Part 13 ~ Tuesday 19 April 1994

Stan, as predicted, woke on Ray’s sofa. He checked his watch: two fifteen in the afternoon. At some point today he’d have to report in to Welsh, but for the moment he had other concerns. After a swift visit to the bathroom, he edged into the bedroom, prepared to leave if Ray was still soundly asleep, but unsurprised to see him fully awake and deep in thought, staring intently at the ceiling as if the dangling light fitting held all the answers he needed.

“Hey,” he said quietly, expecting Ray to jump a foot in the air and verbally throw him from the room, but his partner simply waved him over.

Casually approaching the bed, as if this was everyday normal for Ray, Stan was further weirded out by the show of familiarity as Ray tapped the mattress beside him. Accepting that the invitation was to sit, Stan rejected it and slumped down beside Ray, joining him in the close examination of the ceiling before sneaking a look out of the corner of his eye. The outrage he anticipated was notable by its absence.

Exclusion zone astonishingly breached, Stan stretched and turned on his side to face his partner, studying the exceedingly serious face before reaching out a foot and jabbing Ray in the calf.

“This is like being kids. You do sleepovers when you were a kid?”

There was a pause that Stan suspected was building up to him being booted from the bed, but it turned out to be thinking time.

“Me and Frankie, maybe a couple of the other kids from school,” Ray answered easily, apparently grateful for avoiding what they really needed to discuss, and sounding like he’d been awake for a while. “Mostly me and Frankie.”

“It was always the two of you, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah. Backgrounds, y’know? Lot of parents wouldn’t want their kids anywhere near us and our families.”

“Missed him, haven’t you?”

“More than I realised.”

“And you’re gonna do some making up with him?”

“Why d’you think that?”

“The hospital, the funeral… Your face when you thought he was gonna die.”

Ray accepted Stan’s observations without argument.

“How bad do you think that would be?” he asked, glancing in Stan’s direction for the first time. “I keep getting told how he stepped in, more than once, saved me from—” Ray turned away and took a deep calming breath. “He’s been looking out for me.”

“I get it, you wanting to go there. But… It would take some working on. You think you can trust him?”

“Truthfully? I have no idea.”

“He’d need to be worth trusting. You wouldn’t want to get caught up in anything, or manipulated, or used…”

“I see that.”

“And you couldn’t let anything be misinterpreted or misunderstood, you’d have to be transparent, let Welsh know what’s going on…”

“Transparent, yeah.”

“Could ruin your reputation, however up front you are about it.”

“What reputation?” Ray all but snorted. “I don’t have a reputation”

“Yeah, you do. You’re a good cop, fair, an honest cop, everyone knows that.”

“Honest? Well, the way things are panning out, everyone’s gonna be wrong about that pretty soon.”

“Although… Welsh might like you getting closer to Frankie. Might think we’ll have a heads up if anything’s going down.”

“Wow. At this rate I’ll have an opportunity to betray everyone. I’m gonna be a popular man.” The sarcasm in Ray’s voice made Stan smile, but he saw the point. Could hardly miss it. “Y’know,” Ray’s tone softened, “I hate that you’ve been dragged into this. If it all comes out…”

“Hey, we stand or fall together. It’s been that way since the first bag of peas.”

“Stan…”

“And don’t forget how good your sisters have been to me. They took me in like family before you were even giving me the time of day. I’m not going to let them – or you – down.”

“But…”

“No buts, not about this. We’ll get through this. All of us. Okay?”

“I’m asking you to betray all of your principles.”

“No, you’re not, not when it comes to offing Joseph Vecchio. I told Red I wish I’d done it myself years ago.”

“You said that to Benny?”

“Yup.”

“Do I want to know what he said?”

“That he was grateful I’d left it so that Joey could die in his back garden. Because of you.” Stan expected that statement to bring a little joy, but Ray’s face was all about missing the Mountie. “Ray…”

“I’ll be fine. Probably.”

“You will. Definitely. Like I said, we’ll get through this. Okay?” Ray hesitated. “Okay?” Stan pressed.

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

They spent a few moments deep within their own thoughts before Stan finally, reluctantly got off the Zuko fence.

“Y’know… About Frankie. If it’s what you want…” Stan let out a resigned sigh. “Do it. Talk to him. Don’t let your guard down, but feel him out…”

“He’s not happy with his life.”

“Yeah, you said.”

“So… No, you don’t care about that, you hate him.”

