk about it," he snapped over his shoulder.

I didn't say anything else until we were out of the building and back into the sunshine. "You may not want to but you're going to have to."

"Go away."

He was at the curb and I truly thought for a moment that he was going to cross on a red light just to get away from me. "Now, Son, I'm not saying anything you don't know. This has come back and you're going to have to deal with it once and---"

And this is where I saw that look, the one on his face that told me he was beyond any port of reason. He pointed his finger at me and started shaking it in my face. "You listen to me, Dad, and you listen very closely. What the Lieutenant told me is not up for discussion. Not with you. Not ever. Do you understand me?"

He didn't wait for an answer. I knew he wouldn't. I watched him turn and cross the street - against traffic - to the other side of the road. In a moment, he was all but out of sight.

Fine. I could take a hint.

*

I went back and saw Kowalski go into the Lieutenant's office. True to form, he didn't bother knocking. That's the kind of thing the other Yank would have paid attention to. He would have knocked. This one didn't seem to have that particular skill for waiting.

"Hey, Lieutenant, what's the matter with Fraser?"

The Lieutenant didn't look up from his paper work. "Not now, Detective."

"The guy left here looking like someone jumped him in the can. What'd you tell him?"

This time he raised his head. "Nothing I'm talking to you about. I got a lot of work here, Kowalski, so if you got a problem with Fraser acting funny, you talk to Fraser. Okay? Good. Don't let the door hit you now,"

"But-"

Welsh waved his hand as if it were a wand. "Later, Detective."

*

I heard Kowalski return to the consulate that evening. He was talking to Turnbull in the foyer. Turnbull. Another one of life's mysteries. We had someone like him in my first posting. Poor soul never did find out what happened to all of his underwear. Oh well.

"Where's Fraser?"

"Out," Turnbull replied as he packed up for the night.

Ray sighed. "Out anyplace in particular or out as in you don't know."

"I don't know when he'll be back but you're welcome to wait. Is he expecting you?"

"Yeah, he wanted me to drive him around to see more apartments, so here I am, but if he can't bother to show up, maybe I'll bail too."

"As you wish." Turnbull walked past him. "You'll lock up behind you, won't you? You know where the emergency key is."

"Yeah, yeah, the whole neighbourhood knows where the emergency key is."

Ray went into Ben's office and sat down at the desk to write him a note. Instead, he peered over and looked at the scribbled entries in Benton's datebook. I peered over his shoulder and had a look for myself. Court on this date - illegible, of course. He didn't get his handwriting from my side of the family - a few doctors' numbers. Such and such on that date. The next week was filled up with hastily written dates, times and phone numbers, most of which began with 613 area codes.

"Busy boy," Ray muttered before glancing through the rest of the book. The other Yank wouldn't have prowled his way through someone else's things that's for sure.

We both heard the front door to the consulate slowly creek open, then close. I could hear Ben walking down the hall and he sounded exhausted. He had every right to be, from all I could tell.

Ray jumped up from the desk and bumped into Ben in the doorway. "Where ya been, Fraser?"

"Out." Ben stepped back. "What are you doing here?"

"Waiting for you. Forget something?"

Benton walked past him and dropped his coat across the desk. "No. Why are you here?"

"You're really losing it, buddy. To drive you around to see more apartments."

"Oh. I forgot. I'm sorry. Perhaps we could do it another night, I'm rather bushed and I'd like to get some sleep."

"Huh?" Ray shook his head, trying to sort out a few facts missing from the conversation. "It's seven o'clock for crying out loud. Even you don't go to sleep that early anymore. And, if you'll recall, I'm the one doing you the favour here."

"Oh. Yes, that's right, we were going to go apartment searching."

"Yeah, so where were you?"

"Out."

"Duh. What's wrong? What's got you so jumpy?"

Benton looked at him blankly. "Nothing. It's just a particularly busy time at the Consulate."

"Oh, yeah I can tell. Every time I call here, Turnbull's got all the time in the world to yak it up. What, there's some mass migration of Pissed-Off Canadians coming?"

"Something like that. Thanks, for coming by Ray, I do appreciate it. To be honest, though, I've been thinking that maybe I'll put off the apartment hunting for a while."

"You're kidding? What happened to a park for Dief? Roots to play on? All of that stuff?"

Benton shrugged. "Don't know. Just rambling, I guess. If you don't mind, I could really use some rest."

"Fine." Enough was enough and Ray had better things to do with his time than argue semantics when he could be avoiding the pile of paper on his desk.

Ben didn't seem to notice or mind the departure. He sat down at his desk and buried his head in his hands. How in the hell was he going to get through this one, he must have been thinking. I wanted to talk to him but we'd been down this road about this subject once before and I wasn't going to take any chances again. He would come to me when he was ready.

*

The Yank was back at the Consulate the next morning, making excuses for his presence to Turnbull. Yank Number one would have pulled it off better. "I gotta ask him a question about one of these cases," he lied politely to Turnbull. "You know when he's coming back?"

"He's probably going to be a while." Turnbull leaned forward and whispered, "Between you and me, Sir, I think that there is something going on that I haven't been privy to."

"There's a lot of that going around. Is Thatcher around? Maybe she can answer my question---"

The words were still out of his mouth as Thatcher flew out of her office, did her coat up and adjusted her sunglasses at the same time. "Turnbull I'm going to be down at the---" She glanced back and forth between Turnbull and Ray and changed the rest of the sentence. "I'll be back later. Is there something I can help you with, Detective, I'm late for a meeting."

"Yeah - sure--" Ray put on his Sunday best and opened the front door for her. "I'll walk you out." Thatcher suspected what he wanted to talk about and she kept up the appearance of being in one mother of a hurry. "Please be quick."

"Sure, sure--" Ray waited until they away from the building. "What's up with Fraser? Is he okay?"

"Of course, why wouldn't he be?"

"Something's going on. You're all running around like roosters with your heads cut off and no body's telling me anything."

"Chickens." Thatcher corrected as she rummaged through her purse for the keys

"Huh?"

"Chickens. It's chickens with their heads cut off, not roosters." What the hell, it bought her time while she opened the car door and got inside. She rolled down her window. "I'm sorry, Detective, but maybe you'd better talk to Fraser. I suspect he's got a lot on his plate at the moment. There is a lot going on from Ottawa."

"Yeah, that Ottawa's a busy, happening place these days, I see. Come on, I'm not an idiot. Welsh shut me down flat, I heard Huey tell Dewey something about the Canuck going through something heavy - they aren't telling me anything. What the hell's going on here?"

The Inspector looked like she was going to bid him a good day and drive away. It wasn't fair to be the bad guy and I suspect she would rather that Benton hadn't begged her, and everyone else, for secrecy. The man in front of her wanted to know what was going on because he wanted to help and despite my sceptical feelings towards him, he deserved to be told.

"I'll be seeing Fraser later today," she said quietly. "Perhaps I could get him to talk to you."

"Oh, shit, it's serious, isn't it--"

"No, Ray--"

"Then what?"

She still wouldn't give him anything else but silence.

"Right," he snapped and stepped back from the car. "You can't talk about it. Nothing like being left out in the loop." 'Of' she wanted to correct him. Left out of the loop. She ought to know, she'd been there too many times herself, and no, there wasn't anything like it.

"I've got to go," was all she said. She glanced back in the mirror in just enough time to see Ray kick a fire hydrant in frustration.

*

Benton was talking into a pay phone asking for a favour and he sounded particularly stressed. It took me a second or two to place the person on the other side of the wire. "He's been in the consulate all day and I wouldn't ask if there were some way that I could get over there and since Turnbull's had to go home early and I'm going to be here longer than I thought--- Yes, Ray, it is an important meeting. We're going through... requests for immigration."

I don't guess that Kowalski was in good humour with that plea. The Inspector Ice Queen Thatcher had felt sorry for him at the curb that morning. That's what this had come to, but he wouldn't take it out on Diefenbaker because - as it stood - the wolf was the only one who hadn't lied to him yet.

"Could you do it please? You did once say that taking Diefenbaker for a walk was a good way to meet women. You called him a 'Chick Magnet' as I recall." My son hesitated and I could tell Ray wasn't going to put him out of his misery until he was good and ready.

Then, "Thanks, Ray." He hung up before he had to tell any more lies.

*

Someone knocked on the boardroom door and handed Ben a note. He and Inspector Thatcher were in the middle of another fast-strategy meeting over more legal documents. Thatcher peered over his shoulder and tried unsuccessfully to read the message. The others in the boardroom stopped talking while Ben tried to make sense of the hastily scribbled words:

'Your wolf is at the Main St. Pound. Please pick up at your convenience. No hurry, he's a dear. Take all the time you need.'

At the bottom of the note was scribbled,

'Also, Det. Roy Kolowalski at Mercy General hospital. Please pick up NOW.'

