KILLER KLOWNS FROM KANADA

by Katrina Bowen

"A clown is trying to kill me, Ray."  Ben looked anxiously around the
corner of the booth toward the door of the cafe.

Ray blinked.  Normally, Fraser treated people trying to murder him with
the utmost respect, and to hear the Mountie referring to someone as a
clown was a bit disconcerting.  All the same ... "Just calm down and
tell me what happened."  He reached down and gave Dief half of his sandwich;
Fraser didn't even seem to register it, let alone give both of his friends
a lecture on the proper diet of wolves.  Now Ray was really worried.

Ben took a deep breath.  "After I got off duty at the consulate, I went
back to my apartment.  I opened the door and went to the window.  When
I opened the shade, there was someone waiting on the fire escape." He
pulled something wrapped in a handkerchief out of his pocket and laid
it on the table in front of Ray.  "Then he threw a knife at me."

"Jesus."  Ray carefully unwrapped the knife and looked at it, making
sure he didn't touch it.  He looked up.   "What did you do, Benny?"

"Obviously, I ducked,"  he said in a brittle voice.  Before Ray could
answer, Ben shook his head and rubbed his eyes.  "I'm sorry, Ray.  I
shouldn't take this out on you.  It's just so -- surreal."

"It's okay.  Don't worry about it.  I mean, you've had plenty of people
trying to kill you, right?  You should be used to it by now."

"Not like this, Ray."  Ben looked to the doorway again.  "This is rather
more -- peculiar than the other incidents."

"Look, let's start with the basics.  Can you give me a description of
this guy?"

"Oh, yes.  But you won't believe me," Ben said a little hopelessly. 

"Of course I'll believe you."

"Even if you do believe me, you won't like it."  He was staring at his
water glass.

"Benny, just tell me what he looked like."  Ray took out a small notebook.
"Did he have any distinguishing features?"

Ben sighed heavily and looked Ray in the eye.  "More or less what you
would expect.  He had a white face and a big red mouth.  He had blue,
fuzzy hair -- oh, and a large, red, round nose."

Ray concentrated on taking deep, even breaths.  When he trusted himself
to speak he said, "Let me get this straight.  When you said some clown
was trying to kill you --"

"Actually, Ray, I said *a* clown was trying to kill me."

"So you don't mean clown as an insult."

"No.  I mean a particular, specific clown is trying to kill me."

This time Ray looked to the doorway.  He regretfully concluded that there
was no way to avoid dealing with this.

"You think I'm making this up, don't you, Ray?"  Ben looked depressed
and even more hopeless.  He rose slightly, as if preparing to leave.
Ray reached out quickly to grab his wrist.

"I gotta admit, Benny, my life would be a lot easier if I didn't believe
you. But I do."  As Ben sat down slowly, Ray continued.  "First of all
-- I mean, you're my friend, so I can tell you this, no offense meant
-- you are the absolutely worst liar I've ever met.  You obviously *believe*
a clown is trying to kill you, so I'll accept that's what you saw." 
He released Ben's wrist and took a drink of coffee.  "Secondly, if you
were going to make something up, it'd have igloos or polar bears or something,"
he added casually.

"Well, Ray, that's not necessarily true."  Seeing Ray's skeptical expression,
Ben went on defensively.  "If I were to choose to lie, I think I'd be
-- well, not *good*, perhaps, but I'm sure I could be quite convincing."

"Do you remember when you were trying to get Thatcher away from that
dinner with her boss?  Do you remember what you came up with?"  Ray finally
let himself smile -- Fraser was starting to relax.

"That was on the spur of the moment.  Given enough time, I could do much
better, I'm sure."

"Yeah, I'd hope so.  Anything would be better than 'Your car is on fire
and the other cars feel threatened.'  Face it, Benny -- you just don't
have the knack."  He stood and gave the remainder of his sandwich to
Dief.  "Come on -- let's go down to the precinct and see what we can
find out." 

"All right."  Ben rose to follow.  "But the next time Diefenbaker needs
to be carried somewhere, you're going to be the one to do it.  Do you
have any idea how much weight he's gained since coming to Chicago?"

"Ah, he's just big-boned ..."

****************************************************************************
*****

For the first time all week, Elaine was glad she had pulled the night
shift. All right, she knew it was serious and all, and she was by no
means happy to hear that someone was trying to kill Ben.  Still, any
chance to see him was something to be seized on.  Throw in an opportunity
to save his live ... She grinned as the information she had been waiting
for started printing out.  Tearing off the sheets, she walked quickly
over to Vecchio's desk.  "I think I found something."

Ben and Ray looked up from the piles of folders they were attempting
to sort through.  They both stood up -- Ray in order to stretch, and
Ben out of courtesy.  "Good, because we're getting nowhere here.  I had
no idea there were so many cases of homicidal Bozos.  Do you think there's
something in the makeup that drives clowns insane?  I mean, they're almost
worse than postal workers."

