Hi all!
I've been away from my e-mail and I just finished catching up on my
digests. I got all excited when I saw the Halloween Challenge. Here's
my contribution. Hope you like it! (Hey, Carol!
Disclaimer: No copyright infringement intended. All characters are the
property of Alliance.
Rated PG for the headless corpse and one swear word used "in character".
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It was October 31 and St. Michael's Catholic Church was holding its
Fifth Annual Halloween Charity Bash in the old Chicago auditorium.
It was a spooky, run-down structure that was scary enough without the
gruesome special effects Constable Benton Fraser had so painstakingly
constructed for this year's events.
For an exorbitant fee, dauntless thrill seekers were given a guided
tour--guaranteed to chill their blood--a costume ball and cocktail party.
The haunted house was in full swing, the ancient auditorium resounding
with unearthly shrieks, moans and wails.
"Fra-ser!"
Ghastly yells were a rudimentary part of the haunted house, but this
one sounded real.
"Coming!" Fraser shouted, weaving his way through the crowd
toward the basement where Ray was waiting. As he made his way down the
steps, the yelling began again.
"Fra-ser! Get over here! This damned guillotine is going nuts!"
"Calm down, Ray," Fraser said. "I'm coming."
"Calm down?" Ray shouted, in sarcastic disbelief, his voice garbled
by the mask he wore. "Here I am, sweating to death in a stupid werewolf
costume, which, by the way, is now covered with red goo that looks like
some kid yacked creamed beets all over it, and you want me to calm down?
God! Why do I let you talk me into these hare-brained schemes of yours?"
In order to blend in with the crowd Fraser was dressed up as Snow White.
His makeup was flawless and there wasn't a hair out of place on the
long dark wig. The deep folds of the dress and the dark blue sash tied
at his waist concealed the tool belt he wore. His face was composed
but his blue eyes twinkled merrily.
"It's for a good cause, Ray. Here, let me help you clean up," Fraser
said, pulling a handkerchief out of one of his pockets.
"Get away from me, Constable!" Ray said, yanking the handkerchief out
of Fraser's hand. "I can do it by myself! I'm not a baby!"
"I never said you were," Fraser replied.
"Well, good," Ray grumbled, dabbing at his costume. "And I
wouldn't call raising money for juvenile delinquents a good cause."
"Ray, Ray, Ray," Fraser admonished. "They're not juvenile
delinquents, they're unfortunate children from broken homes."
"You call them what you want," Ray said, pocketing the handkerchief
as he turned to walk away. "In my book, they're juvenile delinquents.
Do you know what they're going to do with that money?"
"Huh!" Fraser said.
Something in the tone of Fraser's voice, stopped Ray in his tracks.
"What?" He turned back to find Fraser investigating a mockup of a
headless body undergoing dissection.
"Ray, take a look at this body and tell me if you recognize it, please,"
Fraser said, grimly.
"Fraser, it hasn't got a head. How do you expect me to recognize it
without a head?" Ray asked. "Besides, that corpse is made out of wax."
"No," Fraser replied. "It's real."
"Real?"
"Yes, Ray. And I believe I know who it is."
"Who?" Ray asked.
"Take a look at the ring he's wearing," Fraser said.
Ray moved closer to the corpse and bent down to take a look at the
ring. It was a large gold ring with the letter 'Z' raised on it. He
looked up at Fraser in stunned disbelief. "Zuko?"
"I believe so, yes," Fraser said.
"Somebody finally got revenge on Frank," Ray said. "What an
ironic twist that he would get murdered on Halloween."
"His body is still warm, Ray. That means the killer can't have gotten
too far. If we hurry, we should be able to catch him. In fact, I don't
think we'll have to leave this room to catch him."
"What are you talking about?" Ray asked. "Of course, we'll have to
leave this room. There's no one here but you and me. You didn't kill
him and I didn't kill him..."
"I'm sorry, Ray," Fraser said. "But I think you *did* kill him."
"What?" Ray asked, astounded. "You think *I* killed him?"
"Yes, I do," Fraser replied.
Ray began to laugh. "Oh! I get it! You're playing a Halloween trick
on me."
"It's no trick," Fraser said.