The others in the room - three of them, lawyers - watched with interest. Ben got up and put his hat on. "I'm sorry, I have to leave---"

"Fraser," Thatcher hissed from the corner of her mouth. "You can't leave!"

He leaned down and showed her the note. "I'm sorry, Ma'am, something must have happened to them."

Thatcher was about to whisper something impolite back to him when one of the lawyers suggested they break for the day. "You can do your business and we'll meet tomorrow morning. Is that all right with you, Inspector Thatcher?"

Inspector Thatcher smiled politely and assured her that, yes, tomorrow morning would be fine. To Ben, she thinly added, "This had better be good."

*

After checking with two emergency desks, Thatcher and Ben found Ray in one of the urgent-care rooms, lying on a gurney. His right arm was tucked under a sling and there were unusual scratches on his face. There was something about the glassy look in his eyes that made me think he'd been given a few pain killers.

He sat up and blurted out the first and only thing that seemed to occupy his mind. "Look what your damn dog did to me, Fraser!"

My son glanced vaguely around the room. "Where's Diefenbaker?"

"In the pound, where he belongs. That animal damn near killed me!"

"You seem alive enough to me," Thatcher remarked.

"What happened, Ray?" Ben interrupted.

"I told you, your killer dog tried to kill me."

"Yes, I heard. Why did he try to kill--- "

"There I was, standing around, waiting for him to take his leak and the next thing I know he's outa there like a bat outa hell. Boom, bang, zap, he's gone and he's taking me with him!" "But he's not strong enough to pull you with him," insisted Thatcher. She looked at Benton. "Is he?"

Benton shrugged. "Apparently he is. Go on, Ray."

"I took him for a walk, like you asked, I found him a nice little rose bush to do his business and while he's doing his business I see this cute brunette is walking towards us. She was walking with some old lady but the brunette was smiling at us and I'm thinking, 'Okay Diefey, do your stuff' but before I can open my mouth, Dief takes off in the other direction. And I had the leash wrapped around my wrist, like you told me, and he's not letting go. That dumb mutt drags me along the sidewalk, going a hundred miles a minute, I can't get my hand outa that stupid leash, and off he goes through another rose bush and into a fire hydrant. Well, I stopped at the fire hydrant."

Both Ben and Thatcher winced at the same time as the mental images soared through their minds.

"My luck, the grandmother stayed with me and the granddaughter went after Cujo. She took him over to the Tenth Street pound. He's there now. Shit, this hurts like hell."

"Where was this?"

"I donno, Racine and something. Least that's where he took off to."

Thatcher looked at Ben. "That's near your old apartment building, isn't it?"

"Oh, great, the wolf got home sick," Ray grumbled.

Benton shook his head. "I have no idea what made him act like that. He's alright?"

"Oh, yeah, Fraser, he's just fine. He's got my cute brunette waiting with him. And now you'll go pick up Diefenkiller and she'll go all gaga over you and forget I even existed."

Even Inspector Thatcher wasn't going to stand for that. "I'll pick up Diefenbaker from the pound and drop him off at the Consulate. Fraser, I'll drive you and Ray to his apartment. You should see that he settles in." She didn't add that she hoped some time alone might egg Benton on to tell Ray what had been going on. She got to her feet. "Detective, you're discharged and free to go, I assume?"

"Yeah. They gave me some pain killers. You know, I can't even claim this as being wounded in the line of duty. Oh, no this is only wounded in the line of wolf-walking, which, by the way, I'm finished doing forever--"

"I'm sorry, Ray, I don't know what came over him."

"You can discuss this later, Gentlemen," The Inspector interrupted. And like the true commanding officer she was, Inspector Thatcher took control of the situation like it was just another tactical war manoeuvre. She was good, you had to hand it to her.

*

Ben helped Ray out of the car and had a quick word with the Inspector. "Thank you for helping me with Ray."

She looked him in the eye and said firmly, "Tell him. He needs to know."

He shook his head.

"Fraser, you know damn well I'm right. Did you ever stop to think it might take some of the pressure of the others who know too?" Thatcher didn't give him a chance to argue and she drove away. She had a point.

Ben heard Ray say something about feeling woozy. Benton turned around and saw him land on the steps of his building rather unsteadily. "Oh dear...."

He grabbed Ray just before he hit the stairs face first. "Sorry about that, Ray."

"Your damn wolf, Fraser, he just about killed me and I can't even get injury benefits from this. Welsh'll probably assign me to my desk and keep me there til I'm old."

"I'm sure he won't."

"I'm sure he will. Damn, this hurts."

"I know," Ben sympathised politely. "I'm sorry."

He helped him up the three sets of stairs to the apartment. Old buildings like these didn't need elevators. You had to hand it to the builders, they knew how to make them back then.

"That's mighty odd for the wolf, Son."

Ben barely spared me a look. "That's none of your business."

"What isn't?" Kowalski asked.

"Nothing."

Nothing, my behind. If an animal of mine had acted that way, I would have wanted to know why. I'd known that wolf since he saved my son on the ice flow, and as odd a creature as he could be, he didn't usually pull stunts like the earlier one without just cause. On the other hand, it just might be that he was tiring of the Yank. It could happen. Perhaps animals were good judges of human behaviour after all. I don't recall the wolf ever trying something like that on the first Ray. Animals, who knew how their little minds worked anyway.

*

Ben helped Ray onto his bed, got him an ice pack, apologised profusely again and spent the following two hours in Ray's living room thinking about everything in his life that did and didn't make sense. At the top of the list was why Diefenbaker would react so suddenly and dangerously to something unknown. Ben would ask him tomorrow. He would spend the night on Ray's couch, in case Ray woke up and needed anything. In case Ray woke up sick and disoriented from the painkillers. In case Ray woke up and Ben found the nerve to talk to him.

He read. He thought. He listened to Ray snore in the other room. He phoned the precinct and informed Welsh of Detective Kowalski's accident and that Ray might not be reporting to work the next day. He sorted the piles of receipts and tax forms Ray had left spread out on the coffee table and on the floor. Tax expert that he claimed to be, Ben was just about to go through and help with the reports but he remembered Ray wanting to do it on his own, hell or low water. Fractured writing arm or no. He put the files back down.

He wandered around and looked at the various photos around the apartment. Family. A few of Stella, the ex-wife. Ray had a knack for hanging on to the things he still loved, whether they loved him back or not. If a photo was the best he could have left, so be it. Hard to fault a man when he still cared about someone, wasn't it, Ben?

*

"Now Diefenbaker, I want you to know that I'm not angry. I'm puzzled, I'm concerned but I'm not angry. I'd just like to know what it was that made you run from Ray, cover twelve blocks and end up here." Ben waved his hand at the surrounding neighbourhood, the one he used to live in. "I'd just like to know why."

I know what Kowalski meant when he once told Benton that talking to the wolf in public was embarrassing. It did have its moments. Benton was kneeling in front of Diefenbaker, enunciating every word, trying to understand the vast un-understandable.

"Was it because you were near our old neighbourhood? Did you want to see the building again?"

Diefenbaker was watching his face, his frown, and his puzzlement. He wanted to continue his search because he knew there was something here to find but his recollection of what was fading. But when it returned, he would know, he would seek it out and he would retrieve it.

"Ray is fine and he is not angry either. But we would both like to know what you were looking for. Understood?"

Diefenbaker whined, whirled his head in a circle and pointed towards the charred remains that was once his home.

"I don't understand. What was here that you needed to find?"

Diefenbaker growled again and it lasted forever. Benton was frightened by it and patted the wolf's head gently. "Whatever it is, we'll find out. We'll find it."

*

I noticed that Ray stayed away from Benton the next day. He didn't call to thank him for the post-medical attention, or tidying up the apartment, or sorting his CD collection alpha-numerically. Benton had even considerately opened any canned goods that Ray might need and re-wrapping them with cellophane. Benton being apologetic, Benton being thoughtful on other's behalf. Is this why he was keeping Ray out of the loop? Was it the guilt from the injury to Ray's arm or to Ray's confidence, shaky as it usually was? The other Yank didn't have a confidence problem. More the other way, if you asked me. Sometimes, I couldn't understand the way this new one almost spoke with his heart on his sleeve. I took care to make sure that my son never acted like that. Too much care, I think. Sometimes, I wish he would act like the Yank, rather than keeping every little fear so deeply tucked away. I don't know. Sometimes my own judgement left a little to be desired. Not much, mind you, but a little.