"Shut up, Ray," Elaine said conversationally.

"Okay."  He sat back down.

"What do you have, Elaine?"  Ben took the papers she offered him. 

"Two things.  First of all, would you believe there's a clown convention
in town?  It was hard getting hold of someone this late, but I finally
found someone who can help us."

"Great!"  Ray stood back up.  "Come on, Benny.  Let's go check it out."

"You can save yourself the trip, Vecchio.  If we fax them a description,
they can check it against their records."  Ben and Ray looked at each
other.  Before either could ask her, she explained.  "It turns out that
clowns are pretty possessive about their makeup, so they all have to
register their designs.  The woman I talked to -- who, incidentally,
introduced herself as Bubbles -- said that she can forward our clown's
description to the central registry."

"Would it help if I drew a picture?"  Ben was already starting to sketch;
his drawing was finished in about a minute.

"This is wonderful, Ben."

"Why, thank you, Elaine.  Although I must admit that I'm not altogether
satisfied with the width of the hair --"

"Yeah, it's real nice.  But what's the second thing you were going to
tell us?" Ray broke in impatiently.

Elaine sobered.  "This isn't going to make either of you any happier,
I'm afraid.  On a hunch, I checked for any similar cases.  There have
been four Mounties killed in the past two months -- one in Montreal,
the others in Ontario.  None of the cases have been solved.  Now, in
one of the Ontario cases, the main suspect is the victim's brother, so
I think we can eliminate that one.  However, a man across the street
in the Montreal murder reported seeing a clown leaving the building.
He was pretty drunk, though, so the Canadian authorities dismissed his
statement."

Ray blew out his breath softly and looked at Fraser.  "Congratulations,
Benny.  You're not insane.  Could you fax that drawing, Elaine?"

"Sure."  She smiled and patted Ben on the shoulder.  "I'm not about to
let anything happen to my favorite Mountie."

"Come on, Elaine.  He's the *only* Mountie you know."

"All the more reason to take care of him."  She walked back to her computer.

****************************************************************************
*****

"Hey."  Ray gently shook Ben's shoulder to wake him.  As his friend straightened
up and rubbed at his eyes, Ray sat down across from him. Dief also woke
up, and sat so he could watch both men's lips.  "Elaine got the information
she was after.  The makeup is registered to a --" he looked down at the
printout "-- Reme Vavasour.  Originally French Canadian, but he'd been
working in the States for the past ten years.  He disappeared from the
circus he was with about four months ago, and told a friend that a family
member was dying in Canada."

"Vavasour?"  Ben frowned.  "I know that name ..."  He closed his eyes,
trying to remember.  "It was in my father's journals.  But the first
name wasn't Reme.  I think it was -- Claud?  Yes, I'm sure it was Claud."

"Great.  Who's Claud?"

"Claud Vavasour was part of a drug smuggling ring in the Territories.
My father was in the detail that broke it up.  If I recall correctly,
Vavasour was shot during the raid, and lapsed into a coma."  Ben paused.
"I wouldn't be at all surprised if all the dead Mounties were somehow
involved in the raid. And because my father is already dead, Reme had
decided to kill me instead."

"Oh, this is wonderful."  Ray rested his head in his hands.  "We've got
a crazy clown with revenge on his tiny little mind."  He looked up. 
"Why in God's name would he go around killing people while he's wearing
his makeup?  Even if he's nuts, he's gotta know that it'd only make him
easier to find."

Ben shrugged.  "Possibly he sees himself as some sort of -- agent of
retribution?"

"What?  The Red Nose of Reckoning?"

"That's not at all funny, Ray."  But Ben was smiling as he said it. 
He looked at his watch.  "Oh dear.  I'm going to be late for work.  Will
you keep me informed?"  He started to leave.

"Wait a minute!"  Ray ran after him.  "You've been sitting up all night
trying to find out why a clown is trying to kill you, and you're honestly
thinking of going to work?"

"Ray, I go on duty in an hour.  What am I supposed to tell Inspector
Thatcher?"

"Tell her the truth.  Tell her a crazed Quebecois clown is going to murder
you."

Ben stared at Ray in disbelief.  "She'd never believe me.  She'd think
I was lying."

"Sometimes, Benny, the truth is the best lie of all."  Seeing Ben's stubborn
expression, Ray sighed and threw up his hands.  "Fine.  Go to work. 
But I'm coming with you."

****************************************************************************
*****

"Constable, I need you to deliver some papers for me --"  Inspector Margaret
Thatcher jumped as she saw Ray Vecchio sitting in the corner chair, reading
a newspaper.  "What are you doing here?" she demanded in surprise.