“Hate’s a bit much. I’m torn right now, what with how he’s looked after you even when he thought you were trying to bring him in. And I’m thinking with me going away, with Red back in Canada… Maybe you need someone else having your back. And I can’t believe I’m saying this.”

“It’s a stupid idea.”

“Of course it is.”

“There’s a lot he’d have to understand. About conditions. So many conditions it may not be worth trying.”

“That’d be up to him.”

“Pop would’ve hated it.”

Stan chuckled.

“That’s a good enough reason to try.”

Happy to not be discussing the humungous elephant in the room, Stan took himself off to shower, while Ray lay listening to the faint sounds of running water and playing make believe that it was Ben, that his gorgeous lover would be coming back to bed, damp and delicious, ready to wipe his mind of everything but their being together. Then he wondered what Ben was doing at that exact moment, if he was at home, or at the Post. Diefenbaker would have been delighted to see him. Ray smiled and let it fade. Ben had been lonely before they’d met, regardless of who he was sleeping with or working with, and he’d chosen to return to that loneliness to protect Ray’s family. No affectionate phone calls, no intimate letters. The loneliness they both faced…

Ray forced the thought aside, not prepared to tolerate more hours of self-pity and tears after yesterday’s wallowing. He rose and pulled on some sloppy old comfort clothes, deciding on good coffee and a massively unhealthy breakfast – late lunch, rather – to say thank you to his unbelievably tolerant and indulgent partner. Who’d spent the night, no, day – his body clock was totally screwed now – on his sofa just to watch over him after all the horrendous revelations. The appreciation tightened his chest. You had to hand it to Stan, not much could faze him. Even when Ray had sobbed out the truth about his father’s death, Francesca’s part in it, his family’s side-stepping and misdirection, Stan hadn’t baulked, just edged into the zone and let his arm creep around Ray’s shoulders, assuring him in hushed tones that this could be, would be, dealt with. Coped with. Whatever it took, Ray would be fine. His father was dead, the girls would be safe, and Ray would be fine.

With an unexpected shudder, Ray turned his thoughts to the matter in hand and lit the stove, warming his hands over the naked flame and abstractedly wondering if Joey was doing them all a favour and burning in hell.

Stan wandered into the kitchen with his cell pressed to his ear and, once he ceased uh-huhing, handed his phone over to Ray.

“Vecchio,” Ray said warily, wondering what he was getting into.

“It’s Ben Fraser,” came the voice that almost caused Ray’s knees to give out. He was barely aware of being sat at the table before Stan turned off the stove and left the room.

“Ben,” Ray acknowledged, not Benny, reminding himself that this would be a formal courtesy call, and he had to play his part. Okay, yes, this was his Benny, but he could play his part. He hoped to God that he could play his part.

“I’ll just catch you up with what I’ve already told Stan. I’m putting you on speakerphone, Ray,” Ben cautioned. “Carol, could you pass me…”

Ray vaguely heard Carol pottering around in the background and understood that Ben was making sure that the call and its contents were witnessed. The murder was unsolved. No sisters involved.

“Okay.”

“I’ve had time to review all the reports compiled by officers in Tuktoyaktuk, Inuvik, and other locations of interest while I was in Chicago, and it appears quite conclusive that no new information of any use is forthcoming from this end of the enquiry. I’ve gone over everything we’d already covered in case something was missed, but double checking has brought nothing new to light. Any potential leads that you and I had previously discussed proved to be unsubstantial and have, predictably, gone cold. I’ll forward everything for you and Stan to scrutinize, but my instincts tell me that Joseph Vecchio’s murder was most likely tied to his work, therefore you should be concentrating on business associates or rivals. I suspect they’re the only ones with the backup and connections needed to carry out the murder and disappear without trace.”

“Yeah, we’ve been getting that same feeling. We’re taking another look at his crew.”

“I’ve already informed Lieutenant Welsh of my findings and, unless some new information should be presented to us, he’s quite satisfied that this detatchment’s involvement with the investigation is essentially over.”

Ray was relieved to be sitting down as shock rippled through his body, no longer needing to play a part as the revelation caused a very real reaction. Over? As in…over?

“But… It’s…worth keeping in touch, on the off-chance…”

“I will definitely keep in touch. You’ve been through – are going through – a traumatic time, and if I can be of any support, you need not hesitate to ask.”

“Thanks. Really, thank you.”