I decided to follow Ray to the precinct where he continued his pilgrimage through the files and didn't speak to anyone he didn't have to. This included anyone who wanted to know why Benton's wolf went nutso on him and would the wolf be for hire, by any chance. With his writing hand bound in the sling, Ray had to dictate a report to Franny and this didn't soothe his edgy nerves any better. Francessca was another of the 'something's-going-on' contingent and Ray didn't have it in him to be politely rebuffed one more time. The odd thing was, if anyone would have cracked, I'd have thought it would be her but she put that illusion to rest when she landed in the chair across from Ray, pen in hand and announced, "I only have enough time for one word answers. About reports."

"I didn't even ask you anything about him."

"I wouldn't tell you if you did."

It stung like a hot poker.

*

I don't usually interfere in my Son's life - well not as much as I'd like to - but I was going to do some pushing. As it turns out, the Yank may have been reading my mind. He didn't look like he could take one more brush-off but he went to the Lieutenant's door anyway. He knocked once and went in.

"Make it quick," Welsh ordered, without looking up from the paper he was scribbling quickly across.

"Okay. Well, it's about - Fraser, sir," Ray stammered, keeping his head down.

Welsh finally put down the pen. "I can't talk to you, Kowalski," he said plainly. "I gave my word."

"I know, Sir, you and everyone else did but I know that there's something going on and I'm worried about him cause whatever it is must be big."

I wish he didn't have to stammer so much when he became intimidated. And why in the hell did he have to be intimidated anyway? This was Benton they were talking about and if people trusted Ray a little more, he wouldn't have to be the outside guy, knocking pathetically at the window, begging to be let in. I strongly suspect the other Ray would have been let in a hell of a lot sooner and he wouldn't have stammered either.

Ray sat down across from him and got to the worst. "He's sick isn't he?"

"No. He's not sick."

"He's not sick?"

"I just said, 'He's not sick'."

"I saw all these doctors' numbers in his date book. And 613 area codes from Ottawa. If he's getting a transfer or something, I mean, I don't have to know or like it or not like it but I just want to know if everything's okay. Not that everything has to be okay - - - -"

"This is crazy," Welsh sighed and closed the file he was working on. I thought he meant 'crazy' to try and get anything done with this man in front of him. Instead, Welsh shook his head. "I told him to talk to you."

"Oh. You did?" Suddenly, we had a vague recollection of hearing Thatcher say the same thing to Benton the evening before.

"Detective, has Fraser ever mentioned anyone by the name of Victoria to you?" Ray shook his head. Welsh lowered his. In a minute, he was breaking his promise to Benton and I was mighty relieved.

He gave Ray the quick and dirty version of Victoria and what she did to Benton's life in the few short days she was part of it three years ago.

"I got word a few days ago that she's been found. They're returning her to Chicago to stand trial for murder and diamond smuggling. On top of that, Fraser's also being investigated. Apparently the FBI still isn't convinced that he wasn't in cahoots with her and they want to land the biggest bang for their buck."

"That explains it," Ray sighed.

"Fraser's got to testify against her, he's got to get a solid defence for himself and I suspect he's also got his own state of mind to keep reigned in. Inspector Thatcher's called some lawyers from Ottawa; she and I have been trying to sort out details from Canadian and US point of views. I've got Huey on it because he was here when it happened. Dewey's his partner, I need him too."

"Franny knows?" Ray answered his own question. "Of course Franny knows."

"What astonishes me is that she has actually kept quiet about it. I'm sorry, I wish I had more for you. I also wish Fraser had spoken to you directly. He's got enough professional and legal support but I suspect he might need a friend as well, even one who wasn't there when all of this went down."

"Um - What about the real Vecchio?"

"No good. He's incommunicado and that's that. He could provide as much or more of the details that would work in Fraser's behalf but we won't have them. Listen, you talk to him, tell him I told you about it. If he's got a problem with that, tell him I did it for his own good. I've known Constable Fraser for a couple of years now, and I've come to grow very fond of him despite his unusual peccadilloes. He's deserving of more than what's come back to haunt him."

*

The Yank and I found Ben sitting on the park bench, across from the apartment building he had been looking at the other night.

"Change your mind?" Ray carefully sat down next to Diefenbaker at the other end of the bench. The wolf barely stirred. If he was playing possum, he was doing it well. That animal always did have a problem with apologising.

"About what?" Benton asked tiredly.

"The place. Moving. You liked this place a couple of nights ago. Thinking about it again?"

Benton shrugged his shoulders, then shook his head. Quietly, he answered only, "No."

"Welsh told me what's happened."

Benton looked at him, not with the anger Ray had anticipated, but with interest. "He did?"

"Yeah, he did. No one else would. Why the hell did you tell them not to tell me? I thought I was your friend. You and me, a team, remember? Why didn't you come to me, I coulda helped."

"That's not it---"

"Then what? I'm not smart enough? I'm not lawyer or Canadian enough? I never got caught up in anything that messy, so what the hell would I know about it?"

"No. I didn't tell any more people than I had to because that would mean explaining more than I had to and I don't think I could do it again."

"Yeah, but it's just to me."

"Exactly. It's hard enough having to have this business come back into my life and remember the people who were dragged through my mistake. Now I have to explain the entire scenario to a friend who knows nothing about it and suspect he'll think poorly of me for it. Or, even worse, some how have you dragged into the mess. I suppose the Lieutenant told you what Ray Vecchio had to go through and what I put on the line that I had no right to. Not to mention everything he had to endure after he shot - after the shooting incident." He couldn't even say the plain words, 'After he shot me.' This was why he didn't want to speak of the whole thing; because he couldn't bear the thought of hearing his own voice skirt around the real phrases when the phoney ones were the only ones he was able to say.

"Why the hell would you think I'd think any worse of you, f'crissakes! I'm sorry for you, I'm worried about you but I don't think any worse of you so stop trying to put thoughts in my mind, okay? You want to know what I think of things, just ask me for crying out loud! Don't guess cause you don't know me that well."

"No," Benton realised. "I suppose I don't."

"You gonna let me help now? I can do one of those character references things. I can help with digging up any missing background stuff. I can walk your killer dog without you having to lie to me. Hey, now, wouldn't that be a change" There was something in his voice that told Ben how hurt Ray had been by the lies. The guilt must have been a killer.

"I thought you were sick or something," Ray went on. "Then I thought you were being sued for something like wrongful jaywalking."

"I wish," Benton smiled for the first time.

"You know, I even had Inspector Thatcher feeling sorry for me, thanks to you. Try that on for size and see how you like it."

"I'm sorry. She's been insisting that I tell you what was going on. I would have if I could have."

"For a guy who never shuts up sometimes, you really have this problem about talking."

"Yes, I've been told. The Inspector's been very understanding. When she heard what's coming up, she didn't ask this or that, she simply called Ottawa, told them I needed help and got the force's best legal team. The Lieutenant and the others at the precinct have been helpful too." I saw the relief he felt when she didn't ask him any questions or give him hell for dragging her consulate into this; the relief he felt when she sighed and said, "We'd better get this fixed up," picked up the phone and began making some calls.

"So you never saw this Victoria since, huh?" Ray was saying.

"Nope."

"Think you will? Like to talk to, I mean."

"I don't know. There are so many scenarios playing in my mind that the only one I can concentrate on is the one that has me getting my name cleared."

"What's the worst case?"

"Being implicated. Suspension, investigation, trial. My job. Even if the proof doesn't materialise, my name has still been tarnished."

"And the best?"

"She goes to prison for the crimes she's committed. I retain my job, things stay as they have been."

"So, do you talk to her in any of these scen - stories?"

This nailed him, perhaps because nobody had spoken to him like this or perhaps he just didn't know yet. "Maybe I say sorry, I don't know.

"Sorry? Yer kidding, right?"

"She didn't know what she was doing. She was doing what she thought was best for her."

"Geeze, Fraser, tell me you'd tell her more than 'sorry'."

He shrugged. "Maybe just say goodbye, then."

*

The next day Benton dropped something off at the precinct for Huey. The visit was easier this time because he didn't have to find new ways to avoid Ray. This time he was afforded the comfort of stopping by Ray's desk with his usual greetings.

"Arm okay today, Ray?"

"It hasn't fallen off yet. Dief here to finish off the job?"

"Well, actually, he would like to apologise."

"I'd rather take the brunette's phone number, Fraser, and he knows it. No negotiating or apologies 'til he coughs it up."

Yes, it was the usual and it was good while it lasted.

*

Inspector Thatcher put down the phone and stared at it. The existence of Victoria must have been an on-going mystery to her since taking this post. Now that mystery had blown up into a full-scale crisis and she couldn't help feeling slightly, unnecessarily, justifiably jealous. Oh sure, Victoria shot Benton's dog, nearly ruined his life with a bullet, not to mention Benton's best friend; she took his trust, took his world but she also took his heart, the good and the bad of it; a part of him that Meg wondered about. Did he want to see Victoria again? What would he say to her, if he did?