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard!" Ray said.
"You can come out now, Ray," Fraser called over his shoulder.
"What are you talking about?" Ray asked. "I'm right here. How can
I come out of anywhere?"
"Because you're not Ray," Fraser said. "You...are Frank Zuko."
"Don't be ridiculous!" Ray replied. "Zuko is dead! You saw him yourself."
"No. What I saw, was what you wanted me to see. A headless,
dead body wearing your ring."
"Let's suppose, just for a moment, that you're right," Ray said. "Whose
body is it?"
"Michael Sorrento," Fraser replied.
"And what makes you think that?" Ray asked.
"Revenge. He was trying to edge you out of the business so he could
take over. He tried to frame you for the murder of Detective Guardino
and he made you look like a fool in front of your associates and your
customers. You missed your chance to kill him before and when you heard
he had escaped from jail, you decided to try again. This time you succeeded.
You've been having financial problems and you thought that if you died,
your family could collect on your life insurance policy. Then you could
move away and conduct your business under Mr. Sorrento's name. The plan
all came together when Charlie just happened to be at the costumer's
when Ray called in his order. Charlie called you, and you, figuring
that you could frame Ray for your murder, told Charlie to rent a werewolf
costume for you."
"But, how did I know Michael would be here?" Zuko asked.
"Your friend, Mr. Roastbeef, discovered Mr. Sorrento was hiding out
in the basement. He left a note from you telling Mr. Sorrento that
you wanted to meet with him tonight near the guillotine. Dressed in
the werewolf costume, you followed Ray here this evening, knocked him
over the head and dragged him into the bushes. You then stole his pass
and entered the building, searching out Mr. Sorrento. After you killed
him, you called me over because you had 'red goo' on your costume.
'Red goo' that is actually Mr. Sorrento's blood."
"What did I do with Michael's head?"
"I believe that, when we check, we will find you placed it in the guillotine
basket...assuming no one would check in there for his head...since there
was already a head in the basket."
"Nice piece of deduction, Constable," Zuko said, pulling the
werewolf mask from his head. His free hand came up to reveal a .38
Special. "Too bad you won't get a chance to tell anyone."
Another werewolf stepped out of the shadows from behind Fraser, leveling
a gun at Zuko's head. "Drop it, Frank," Ray said.
"Ray!" Frank said, cheerfully. "Please, join the party! The
Constable and I were just getting ready to bob for apples."
"Yeah, well, you'll enjoy bobbing for apples while you're in prison.
They use the toilet," Ray said, handing Fraser a pair of handcuffs.
"Drop it, Frank! Now!"
Frank lowered the gun slowly as two more policemen came down
the steps behind Ray. He spoke to Fraser, "I just have one
question...the mask distorted my voice...how did you know I wasn't Ray?"
"You called me 'Fraser', rhyming it with 'razor'," Fraser said, reaching
out to take the gun from Zuko's hand and passing it to Ray. "Turn around,
please."
"That's your name," Frank said, puzzled.
"Yes, it is," Fraser agreed, snapping the handcuffs in place. "But,
you see, Ray has always pronounced it 'Fray-shur' to rhyme with the
tree, Abies fraseri...Fraser Fir. Also, he has never...ever...called
me 'Constable'."
"He's all yours, boys," Ray said to the police officers. He turned
to Fraser as the cops led Zuko away, "Hey, Benny, listen. They're playing
our song."
"What song is that, Ray?" Fraser asked.
"Heart of Glass," Ray replied. "Wanna dance?"
"I'd be honored, Ray," Fraser said. "But aren't there any pretty women
you'd rather be dancing with?"
"Well, yeah, there *are* some pretty women," Ray said, a grin
spreading across his face. "But, in that costume...you're the best
looking woman here!"
"All right, Ray. Just so long as all you want to do is dance," Fraser
said.
"Shame on you, Benny," Ray said, with a laugh. "Everybody
*knows* we're just friends!"
"If you say so, Ray," Fraser replied.
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That's it...that's my story, gang! HAPPY HALLOWEEN!!!
Stephany
sasmith@surfer.pcsonline.com sasmith@mail.pcsonline.com
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THE HEADLESS HOODLUM
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