“You may even wish to re-visit the area where your father died, in which case…”

“Yeah, I can see myself doing that,” Ray quickly agreed, clinging to any excuse to see Ben again. “Might help lay a ghost to rest.”

Ray heard Carol suggest something in the background, and Ben repeated it, although somewhat reluctantly.

“Perhaps your sisters…”

“No. Just…no.”

“Of course, you’ll know what’s best for them.”

“With Pop’s business, it feels dangerous. This was Joey Vecchio, he was the biggest deal next to Frankie Zuko. Doesn’t matter about me, but…not the girls.”

“Understood.”

“I need to keep them as far away from the investigation as possible, can’t risk anyone thinking they know something. Until we have an idea who did this we gotta be careful.”

“Ray, I appreciate that you’ll want to follow the investigation through to the best of your ability, but Lieutenant Welsh and I came to the same conclusion: the likelihood of any of Joseph Vecchio’s associates being willing to testify…”

“You don’t have to tell me that, I grew up knowing all about honour among dirtbags.”

“Still, I would appreciate it if you would take every precaution until this investigation is resolved or officially shelved.”

Ray’s mind was already racing ahead.

“If we don’t take anyone in for this, the uncertainty might be enough to make the different crews within Zuko’s outfit turn on one another.”

“I agree, and from what we witnessed when Frankie Zuko was shot, it wouldn’t take much to instigate a coup.”

“You noticed that?”

“Let’s just say that loyalty to Zuko was not the first reaction of many of his men.”

“Frankie’s in trouble,” Ray thought out loud, disturbed at how much that troubled him.

There was a pause as Ben attempted to find the best way to ask what he wanted without compromising either of them.

“So, Ray, how are you?” Yup, simple as that. “It’s been a dreadful time for you and I’m sorry we haven’t been more help.”

“You’ve been great,” Ray replied rather too honestly before catching himself. “Your Detachment isn’t exactly set up to deal with mob hits, and you and Carol turned over every stone that wasn’t frozen to the floor.” Ben’s gentle laugh at that made every hair on Ray’s body stand on end. “I’m not okay yet, but I’ll get there. I’m a lucky guy, I have…friends.”

“You do,” Ben agreed, and that voice was so sweet Ray just had to change the subject before he said something he really, really should not say.

“How…how’s the wolf?”

“Diefenbaker is going on a diet. He has Carol wound around his paw and, in my absence, she’s been spoiling him to excess.”

In the background Carol laughingly protested, and Ray smiled as he heard Diefenbaker grumbling over the prospect of a diet.

“And you?” Ray asked Ben in the absence of the hundred things he really wanted to say. “How are you?”

“I’m well, thank you. Hoping to visit the Canadian Consulate in Chicago in the near future, so we’ll have the chance to catch up.”

“That’s… I’ll – we’ll, me and Stan will be happy to do that.”

“I’ll be in touch, Ray. Take care.”

“You too.”

The connection ended and Ray laid Stan’s phone on the table, staring at it and pining for Ben’s now absent voice, but also taking time to let it sink in that, if the Canadian side of the enquiry was effectively closed down, Ben had clearly done his part in keeping the family safe. Now it was up to him and Stan.

“Wanna go eat?” Stan’s voice broke into his daze, who knows how long later.

“Sure,” Ray said absently. He finally looked up as Stan retrieved his cell and slipped it into a pocket. “Hey… Why do you think he called you?”

“He didn’t. I called him.”

“You— Why?”

“Because you needed to talk to him, even if it was all business.”

“It was all business, it was…safe. Carol heard. All business.”

“You feel better for talking to him?”

“Yes.” Ray considered. “No. Just reminds me that ‘cause of me he’s gone.”

“Okay, but ‘cause of you he was here.”

“He’s gone, we’re done. Why wouldn’t we be done,” Ray despondently stated rather than asked.

Stan watched his friend’s misery for a long moment.

“Ray?” It took a few seconds but eventually Ray glanced up. “Before he went… Did you try out the three day question? Drop any hints, make any casual enquiries, throw him the tiniest bone?” Stan threw his hands in the air at the utter denseness on Ray’s face. “Did you tell him how you feel about him? Really feel?”

Ray looked aghast.

“No.”

“Okay. Now, you know what the next question’s gonna be, and I bet you’ve got a real good answer.”

“You asking why not?”

“On the nose.”