She surprised me by how efficiently she dove in when the matter arose. Fellow officer in trouble, duty to the force, that sort of thing. I think we were both equally surprised at how easily Benton let her take charge. They sat on opposite sides of her desk, Benton explaining, almost confessing, Thatcher listening professionally almost confessionally. When Benton was done, Thatcher picked up the phone and made the necessary calls to Ottawa to get him the legal help that he was going to need.

The front door of the consulate creaked open and Thatcher yelled for Benton to come to her office. She didn't even have to look up to know it was Benton. She had developed a knack of guessing his footsteps, his pacing, and his particular nuances of breath-step-sigh-step. It had become a routine with her, just as thinking - now worrying - about him had.

He stood in the doorway to her office, his hat in his hand, his finger wiping his brow tiredly. "Yes, Ma'am?"

She waved him into her office and did one of her finger-gestures towards the chair across from the desk. "I need to talk to you about something."

Benton dropped into the chair, his face still the picture of unsuspecting fatigue.

"Lieutenant Welsh just called me. There was some trouble with the FBI agents who were escorting our friend Ms. Metcalf to Chicago. As they put it, they have 'lost track' of her. She's escaped their custody and they suspect it may be to return to Chicago."

Thatcher watched his face carefully for any signs of anything. This man, she had come to realise, didn't give anything away but now he was leaning forward, burying his head in his hands, wondering why the hell this wasn't going away.

"Fraser," she said clumsily. She didn't seem to know if she wanted to boss him or console him.

"It's going to happen again," he said in a low voice, from deep behind the sanctity of his hands.

"What is? Fraser, please look up, I can't keep talking to your knuckles."

He sat up. "When did this happen?"

"I don't know the facts exactly. The Lieutenant wants us to meet him down at the station before anyone else gets word."

"They'll think I had something to do with it, you know."

"Nobody thinks anything, so stop being paranoid, and go call for a cab. Move it, Fraser." This was Inspector Thatcher at her best: Tank Commander, the Poster Woman for Tough Love.

"Now," she added curtly, just in case her concern showed through.

*

Two people stood in the doorway and knocked on the door. The man and woman introduced themselves as FBI. They didn't bother waiting for introductions from the others in the room and pointed to Benton while addressing Welsh. "That him?"

The office was lined with silent, uncomfortable faces. Two of them remembered the last time this Victoria woman was on the loose; one of them had only read the RCMP reports on the case, and the other two wouldn't have known her if they fell over her. And all of them intended to find her.

Welsh rose from his chair, leaned forward on both arms and winced into the offending agent's face. "That is Constable Fraser. Now who the hell are you."

"Agents Bowell-Tete and D'Arce-H'oule," the man said, nodding to his female partner.

"Fine. Then from our left, let me introduce my co-workers in this case. Inspector Thatcher, Constable Fraser, RCMP; Detectives Huey and Dewey; and glaring at you by the door, Detective Kowalski. He'll be the one to land on your asses the minute you get outa line. Now that we've met formally, what the hell do you want. This is a private meeting and you're not invited."

"If it's about Metcalf we're invited," D'Arce-H'oule informed him.

"How did she ... get lost?" Thatcher asked point blank. "Wasn't she in your sole custody?" The others smiled privately. Thatcher had done her homework.

"That's not important," mumbled Bowell-Tete.

Dewey smirked. "Guess not. What'd she do, ask to 'Use The John'?"

D'Arce glared back. "That's none of your business."

Huey chuckled to his partner. "I thought asking to 'Use The John' was the first thing they teach you when you're in FBI rookie school."

"No, that's the prisoner asking to Have The Handcuffs Removed Cause They Pinch."

"Oh."

"Gentlemen, knock it off," Welsh ordered despite deriving a secret pleasure from the moment. It was probably the only one he'd know that day.

"We'd like to recover the prisoner as soon as possible," Bowell-Tete continued, "And with your help if possible. But if there can't be co-operation, we'll do it our way. You'll find our official report on your desk within a few hours." And in frightening precision, they smiled patronisingly at the Lieutenant, turned and strolled out of the room.

"What the hell was that," Dewey finally asked, breaking the silence and the wad of tension around it.

"Just a couple of Feds being idiots. Okay, I want you all to be on the watch for this woman, use your contacts, call in your favours, do what you have to. Find her. Until Dumb and Dumber give me the full details, I can't do much. And let's be nice to them, cause if the Feds take over this case, we might as well roll over and die."

"One of us, anyway," Dewey cracked, before Huey could jab him with his elbow. "Sorry."

"Dismissed," Welsh decided.

Huey and Dewey left, Ray remained loyally by the door and the two Canadians sat, worried in their chairs. "Inspector, what kind of security can you have put in at the consulate. Phone taps, surveillance, that kind of thing?" Welsh asked.

Benton suddenly spoke up. "She wouldn't try to contact me."

"Maybe she will and maybe she won't. Take no chances, Constable, she's fooled you before and she can do it again."

"When did she escape?" Benton suddenly wanted to know.

"A couple of days ago, why?"

"No reason." I didn't catch on until I saw the look of recognition on Ray's face. He figured it out too.

Thatcher stood up and assured Welsh that precautions would be taken. "The RCMP is as discrete as you Americans can be," she promised him. "We just hide it better. Let's go, Fraser."

Benton thanked the Lieutenant and followed Thatcher out the door. He passed Ray and nodded cordially, but didn't speak.

When they had gone, Ray walked over to Welsh and spoke for the first time. "That's not Fraser."

"He's probably scared shitless if he's got any sense."

"So what do we do?"

"Whatever it takes, that's what. You got an 'in' here that most of us don't. She wouldn't know you from Adam unless she's got one hell of a research staff. She'd expect to find our other Ray, who by the way, would most likely run her down with his car--" Welsh and Ray paused to bow their heads and mutter, "God rest its soul," together - before Welsh continued. "Use Dewey, ask around, don't say anything about who you are or why you're looking. Seeing as one of the DA's office is your Ex, she may not hold that against Fraser like the last one wanted to. It's Fraser they're going to be looking to blame if Metcalf takes a permanent walk. You think you can do that and not get too involved? He's going to need you to be cool about this."

Ray folded his arms and shrugged. "Okay."

" 'Okay' what?"

"Nothing. 'Okay' I'll find her if that's what it takes to get Fraser back."

"He hasn't gone any place, Detective."

"Look at the guy. That's not the Fraser I know."

"Maybe not, but let him be what ever kind of wreck he's going to be. You can't change that, you can only do the other stuff. Remember cop stuff? So let's concentrate on that, okay?"

So there it was. This woman returned and threw everyone into behaviours hitherto unknown to them. Diefenbaker was ripping arms out and running marathons; Benton had taken to unnerving silences, Kowalski was beginning to show signs of self-restraint, Welsh was being unusually protective of Benton. And Thatcher, the barracuda of barracudas, was being downright humane. Perhaps fear wasn't the only thing the bogeyman could arouse after all.

*

Ray got the address of the brunette who slipped through his fingers on the day of the Diefen-run. He met with her in a diner and while he tried not to use the sling around his arm for a sympathy play, he found he couldn't help himself. I know I would have used it. She was a looker and if the busted arm helped the cause, so be it.

"Does it hurt?" she asked politely, after inquiring about Diefenbaker. Twice.

Ray, as usual, had been fidgeting with the cutlery on the table "Oh, yeah, the arm, yeah it hurts, but that's part of the job." So were paper cuts and gas but he didn't bother to add that part.

"Granny said you seemed to be in some pain." The woman's dark eyes squinted just dangerously enough to make him wince. "She said she heard you say a string of words not very fit for a police officer."

"Yeah? Well, I was in pain, right? I had to maintain my cover. What if the guy I was tailing saw me? He'd have known I was a cop all along."

"Granny said you'd say something like that." Her eyes fed into Ray's again and she sighed. "Well, what is it you'd like to know?"

"Know? Oh, right, when you caught up to the dog, what was he doing? Where exactly was he?"

"By that old building on Main. The one that burned down last summer." It was the same building Fraser lived in before it burned to the ground. The first home he and Diefenbaker had known in Chicago.

"And the wolf was doing what?"

"I donno. Just sniffing around. He looked like he was trying to find something. I mean, the place is just ashes and bricks. You'd think they'd clear it up or something. There are enough eye-sores in this city as it is."

"Any one else hanging around? Cops, vendors, hook--" He didn't bother finishing the word, or apologising either. He knew his chances with this one died when Granny opened her big mouth.

"No one out of the ordinary. I did notice a woman starring where the building was before I found the dog on the other side of it. I thought she was lost and I was going to ask if she needed directions but I wanted to find the little pooch first. You're sure he's alright. He was so sweet, he kept licking my face and handing me his paw--"

Little pooch, my ass, Ray thought. "Yeah, he's all fine. Tell me more about this woman. What'd she look like?"

