Okay, Standard disclaimer. All we really want to do is just want to play to our hearts' content in the due South Sand Pit - we don't want to take it over.
by Sealie Scott
The door swung open at Ray Vecchio's sharp knock. Despite the fact that he normally knocked then walked straight into his friend's apartment, today he hovered in the doorway.
"Benny? You in there?"
"Detective?"
Ray jumped out of his skin. "Mr Mustafi, don't do that!"
Ray pocketed his gun before he turned to face one of the mountie's less seedy neighbours. The habitually nervous Mr Mustafi rocked from foot to foot.
"Is he in there, Detective Vecchio?"
"No, he would have come to the door by now." Ray said acidly. He strode into the apartment expecting it to be ransacked given Mr Mustafi's nervousness but as always it was clinically neat and clean.
"Have you seen him?" Mr Mustafi asked eagerly.
"No, I haven't seen him all day. It's not as if we're joined at the hip."
Mr Mustafi rolled his eyes heavenward.
"You're his best friend." Mrs Gamez stepped into the apartment joining them. "It's not like Benton."
Mr Mustafi nodded emphatically, Ray found himself nodding in tandem. Dennis poked his head around the corner.
"No mountie? He hasn't paid his rent, you know." Dennis spoke sagely.
"What?" Ray pushed past Mustafi and glared down at the greasy superintendent.
"The rent's not due." Mrs Gamez objected.
"He always pays in advance. I was worried."
"Really?" Ray said dubiously.
Dennis looked defensive. "I was. I am. It's not like him."
"When did you last see him?" Ray asked moving into detective mode, he could cope with this if he remained a detective.
"Yesterday evening - he came for tea." Mrs Gamez said unhesitatingly.
"I saw him this morning about ten." Mr Mustafi volunteered.
"Ten o'clock?" Ray automatically looked at his watch but he didn't need the analogue face to tell him that it was nearly eight in the evening. "Ten o'clock? He would have been late for work."
Work, where he knew that Fraser had not turned up. Ray had assumed that his friend was being kept busy guarding the consulate by the Dragon Lady. The consulate staff had covered for the mountie who was obviously helping his friend down at the seemingly incompetent Chicago Police Department. If Constable Turnball hadn't needed to know the whereabouts of an obscure little bureaucratic form Fraser's disappearance could have been undiscovered for days.
"Okay, everybody out. I need to search." Ray ushered them out the door - where on mass they stubbornly stopped.
"You can look now, Detective Vecchio," Mrs Gamez said politely, "we've left the room."
Ray scowled but didn't argue.
The room was neat, therefore there hadn't been a struggle. The 'fridge was empty which meant that Fraser had had time to discard all the perishables. Then again, Ray thought, he only buys as much as he needs. However there were clean dishes beside the sink, Fraser was meticulous about drying the dishes, even though given enough time they could do it themselves.
"When you saw him, Mr Mustafi, how did he look?"
"He had his brown uniform on. Not his red one. On Wednesday he always seems to wear it. I think he's usually irritated that angry woman by the middle of the week and she makes him do guard duty." Mr Mustafi mused out loud.
Fraser's journal sat prominently on his bed rather than carefully sitting on the bureau. The pen which Ray had given him for his birthday was resting on top. Almost furtively, Ray picked up the book. He fingered the diary indecisively. He left here in a hurry - that's not like Benny. He left here on his own. He hasn't been to work - which isn't like Benny. I'm looking for excuses. Ray turned the journal in his hands. Shit. Finally, he opened the book. The last entry was uncharacteristically vague:
Something has cropped up which I have to deal with. How? It is not as if I am a font of wisdom. What if it is not really that bad? It would be nice, if just once...
Ray re-read the disjointed sentences. "Who's been bugging, Benny?" He demanded.
The three in the doorway considered the detective's words. Mrs Gamez's brow furrowed in response to the detective's angry stance, Mr Mustafi and Dennis just cowered.
"No more so than normal." Mrs Gamez admitted slowly. The other two nodded sombrely.
Ray glared at them. "What was he like when you saw him on Tuesday?"
"Quiet. I thought he might have a headache. He helped little Mario with his maths homework and then he went to bed - early." Mrs Gamez answered.
"How early?"
"Seven o'clock."
"An hour or so earlier than his usual bedtime." Ray noted.
"I heard him during the night," Mr Mustafi volunteered, "walking about. He does that sometimes."
Barking interrupted them - Dief's barking. The wolf barged between the threesome filling the doorway and jumped onto Ray. His hands full of wet wolf, Ray fell back onto the bed. Dief followed exuberantly.
"Down, Dief. Stop it!"
As soon as he had Ray completely wet and muddied, Dief jumped off Ray, he barked once and then made a beeline for the door. Mrs Gamez attempted to stop him but the wolf easily avoided her and disappeared down the corridor.
"Damn it!" Ray brushed past Fraser's neighbours .
*
Diefenbaker was waiting impatiently beside Ray's beloved Riveria.
"You want me to drive?" Ray said unnecessarily.
Dief barked once his tone patently saying: who do you think I am - Skippy the Kangaroo?
Ray unlocked the car - for once Dief jumped into the front seat. He settled himself down regarding the road ahead of him. Ray joined the imperious wolf.
"Which way?"
Dief barked and jutted his nose forwards. Ray took his directions from Diefenbaker's pointed nose and occasional growl. They raced their way through the streets of Chicago until to Ray's surprise they ended up in a little park which in many years of exploring Chicago he had never found or investigated. Pawing insistently at the door, Dief demanded to be let out of the car.