"Ah, sir, Detective Vecchio is here to -- that is, he --" Ben floundered
for a few moments, and Ray broke in smoothly.

"Seeing as how the constable is always spending *his* free time around
the precinct, I thought I'd show him how it feels."

Meg didn't understand the look they exchanged (raised eyebrows on Fraser's
part, a beatific smile on Vecchio's), but she decided it was something
she didn't want to ask about.  She continued, "There are some work permits
that need to be delivered to the Duvalier - Furley Circus. Please do
it as soon as possible."  She turned to leave, but stopped as Ray quickly
stepped in front of her.

"Oh, that really isn't a good idea at all, Inspector.  Isn't there someone
else who could do it?"

This time it was Meg who raised her eyebrows.  "Unfortunately, Detective,
everyone else is busy, and the documents must be delivered by the end
of the day.  If you would, Constable?"

"Of course, sir."

"Wait a minute!"  Meg turned back in irritation.  "Look, Fraser didn't
want me to tell you this --"

"Ray, I don't think --"

"-- but a clown is trying to kill him.  So he shouldn't go anywhere near
a circus."

"I ... see."  Meg turned to Ben.  "May I see you in the hallway for a
moment, Constable Fraser?"  With a helpless shrug at Ray, Ben followed
her into the corridor and pulled the door shut behind him.  Meg turned
to him and hissed, "See?  *This* is what happens when you hang around
with Americans!  He's obviously lost his mind."

"Oh, no.  You see, it's really -- I mean, there *is* actually ..." Ben
gave up. "He means well, sir."

"Just deliver those documents, Constable."  She walked away.  Ben sighed
and went back into his office.

"Well?  What did she say?" Ray demanded.

"Let's just say that we're going to the circus."

****************************************************************************
*****

"Benny ... Benny?  Benny!"  Ray took Fraser's arm and firmly steered
him away from the group of giggling aerialists who had cornered him.
"Excuse us, ladies."  Shaking his head, he added more confidentially,
"You know, a moving target is much harder to hit.  Didn't they teach
you anything in Mountie School?"

"I'm sorry, Ray.  It's just that they were so -- insistant.  Especially
the one in the, ahhh --" Ben gestured vaguely at his torso.

"The feathers, yeah.  I could tell.  Now, there's no reason to believe
that Vavasour is with this particular circus.  I've called out an APB
on him, so if we're lucky he'll be laying low.  Hey -- where's Dief?"

"Oh, he's having a staring contest with one of the tigers.  He'll be
along when he gets bored."

"Fine.  Let's just drop off those papers and get out of here.  The ringmaster
said the manager's trailer is over past those tents."  They walked into
the shadowed pathway between the two tents.

"All right."  Ray and Ben both froze at the voice behind them.  "Put
up your hands and turn around slowly."

"You know, I suppose we really shouldn't be surprised,"  Ben said calmly.

"No.  But I really hope that's one of those guns that shoots out a flag
that says 'BANG!'  instead of bullets."

"Somehow, Ray, I doubt it."

"Both of you, shut up!"  Vavasour, still in his clown makeup, was waving
the gun between them.

Ben took a half step in front of Ray.  "You know, Reme, it isn't too
late to end this peacefully."

Ray stepped in front of Ben.  "Right.  So just give me the gun, and we
can talk about this, okay?"

"Excuse me, Ray."  Ben stepped in front of Ray again.

"Hey!"  Ray elbowed Ben in the side and stepped in front of him.  "You're
the one he really wants dead.  Stay back there, willya?"

"Actually, Ray, that's why I think I should be in front."

"What, you really believe he's gonna shoot you, and then just leave me
standing here?"

"That's not the *point*, Ray --"

"Will you two be QUIET?" Vavasour shouted.  He turned sharply as he heard
a menacing growl behind him.   Ben reached out and easily twisted the
gun away.  Vavasour turned around, speechless, as Ray handcuffed him
.  Diefenbaker walked up, the remains of a caramel apple stuck to his
whiskers.

"No, Ray, I'm afraid this is a real gun."

"Yeah, I kind of thought so.  Well, it's about time you showed up, Dief,"
he said to the wolf, who ignored him.  "And where do you think *you're*
going?" he called after Ben.

"To drop off these papers.  The inspector was quite firm on that point.
I'll be back in a minute, Ray."

Ray sighed.  He said to Vavasour, "You know, sometimes Mounties are more
trouble than they're worth.  You have the right to remain silent ..."

The End

 ********************
I like comments.  Comments make me happy.  Comments bring meaning to
my sorry little life.  If you all want any more stories, you *will* give
me comments.  Do we understand each other?  Good. -- kb

Katrina Bowen -- kbowen@willowtree.com

"Super heroes and evil twins go together like peanut butter and -- and
evil peanut butter!"  _Earthworm Jim_