"Dark hair. Usual. She looked sad, though. Like she expected to see the building again. I suppose she used to live there once. When I saw her again, she was getting into a taxi, then she was gone. Anyway, I'd like to have a word with the dog's owner about having him better looked after. He could have been hit by a million cars the way he ran loose like that. No offence."

"Gee, none taken," Ray lied. "What taxi company was it?"

"Fish."

"Fish?"

"Like the cartoon. Sorry Charlie. The tuna one. But it wasn't that one. Just a fish."

Ray lowered his head. "Fish," he repeated. Then it hit him. "Fish. Salmon. the Swimming ones. The courier company with that logo, what the hell's their name--"

"Up Your Stream," the woman squealed with delight. "That's the one!"

"Perfect. Thanks for your help, Miss---"

"Mrs," she corrected and, for the first time, waved the important finger - the one that might have saved him all this trouble in the first place - in front of Ray's face. "Mrs. Smith."

*

Benton was hunkered behind the front desk, Turnbull's usual place, writing out invitation addresses on a long stream of labels. He volunteered to do the honours when the Inspector looked at the pile and realised they were never going to get finished. Sometimes I wish he'd let some things be and get the hell out of there once in a while. I'd like to see that woman sit down and address a few envelopes herself. Do her the world of good, if you ask me.

Ben looked up when he heard the door open and smiled when he saw who it was. I don't think they had said much to each other when news of the escape got out.

"Hi, Ray," Ben put down the pen and labels and didn't bother trying to save them as they slid off the side of the desk. If he was glad for some company, he wasn't hiding it.

Ray nodded to the pile of envelopes on the table. "She's got you doing the mail run again?"

"Well, yes. Turnbull's sick and it's a nice change from all of the other... things that have been going on."

"Envelopes, huh?" Ray pulled up a chair and sat across from Benton. He picked up the fallen labels and began peeling the completed ones. "They go on those?" He pointed the tall pile of envelopes.

"Yes, but you don't have to---"

"I know. I'm bored." He began affixing while Ben hesitated then continued writing. "Good hand writing you got there. They teach you that in Canada?"

"No, I've just always had this knack for good penmanship. Calligraphy used to be something of a hobby, a long time ago. So what brings you over here?"

Ray shrugged. "Not much. Just wanted to see how you're doing. You want to grab a bite to eat later? A movie or something?"

"No thanks, there's a lot to do and I really should try and catch up on some of it."

"Why? So you can hang around here and go even more nuts than you already are? Come on, get out of here for a night. It won't kill you. Hell, I'll even treat you. Maybe get Franny and some of the others. Or just you and me. A guy's night out, how's that sound?"

But Benton still shook his head "I appreciate it, but maybe some other time."

"That's bullshit. Fraser, don't let her do any more to you than she has, okay?"

"I'm not. I've just got too much on my mind."

"So, what, you're saying you're happier stuck in here worrying yourself to death and feeling miserable." He pointed over to the label Ben was writing on. "You missed the zipcode."

Ben looked. "So I did. You know, in Canada we call them Postal Codes. It's not widely known that when the new postal code system was implemented in the early 1970's---"

Ray's head lowered in defeat. Those wide eyes of his peeked up from below. "Don't care, Fraser."

"Understood."

They wrote and stamped in comfortable silence for another several minutes. Write, peel, BANG, write, peel, BANG. You had to give the Yank credit, he slammed them on there good for a guy in a sling.

The pile of envelopes Benton was facing got smaller and like it or not, he was going to have this little assignment finished sooner than he wanted. Then it would be on to something more mind numbing; paper clip counting, shoe dusting, flag ironing, pencil sharpening, finger counting. My God, the list didn't bear thinking about.

"You must have figured out why Diefenbaker took off like he did," Ben said unexpectedly.

"Yeah. Guess this means I was hurt in the line of duty after all."

"He must have known she was there. You haven't followed up with the woman who retrieved Diefenbaker to the building, have you?"

Clever how they both avoided looking the other in the eye.

"No," Ray lied. Good boy, keep your cards close.

"Nor have I."

"Good, cause you're supposed to stay the hell out of this part of it. Leave the detecting to the ... you know, leave it to us."

"Yes, well, I would if one of you might actually go and do something about it, like, I don't know, detect."

I never get used to seeing Benton blast out like that once in a while. Takes right after his mother when he does that. She could nail me with a line and a look so fast I wouldn't know what hit me. Once in a blue moon, Benton will let one go and the delivery is flawless. He ought to do it more. This Yank gets it out of him pretty well. God knows he leaves himself open enough. It' isn't that Ben thinks of him in the way that most sarcastic people will attack a prey. He uses it for defence, not offence. Ray gets Benton to stand up for himself that way. I thought I was the only one who could get him into a good back and forth. He certainly spares no pleasantries for me. You'd think I irritate him or something. Ungrateful, sometimes.

"Is that sarcasm, Fraser? You're sounding like you're doing that sarcastic number again--"

"Well, it's not like there's been a lot of activity, Ray," Ben concluded and resumed the label writing.

"What would you know, you been locked up in here. The whole world could doing handstands out there and you'd never hear about it."

"I hardly think so. Ray, I really do appreciate you're trying to cheer me up but I'm fine."

"You don't look fine."

"Well, I am, so please don't worry. Everything is under control, the Inspector assures me our legal position is in good care, Lieutenant Welsh seems to have everything well under control and the rest will just have to fall into place."

I had to hand it to him, he even had me convinced.

The Yank didn't seem to be buying it, though. "Bull."

"If you insist."

They continued the envelopes in silence until the last of them was stamped and ready to go. "Look at this, not bad, huh?" Ray pointed to the pile. "Good team, you and me."

Ben tried again. "I'm fine."

"Bull. You want me to drop these off at the post office on my way back to the station?"

"Isn't that a little out of your way?"

"I'm being nice here, Fraser, you want to give me a little help please? I don't know what the hell do for you and you won't let me do anything. You're sitting here turning into someone you're not and if she gets her way, boom, she wins and you become another man-turned-zombie. So how the hell am I supposed to help you if you won't even budge an inch?"

Ben looked at him sadly right then. "Sometimes the best way to help a person is to give them some space, if that's what they need. Want. It's also the hardest thing to do sometimes."

It sounded like something I'd told Ben more than once. I taught him that the hard way. Right now, I wish I hadn't been so convincing.

"So what you're saying is I should just butt out."

I didn't think that's what he was saying at all.

"That's what I'm saying." Ben corrected.

That son of mine could be a stubborn pip when he wanted to. That's it, son, drive your friends away, tell 'em where to get off, God forbid you may need them again soon.

"Fine, if that's the way you want it," Ray sighed and stood up. "I got other things to do than hang around here while some Mountie wishes I was hanging around some place else." I thought he was about to give up when he said quietly, "You sure you don't want me to mail them for you? Just come with me to the mailbox."

"No."

"Then walk over to the drugstore with me. I gotta get some toothpicks."

"No, Ray."

The smoke was clearing, I could see it in the Yank's eyes. "You're afraid to go outside, aren't you? In case she's watching you from binoculars in a tree or in some high-rise a mile away."

"I most certainly am not--"

To quote the Yank, 'Bull'.

"Yeah, you are. Or worse yet, in case you see her, you'll have to do something about it, talk to her, arrest her, let her go, anything. But that's it. Shit, Fraser, she's got you so wrapped up you can't even walk to the curb and back. I don't think that's very normal."

"That's because it's not true."

Oh, but it is, Ben, it is. The Yank nailed it in an instant. I've only seen Benton afraid in his life one or two times, truly afraid. And not of anything concrete and real, but of the dark and of the bogeymen within that darkness. She lived there too and I know it scared the hell out of him.

"Come on, Fraser, let's go. Just for a walk or something." Ray was standing directly in front of him, staring him down and not budging.

Ben looked up at him, then back at the envelopes. I honestly thought he was going to say no again and that would have killed me. And, given where I was, that wouldn't have been easy.

He slowly stood up and pushed the chair back. "Okay."

"Really?" This fellow really ought to have more confidence in his powers of persuasion.

"Okay." Ben nodded. "I don't want to go far. I don't want to go anywhere, to be honest. I just don't want to stay here."

They walked over to the mall and Ray waited while Benton took turns doing messages in the post office, the bank, a grocery store and a few other simple places one would need to go in the course of a day. I don't know how Ben managed it feeling the way he did, but he did it. Guns, angry people, knives, those can shake you but fear, the real, unseen thing can take the life out of you. I'd been there once or twice and I hated seeing him go through it .

*

Welsh came out of his office and saw Kowalski and Dewey deep in discussion in the corner. Both men were hunched over Ray's desk and were whispering about something. My hearing is better than Benton's and even I couldn't make it out.