"Yeah, yeah." Ray opened his door and winced as Dief launched himself across the detective - treading more mud and water on his Armani coat. Disgruntled and worried, Ray clambered out of his car.
"Do I need back up?" Ray yelled at a white tail disappearing into the bushes.
Dief barked once: no.
Trusting the wolf's judgement and that the wolf was sufficiently concerned that he was hearing, Ray edged himself between the bushes and became immediately lost. He crashed around the trees until Diefenbaker returned. The wolf's expression was disgusted.
"You need help getting 'round a night-club - come to me! I won't run off and leave you." Ray chastised.
Diefenbaker had the grace to look sheepish, no mean feat for a wolf. At a much slower pace the wolf led the detective through the trees to a lakeside glade. Ray paused before stepping out into the open. Fraser sat with his back to him, watching the evening sun glinting across the still water.
"Hello, Ray." He said without turning.
"Hi, yourself, what you doing here?"
Ray joined his friend by the water. He waited for a response but Fraser did not speak. Cautiously, Ray sat down.
"Everyone's worried about you."
Fraser grunted noncommittally, but Ray read his expression or lack of expression. Invariably Fraser's stoic expression meant: I'm trying not to emote. You might not know what he's thinking, Ray realised, but you know he's hurting. Why is he so crap at expressing his feelings? Ray stared openly at Fraser's profile, he looked quite frankly - exhausted.
"Yes, they are." Ray said bringing his thoughts back on track. "Dennis was coming to check on you! You forgot to pay your rent."
"Oh." Fraser said monosyllabically.
"And Mrs Gamez and Mr Mustafi." Ray waited. "Me." He said finally.
"Sorry, Ray." Fraser said softly. "I didn't mean too. I didn't think I'd be missed."
"What gave you that idea? You didn't go to work. Then again if Turnball hadn't needed that form - why on earth was she at the consulate at seven o'clock - I wouldn't have known you'd done a runner. What were you thinking of?"
"I just had to get out."
The mountie picked up a stone and flicked it into the water.
"Feeling stir crazy?" Ray asked penetratingly.
Fraser tossed a few more stones into the water.
"Can't you hear it? The city: police sirens; ambulances; fire engines; cars; arguments; music; babies; screams; yells. It's unremitting - day/night, night/day."
"I'll take that as a 'yes'."
"I can't tune it out." Fraser sounded incredibly depressed.
Dief chose that moment to sidle up against his friend and burrow his nose under his arm.
"But you've been here for over a year." Ray pointed out.
"That doesn't make the noise stop, The water's disgusting - how can you drink it?"
Ray's mouth dropped open in astonishment. Fraser was complaining about the water, especially after some of the things he had put in his mouth!
"Christ, you are homesick."
"Homesick?" Fraser considered Ray's words.
"For those vast open spaces and silence." Ray elaborated.
Fraser's expression became pensive. "The cabin. It's a burnt out shell; I don't have a home any more."
"Yes, you do!" Ray practically shrieked. "The territories might be nice and quiet but in less than twelve hours you had people checking up on you. Mr Mustafi noticed that you were acting weird. Mrs Gamez thought you had a headache. I've already told you about Dennis. Diefenbaker crossed the whole of Chicago to get me - he probably checked my home and the precinct first."
"You're right you know." Fraser said almost reluctantly.
"I know I'm right." Ray said forthrightly. "What brought this on, Benny?"
Fraser sighed deeply. "You'd think it's silly."
"No, I won't." Ray crossed his heart. "Word of honour."
"Bryan Adams: Everything I do I do for you." Fraser said cryptically.
Ray passed his hand several inches over his head.
"A new neighbour below me; she plays it all the time. I don't think she goes to bed until two-three in the morning. Mrs Gamez says that she is a postgraduate student writing up her thesis. She never stops playing it."
Ray stifled a grin - it was kind of funny. Deep down he knew Benny thought it was funny or eventually he would find it funny. Probably after he had an uninterrupted nights sleep.
"And it's driving you up the wall?"
"I almost thumped on the floor."
Very impolite, Ray thought almost gleefully.
"I can't be the only one who's...irritated," Fraser continued oblivious to Ray's silent comments, "she has other neighbours. Maybe I'm being overly sensitive." He said plaintively.
"Benny, you have ears like a bat."
"Exactly! What I can hear other people don't. That's not her fault. In this city I think it would be preferable to be deaf."
Ray ignored that - Benny would go nuts if he went deaf.
"And this morning?" Ray prompted.
"I slept in. I didn't get to sleep until three. Then at ten: 'Everything I do I do for you'." Fraser warbled.
"And you left instead of complaining." Ray said. But if somebody else was being disturbed by this kid you'd be down in a second.
"It's not her fault that I have good hearing." Fraser reiterated.
"Have you thought of ear plugs?"
"But then I won't be able to hear anything."
Ray let that slide without comment.
"Fraser, you have to talk to her. It's making you nuts, okay, it may be icing on the cake, but you've never left your post."
Fraser sagged and Diefenbaker whined in response,
"Hey, I know. I'll talk to her." Ray took charge - he didn't like it when his friend slumped. "There are noise abatement laws. I'll be able to tell if the music's too loud. Or I'll buy her some earphones, she's a student, she probably can't afford a headset." Ray grinned. "I'll sort it out, Benny."
Fraser smiled tentatively.
Ah, Ray realised, that's what Benny was writing about. He couldn't figure this one out - he didn't know what to do. And I guess he wanted, needed, somebody else, just once to handle it.
"It'll be all right, Benny." Ray leaped up energetically and then pulled the mountie to his feet. He held his friend firmly. "I promise."
fini