“Come on, Stan. How could I…? I didn’t know how to tell him. I didn’t know if I should, if it was just too soon, ‘cause of course it’s too soon. I may be new to this stuff, but I wasn’t about to scare him off by making it more than it is and making sure he never wants to see me again. As if it’s not already on the cards that I’ll never see him again.” Ray turned a watery gaze on Stan, who was trying his best to look sympathetic despite it being obvious that he thought he was dealing with an idiot. “I didn’t know how to tell him,” Ray admitted weakly. “I’ve never said it to anyone before, I didn’t know how it would land.”

“Jeez, for a smart guy you’re pretty stupid.”

“So, I’m…?”

“The un-detecting detective, yes. A huge yes.”

“You think he’d wanna hear it?”

“Yes!” exploded out of Stan. “It’s obvious he—”

“Don’t say it! Don’t say it, I can’t… I just…can’t.”

“You just can’t,” Stan mused. “Then how about… Maybe it isn’t love at all,” Ray flinched at the L word, but Stan pressed on. “What if you just needed someone to lean on, and he was there? If I’d gone to Canada with you to identify Joey…?”

“Yeah, I see what you’re saying. In usual circumstances I’d’ve leant on you and wouldn’t have needed anyone else.”

“That’s it. I’d’ve been looking after you, propping you up, feeding you pills for your head and…”

“The minute I saw him I would have forgotten you existed.”

“That bad?”

“I’m sorry, and I’m not sorry, and… Yeah.”

Stan couldn’t be bothered to feel insulted, he simply gave Ray a few minutes to deal with the guilt, and took them back on track.

“Shall we try sticking to the case?”

“Oh, God, can we?” Ray all but pleaded, “Back to basics, okay?”

“Okay,” Stan agreed. “I called him because we need to know if anything new has turned up that’s going to bite us all on the ass. That harmless enough for you?”

“Yeah. You calling makes sense. I’m being overcautious. We’re investigating a murder, not planning a date.” Stan let pity overwhelm his irritation at Ray’s obtuseness, smiled benevolently as he took a seat. “He tell you what Welsh said?” Ray asked. “About not expecting anyone to talk?”

“Yep, and I doubt Welsh is losing sleep over it. He’s never been shy about his feelings for Zuko’s outfit, and Joey was front and centre.”

“Okay, but… What if an unsolved hit at this level puts all the other scumbags on high alert and makes them trigger happy. What then?”

“Let’s be honest. Take what we know out of the picture and this was always something that’s going to be dealt with internally. Didn’t Frankie say as much?”

“And you’re not losing sleep over it either.” Stan shrugged. “You thinking…what? That so long as innocents don’t get in the way it isn’t the worst thing?”

Stan shrugged a second time.

“Suits us. Stop thinking like a cop and think like a brother. Besides, from what Frankie told you, it’s gonna be happening sooner rather than later anyway.”

“He’s not cut out for this, and he’s going to be up against the likes of my Pop. Ruthless thugs that usually do Frankie’s dirty work are now going to be gunning for him.”

Low level panic rippled through Ray. Apparently, he was still too much of an honest cop for his own good, and it would be a challenge to accept the department standing back and letting Frankie Zuko get assassinated by his own people, just because Ray needed to bury some highly unpalatable truth. Stan could see it written large on Ray’s face, the naïve longing to keep everyone out of trouble, and made the decision for both of them.

“Ray, listen to me. There are other people who matter more.”

“Frankie…”

“Will have to look after himself.”

“But…”

“If he can’t, know what it is? Tough. You lay down with dogs, you get fleas, and sometimes those fleas bite. He’s had all the benefits of his life choices, and now he may be facing the flip side of that, but it’s not…”

“He saved my life!” Ray protested. “As much as I don’t want to think about it, if it wasn’t for Frankie my pop would have had me killed.”

“Joey was going around Frankie this time, and your girls saved you. Your girls saved you and nothing else matters,” Stan ground out, finally shutting Ray down.

Giving up on the idea of eating out, and fed up with his grumbling stomach, Stan headed for the fridge and gazed inside for a while, before whipping out his cell and calling for pizzas.

“I’ll talk to Frankie,” Ray eventually said. “Least I can do is warn him.”

“Do that,” Stan agreed. “You also want to thank him.”

“For…?”

Stan gave Ray a grim smile.

“Letting Francesca get away with murder.”

The Three Day Question 14       The Three Day Question Index       Notes

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