Welsh didn't seem particularly thrilled with the pow-wow in the corner. "What the hell's that about? Don't those two know what I mean when I say---" This time he yelled, "This isn't the social club."

Kowalski and Dewey looked up, disturbed for a moment and resumed their conversation.

"They're probably debating the last spitting contest they had," Francessca guessed as she tried to hide her newest magazines under some papers.

"Probably. My money's still on Dewey. Kowalski's got the height, but the little guy can really----"

"Okay, thank you, Sir, I think I get the drift."

Welsh grumbled and went away. Even Francessca was wondering what the other two were talking about with out breaking into an argument. When they finally came up for air, Dewey left and Ray sat down behind his desk. He had that look on his face I did when Cadet Simpson once tried to tie my bootlaces together and ended up joining them to the table leg. In a moment, Ray took a deep breath and stood back up. Whatever he'd just decided, he didn't look comfortable with it. Not comfortable at all.

*

"Hey, Frase, what's going on?" Ray had opened the door to his apartment and the first thing he saw was a pair of feet hanging off the end of his living room couch.

Ben quickly sat up. When he opened his eyes, he saw the Yank staring down at him. "Oh, Ray, you're back. What time is it?"

"I donno. Four or five. What'cha doing here?"

"Well, I - we - that is, Diefenbaker and myself - we were waiting for you at the station and no one seemed to know where you were or when you'd be back and it was a little uncomfortable waiting at your desk with everyone trying not to stare at me and I didn't want to spend any more time in the consulate and, well, to be honest, I needed a little nap and I remembered you kept your extra key in your desk and I'm sorry, I hope you don't mind, but I was so tired and I ---"

"Frase, ease up, it's okay. Use the place anytime you need to." He sat down and glanced around the room. "Where's the wolf? Thought you two were joined at the hip or something."

Ben's head bobbed back and forth. An uncomfortable frown developed when he saw the corner of Ray's room. "Oh dear."

"'Oh dear' what?" Ray instinctively turned and stopped when a spasm of pain hit his arm. "Shit. Never mind. He's fine."

"He likes linen," Ben explained apologetically. "The bed wasn't made and he just took it upon himself to make himself at home. I called him out once but he must have crept back in when I fell asleep. I'll have a talk with him about doing that sort of thing."

"It's okay. Let him sleep wherever--- He's in my bed? Oh, great. Now I'm going to have to wash the sheets."

"You don't usually wash your sheets?"

"Yeah, sometimes. Like when I --- could we keep my hygiene habits outa this. Let him stay where he is."

"You seem a little pre-occupied, Ray, is everything alright?"

Ray didn't want to entertain questions like 'What did you do this afternoon?' so he didn't. "Nothing. Arm's a little sore. What's up with you? You got some sleep, huh? I don't think you've been doing that too much lately."

"No. To be honest, this is the first good rest I've had."

"So what'd you want to talk about? Everything okay with the case?" That's it, Ray boy, play dumb.

Ben was sitting up now and looked closer to being awake. "Yes, although no one seems to want to talk to me about it. Perhaps I just needed a reality check or something."

"I'm your reality check? Boy, are you in trouble."

Ben smiled. "Frightening, isn't it."

"You don't know the half of it." Ray got up and desperately wanted do get the sling off his arm and put some ice on it. "I'm gonna go change."

He turned towards the bedroom and stopped cold in his tracks as though a monster of epic proportions was blocking his way.

It wasn't a monster, it was Diefenbaker. His back was rigid, his eyes were dark and he was growling at Ray.

Ray's heart almost, but not quite, stopped. "Fraser..."

The wolf stepped towards him, still growling. His teeth were shining and poised.

Ray didn't move. Without turning his head, he called out slightly louder, "Fraser."

Ben heard him the first time. He was carefully tiptoeing towards the wolf. I had seen animals turn before but this was more frightening.

"What the hell is he doing, Fraser?" Ray wanted to know as panic slipped into his voice.

Diefenbaker growled again, this time louder and angrier. He didn't take his eyes off the Yank.

Ben delicately stepped in front of Ray and spoke to the wolf. "Diefenbaker, stay---"

"Why's he trying to kill me again?"

"Please be quiet, Ray, and don't make any sudden movements. Diefenbaker----"

My son and the wolf made eye contact. They stared at each other until finally the growling began to subside.

Benton watched the wolf for a moment longer before the reason for the Diefenbaker's reaction became clear to him. "You saw her, didn't you?" he asked Ray.

"Saw who? Call him off, for crissakes, will ya?" Ray was, by this time, backed up against the wall.

"He won't hurt you." Ben knelt beside the wolf and patted his back. "It's okay, Diefenbaker, it's fine. It's fine." Without looking away, he called back, "You're alright, Ray. He won't hurt you."

"Oh, yeah, I can see that."

Ben patted the animal once more and stood up. This time he was the one who stared at Ray with direct, searching eyes and repeated, "You saw her."

Ray pried himself away from the wall and walked towards the safety of the living room. "Saw who?" Well, he gave it a shot. Can't fault him for that.

Benton stared at him. He would wait, I knew that look from enough discussions. I didn't think the Yank was going to crumble so soon. Perhaps it was good that he did. My son on the prowl for information wasn't an entertaining experience when you were on the other end of the stick.

Ray lowered his head in defeat. "A snitch of Dewey's found her."

"Where." The eyes were set, his voice was low and the Yank didn't stand a chance.

"I...I can't tell you."

"Where did you see her, Ray?"

The Yank didn't answer.

"Tell me," Ben ordered. I suppose if the wolf didn't crack, Benton would. That's the power that woman had over them.

Ray stopped by the couch and looked at the two sets of eyes staring through him. "Okay. I saw her. Okay? Listen, Fraser, you aren't supposed to know any of this. We got lucky and Dewey's guy saw her in line at a bank machine. She paid some guy off and then went back to the Holiday Inn. I dropped my wallet and did a big 'Oh my arm's in a sling' act. She picked up the wallet, handed it to me and walked away. She barely even looked at me. The Feds don't know yet. Dewey has her under surveillance but the minute she looks like she's going to pop, he's gotta move in and grab her. And once she's in custody and lawyers up, that's it."

Benton stared at him as if Ray had just babbled the entire situation in Cantonese. "Why isn't she under arrest, Ray."

"Don't look at me like that. Once she lawyers up, it's game over, so you gotta move fast."

"For what?"

"To talk to her, say something."

"No."

"Why?"

"Because. I don't know ....but no. Do your job. This isn't what you are supposed to be doing. You've been given specific instructions about what to do when you see her."
"Fraser----"

"If you do anything out of the ordinary, if you try to bend any rules, then it will happen again and more people will get into trouble on account of trying to help me; You, Dewey, the Lieutenant - too many people. If you don't alert the right people, I will."

"You gonna do something stupid?"

"No. I am not going to do something stupid."

"Good cause you'll cost me a job I kinda like. So if I tell you what I know, you won't do anything about it until I tell you it's safe, right? Cause you know that if you betray that trust thing, I'm screwed, so's Welsh and so's anyone else who's been trying to help you, right? You get that, Fraser?"

"Yes," he said simply. "Go on, please." He sounded like an injured officer who was instructing the medic to 'just take out the bullet. Just gets this over with please'.

"I followed up on the woman who chased after Diefenbaker; She saw Victoria at your old building. She was looking at it, like she expected it to be there. Dewey's snitch is a local, he does small jobs and she needed him for a couple of things but she hasn't told him everything yet. That's why we're kinda sitting on this for a couple of hours. We're hoping to lay low in case she's up to something. If she is and we can prove you're not involved, it looks better on you. And if the CPD can bring her in on something the Feds didn't even know about, that works better for us."

"This isn't the right course of action to take."

"Neither is bringing you up on charges for stuff that you didn't even do." Ray interrupted. "So Dewey and I went in on this guy. He said she had asked him to find you."

"Me."

"That's what the guy told us. You can take this any which way, Fraser, so don't go thinking she's come back to find you and play house. That's all the guy knew. She said she'd have another job for him tonight, same place so we're gonna mike him and go in. He's facing some small time crap so he's going to work with us. I wasn't going to say anything to you and if that crazy mutt of yours hadn't butted in like that, I wouldn't have. You can't say a word to anyone, Fraser, I mean it, no one."

It was a favour not an order, and a desperately needed favour by the looks him.

He waited until Ben nodded. "Okay, then. Good. All right."

Diefenbaker was watching Ray again but this time without the venom. "He's sorry for before," Benton explained. "He has very strong feelings about Vict - about her. He thought you were going to hurt me. She shot him, you know. Point blank."

Ray's face widened. "Are you kidding? She shot him?" He pointed down at the wolf. "At him?"

"Yes." Ben nodded solemnly. "He's protecting himself and me. He knows what she's capable of."

"Shooting a human, sure, who wouldn't, but a wolf? This wolf?" Ben shrugged. "I don't know how to explain it any clearer. It was her that he smelled; it's her he was aggressive towards. He didn't want to hurt you."

"Gee, who couldn't see that."

"I'm sorry you've had to become involved in all of this. It's my problem, I wish I could have kept it that way."

"It's out of your hands, Fraser, so you really don't have much of a choice. Trust me, will ya? This time, you trust me to look after this. I'm not going to let you down--"

"I know that."

"Then why do you think it's not right, or it's just your problem? She's a criminal, I'm a cop. That's how it works in law enforcement, you know."

"I realise but--"

Ray shook his head because he was frustrated. "You can't do it, can you? Just trust me the way I have to trust you every goddamned time. See how it feels to be on the other shoe for once."

Ben didn't say anything. I know he knew Kowalski was right. I'm not saying my son had a problem with control but he may have had some slight difficulty relinquishing it when he didn't want to. Ray mumbled something about going to change and left the room.

I don't know what was going through Benton's mind right then, and if I'd had half a mind of my own, I might have dropped in and found out. But I hadn't spoken to him since this started. I remember how far apart the situation had almost left us the last time it came up. When he was in this state, there was almost no arguing with him. Well, not if you weren't alive enough to sustain your credibility in the first place.

He wandered in to the bedroom. "Don't underestimate her, Ray---"

"Fraser, do ya mind knocking!" the Yank snapped. He was sitting on the side of the bed, trying to wrestle with his shirt that was stuck someplace between his head and his left elbow. From the shoulder to the elbow, he was bruised in green and other unappealing colours.

I hadn't seen shiners like that in a while and judging by the sound of him, neither had Benton. "What in the hell happened to you?"

"Your wolf, remember?"

"I saw your arm that night, this is new. Ray, you can't do this--"

"Thanks Fraser, I kinda see that--"

"No, I don't mean this-" With a gentle tug, Benton eased the shirt over Ray's head and off. He leaned over for a closer look at the shoulder. "My God, I didn't know it was that bad--"

"It's not. Don't touch it - shit, this really hurts."

"Where are your pills?"

"Dresser. Get the water too."

Benton returned with both and sat down next to him as Ray downed the painkillers. "Would you mind please telling me what happened?"

"You better not get into one of your snits. I just got roughed up a bit by a couple of friends of Dewey's snitch. One of 'em threw me against a wall, but there's nothing wrong. We took the morons into custody. By the time they see light, this should all be done with."

"What else aren't you telling me, Ray."

"Nothing. I just told you everything, so stop staring at me. I'm going to meet Dewey at the meeting place and I'll know more then."

"You can't do your job with your shoulder like this. I'll tell Welsh to put someone else on the case." "No, he won't hear about it," Kowalski snapped. "Why don't you get this, Fraser? It's done. It's almost wrapped up. Just let me do whatever it is I have to and let the federal freaks do what they have to and we'll get your name cleared and you can end this thing once and for all, like you probably wanted to end it a couple years ago."

"It's not that simple. If there is something she suspects, if there is any connection, she wouldn't think twice about --"

"Nothing's going to happen. I'm not an idiot."

"And I am?"

"That's not what I said."

"No, but I suspect it's what you meant."

"Then maybe I should have added love-sick idiot. I know what I'm dealing with. You didn't. I'm not in love with her. You were. I'm not blind. You---"

"I get the picture but it still isn't right. I've almost ruined one friend by dragging him into it, not going to implicate more. This isn't about seeing her or saying anything to her. Now it's about not letting her do any more harm."

"Fine, then we agree that I'm going to continue and you're going to back off until I think of a way to get you some face-to-face with her and end this thing once and for all."

"I don't need to speak to her--"

"Yeah, you do. You gotta finish this thing off before something takes that out of your hands, like Vecchio's bullet did last time or something else does this time."

Ben shook his head. I think he had been grappling with that one more than he cared to admit to himself. "I can't talk to her, and even if I could, I won't let you do this. I'm telling you, Ray, don't take this plan of yours any further."

Ray smiled dangerously. "Oooo, what are you going to do? Stop me? I don't think so, Frase."

"I'll tell Welsh if I have to. He'll put an end to it."

"Or make things worse."

Benton stared at his friend for the longest moment. He had that look in his eyes, the look as dangerous as the grin the Yank just pulled off. "You know how I feel. You do this, you do this alone. If you ruin your own career, and Dewey's or anyone else's, you did it. Not me." He grabbed his coat and motioned for Diefenbaker to follow.

"Fine," Ray hollered back.

"Good," my brilliant son retorted and slammed the door behind him.

I saw the Yank pick up the phone and dial. I wish I'd stayed around after I heard him ask for Inspector Thatcher, but Ben seemed like the more urgent priority.

I know it was one of those stupid decisions you make while the object of your decision is taking another flight of stairs two at a time but I went ahead and opened my big mouth anyway. "I wish he hadn't said that to you, Son."

Benton waited until he was out of the building before he stopped and waited for me. "Said what?"

"Well, you know. About her - that woman - that .... Vixen---"

"Dad---"

"That she was looking for you. I know what you're thinking."

"No you don't. That's the problem with you, you just think you do."

"I don't want you getting any false hope that ---"

"That what? That she doesn't hate me forever, or blame me anymore? That if she did want to find me, she might forgive me for---"

"Forgive you? Let's get this straight, son, you're the one who has to do the forgiving."

"Sometimes I'm not so sure."

"And Ray? What will he be doing while she is forgiving you? Can't play two sides of the same coin, son."

"I'm not talking to you."

"Yes you are. You just did. And I'm going to try to talk some sense in to you. I wish the Yank hadn't said anything to you." " And I wish none of this had ever happened. But we can't always get what we wish for, can we Dad?"

No, I guess we can't. He turned and walked away as quickly as he could and I just let him go.

*

Dewey and Ray sat in the car, parked in the corner lot, and waited for Dewey's snitch. Dewey noticed Ray rubbing his bad shoulder. "Hurt much?"

"Nah. You sure this is the place?"

"Yeah. Ray, listen, I got to thinking----"

"Where the hell is he?

"Jack doesn't even know about me doing this. It doesn't seem right, not telling your partner. If Welsh found out we were sitting on this, he'd have our asses for the rest of our lives."

"He doesn't know and he's not going to know. Trust me, I know what I'm doing. It's a little detour but it will work out in the end. You see the way Fraser is now? He's almost a vegetable. The Feds aren't going to let him anywhere near her once we bring her in. And if we can get her on something else, we'll be laughing."

"And if we don't? If none of that happens? We're all in deep shit and Fraser's even deeper."

"You thinking of backing out?"

Dewey shrugged. "Maybe. I don't like how this feels. Fraser doesn't like it. Welsh and Huey wouldn't like it. You know, enough people tell you that you're flying low, you might want to check, you know what I'm saying?"

"That I'm flying low. Nice try."

"I'm not good with this Ray. I don't like doing this behind everyone's back. What happens if we get caught? You get in shit, so do I and so does Welsh. You know who that leaves feeling like he's taking the blame? Fraser. If something goes wrong, Fraser will be the one feeling responsible as well as being in deeper shit than when this started. I don't think you want to do that to him."

Ray was silent. The Duck man had a point. Benton was barely walking a straight line as it was. If he thought any of his friends were going to topple over with him, he'd never forgive himself.

"So you want out."

"Yeah. No more lying. Let's bring her in, say my guy found her, and call it a day. If Fraser doesn't get some time to talk to her or whatever the hell you think is so important to do, then so be it."

Ray wasn't as convinced as his buddy was.

"Look, I don't know Fraser like you do but I bet he took it hard when you busted up your arm like that."

"Nah, he didn't." Ray way lying. The look on Benton's face when he saw the next round of damage on Ray's arm confirmed that much.

"Let it go, Kowalski. He can't take any more good intentions."

*

Until Inspector Thatcher lifted her phone and noticed a few broken pieces of plastic under it. She'd seen these before and she knew what they were. So did I.

"FRASER!" Good Lord, but that woman had a yell that could wake the dead, or at least deafen us somewhat.

He hurried into the room. "Yes, Ma'am?"

She pointed to the phone and began ranting something about lost files. She was good. "Why do I keep finding these files here when they should have been returned to the Archives Centre in Ottawa?"

Benton had no idea what she was talking about. "I don't know---"

"I asked you and Turnbull to dispense with them two months ago."

Still, she kept pointing her index finger at the phone until Ben looked, saw and understood.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Ma'am, I meant to send those earlier, I must have forgot."

"That's not good enough, is it? I don't think so because the last thing I need right now is Ottawa breathing down my neck because of something that should have been done weeks ago."

Ben pointed to another telltale spot, this one by the wall. Who ever was responsible for this didn't do a very good clean up. "I'll skip lunch today and work on it."

She nodded and got her coat. "Good. See that you do." She motioned for him to lock up and follow. "I'm going to put the phones on forward to voice mail so there will be no disturbances for you. When I get back, I expect to find everything in order."

With nods back and forth, they both quietly left the building and locked the door behind them. Nobody spoke until they reached the curb.

"How long do you think they've been in there?" Ben wanted to know.

"I couldn't guess. I think we should let the Lieutenant know about them."

*

Welsh dispatched two of the best audio-equipment people to the Canadian Consulate, told them what to look for, and waited for the report. "Got good news and bad," he announced to Benton and the Inspector later in his office. "The bugs in the phones in your offices were placed by the Feds. Our Feds. Bad news is the ones in the wall sockets were put in by your government."

"The RCMP?" Benton blurted out. "Why would they --- oh, dear."

"I'll call and find out who ordered it," Welsh said. "Fraser, you didn't talk about the case to anyone on the phone, did you?"

He shook his head. Even if he had wished to, he hadn't spoken to anyone. Except for Ray and that was in person. "No."

"And you, Inspector?" Welsh added.

"I - well, no, not - Well, just quickly---Kowalski called me last evening here to say that Fraser was coming back to the consulate and he was upset." It had to have sounded worse than it was because it wasn't sounding very good at the moment. She looked at the two worried faces in front of her and raised her hands innocently. "Well, how was I to know the damn thing was bugged."

"Make sure you leave them just the way they are."

Ben wore a bothered expression. I'd seen that face before once or twice and it rated up there with disappointment and forgotten birthdays. Only one, mind you, but it was enough.

"You knew he had seen her, too?" he asked when they were alone. She was bobbing her head back and forth, looking for a taxi; Benton was standing there, waiting.

"Well. Yes. Yes, I did. I just didn't think it was prudent for you to know, in case you - well, in case you---"

"Went ballistic and went after her with a shot gun and a wedding ring?" he continued sharply. See what I told you about that sudden sarcastic side? You should have seen her face. Yes, she wanted to agree.

"No, no," she battled aloud.

"I thank you for the vote of confidence. At least Ray had the dignity to call me an idiot to my face. I'll see you back at the Consulate, Inspector."

She caught up to him at the next curb. "I'm sorry for not confiding in you about this, Fraser, perhaps I should have but Detective Vecchio came to me in confidence and I didn't try and talk him out of telling you. Perhaps we were wrong in misjudging your judgement a little bit."

"It's called trust, Inspector."

"I trust you. I trusted you enough to help and to know that you are a good man being caught up in something you don't deserve to be. That's trust too, you know, so don't put me in the same category as the idiots from the force who have taken it on to bug the consulate. If I'm on your side, it's because I believe in you, not for any other reason."

But Benton was far beyond listening rationally to anything sane she or anyone else might have to say. "I can see the Federal agents infiltrating the consulate, but our own people. I lost some trust when I brought in Gerard, I lost more when I became involved with Victoria and now I'm waving it goodbye as this case finishes me and everyone with it off."

"Fraser, that's not what---"

Poor Meg. I really think she cared for him at that moment and I think she would have done anything for him. Instead, she was left standing there, watching my son vanish into a crowd.

*

"Kowalski."

"Yeah, who is it?"

"Inspector Thatcher. We have a---"

"Gotta put you on hold for a sec, Inspector, something's---"

"No, Kowalski, please don't put me on hold, I'm in a phone booth outside the consulate and this can't wait."

"Neither can what I've got." Kowalski sighed and gave in. "Okay, make it quick." He has the most irritating manner of rapping his pen against the nearest metallic piece of office furniture that he can find.

"It's Fraser. I just got back to the consulate and he's.... We found out my office had been bugged by our people and yours and it upset him. He ripped them from the walls, he's thrown things on the floor, it looks like he's lost control. And I can't find him anywhere."

"Shit. Great timing, Frase. Okay, I got an idea where he may be. I really gotta to go."

"Detective, what---"

"Call you later."

*

Ray knew where to find him. I'll give this much more to the Yank, he's got a good set of instincts, maybe as good as Benton's. He went back to that park, the one across from the building Benton had liked. Ben wasn't on the bench by the road, no that was too much in view. Ray found him at the other end of the park, just sitting and thinking.

"Hey, heard you went postal in the Consulate."

'If you mean by debugging the Inspector's office, yes, I suppose I did."

"Cool. You want to taxi down to the station with me? I'm kinda in a hurry. We can talk on the way."

"About what?" The poor boy actually sounded like he meant it.

"Listen, Fraser, I'm sorry about pushing you to talk to her and my plan and all that but I just wanted to do this for you. You don't have to finish anything off, not if you don't need to. That's not my call, I guess. I thought it was. Sorry."

Ben didn't say anything for a moment, a long moment actually. Then he quietly admitted, "I'm so angry at her for everything she's done to me. I'm so angry, I don't know what to do."

"It's not easy being angry at people, is it? Even people you oughta hate but you kinda don't."

"No, it's not."

"But yer still allowed. That what you got so pissed off in the consulate?"

"Perhaps. That and realizing that nobody trusts me on this. Not to tell information to, to keep informed."

"Yeah, well, you don't even trust yourself to go and say anything to her. You're letting it all get solved, and whichever way it lands you're going to go with it. So maybe that stuff's out of your hands anyway, but you can at least do this. You need to get some of that, whaddya call it, closure stuff and get this woman out of your in-basket once and for all."

That was a mouth full. I waited for Ben's reaction. He only turned and looked at Kowalski as if a minor miracle of elocution had just occurred. He opened his mouth as if he wanted to add something to the Yank's words. Instead, he lowered his head and said only, "I guess."

Ray was looking at his watch and getting concerned. "Yeah, okay. Listen, Fraser, you think we could do this on the way to the station?"

Another nod. "Ray?'

Another sigh. I don't know what the urgency was but whatever it was, it was going to turn this fellow into quivering jelly in a few moments. "Yeah, Frase."

"I have to tell you something about ... that time. About Victoria. The night when Ray - the other Ray - he fired at her... When I was running after her .... It wasn't to catch her, it was to go with her."

Ben couldn't do it, but I could, and I watched the Yank for his reaction, for the first twitch of an eye or anything else that would sum him up once and for all for me. He simply nodded and said, "Yeah?"

"Yeah."

"Good thing you didn't catch up, then."

Benton raised his head and looked at the Yank. "I guess so," he agreed and finally smiled.

"Everyone's done something like that. I bet pretty much everyone on the planet, me included, has someone they woulda gone to the moon and back for. It's okay, Frase."

And from that moment on, I believe I would have gone to the moon and back for Ray.

He slapped Ben's knee, tried not to look at his watch again and stood up. "Let's go, I gotta move."

"What's your hurry?"

"Well ... they found her."

*

Back at the precinct, Ray made Fraser sit down at his desk while he hopped through bodies to get to Dewey across the room. He listened to the other detective for a moment and looked back at Fraser.

Ray returned to the desk. "Come on, Fraser." He signalled him to the door and led him down the hall. He leaned over and quietly pointed to an interrogation room a few doors away. "She's in there. They brought her in twenty minutes ago. The Feds don't know she's here and she hasn't lawyered up yet. You don't have to go in there if you don't want."

"I can't."

"Why? Cause you really, physically can't - like the door is locked and we don't have a key? Or you can't because you may want to, but can't get one leg past the other; that kinda thing?"

Ben looked at me. "That kind of thing. I can't do it."

"Another fifteen minutes you aren't going to have a choice. An hour from now you may be kicking yourself forever. Listen, there's one more thing. We found out what she was doing at your building. She wasn't actually looking for you after all. She'd hidden some money in one of the bathrooms there - like a communal bathroom, that everyone shares - your place have one of those?" He waited for Ben to nod. "She hid some money in a tin in one of the walls. That's what she was looking for."

"Oh."

"Dewey's snitch turned out to be better than we hoped. We'll cut him loose after he coughs up a report." I looked towards the door. She was in there. That woman who I hoped would rot in hell. If Benton didn't want to say anything to her, then I had a basket full of things I could spew out. But this wasn't my problem, it was his.

Lieutenant Welsh appeared at the other end of the crowded corridor. "Kowalski, I need you in my office, pronto!"

"In a sec, Lieutenant."

"How about this very instant. I got some pissed off Feds in my office. Move it!"

Ray looked sick. "Shit."

"Go, Ray. I'll be fine."

"You sure?"

"Yes. Go."

He looked once more at Ben and took off down the hallway.

Benton looked at me for a moment but he didn't say anything. Neither did I. We stood outside the door of the interview room and stared at each other. Then, Ben turned the handle and went inside.

"Hello, Victoria"

*
THE END