Part 19 ~ Monday 2 May 1994

 

 

Breakfast was nice – forget the food, it was the long, knowing looks and the level of smug satisfaction that went along with them.

“Okay, today will be all interviews and statements,” Ray said with a sigh. “Have you been told to go in?”

“Lieutenant Welsh asked me to attend this afternoon. I thought this morning I’d visit the Consulate.”

“You have friends there?”

“Not particularly, but I know I’ll be welcome.”

“How Canadian,” Ray smiled.

“I’ll treat you to the entire Canadian national anthem if you keep that up.”

“Oh, yeah,” Ray said, mind zipping back to The Point. “You can sing. That was…”

“In tune, I hope.”

“Hot. That was hot.”

As was the heated stare that was exchanged following the statement.

“How is your bruise today?” Ben asked, pseudo-casually.

“Sore, but improving. The doctor said I was lucky there’s no bone or rib damage, so I’m grateful for that.”

“Me too.”

Ben unconsciously licked his bottom lip; it was an action certified to drive Ray insane.

“Work,” Ray announced loudly. “No being late today, let’s get it over with.”

With a single decisive nod, Ben was up and clearing their plates and coffee mugs away. Ray admired the view for a long moment before shaking himself out of it.

“Do you mind if I invite Stan over for dinner tonight?”

“Why should I mind?”

“Well… I need to bring him up to speed on what actually happened. You happy with me doing that? It’s a hard secret to keep. I won’t tell him if we’re not finished with the statements but, like we said, it looks like Welsh is going for a world record clearing this one up.”

Ben considered.

“You can tell him.”

“Poor Stan. All the Vecchio dirty laundry he has to deal with.”

“Lucky Stan.” Ray looked a question. “It means he’s on the inside. He has family.”

“I’ll use that argument when he’s luckily banging his head on the table.”

The day both dragged and hurtled. Welsh was ridiculously accommodating, Al was swanning around like a superstar, Stan was insular and grumpy and, for no good reason that Ray could fathom, oddly sorry for himself. Ben arrived at two, was kept waiting, which he accepted with a generous amount of Canadian politeness, and was still in with the investigating officers when Ray was ready to leave for home.

“Coming for dinner?” Ray asked Stan.

“You sure?”

“Why would I ask if I wasn’t?”

Stan gave a surly shrug and, rolling his eyes, Ray collected his coat and left the building.

 

It was only later when Stan arrived bearing a bag of frozen peas that the truth came out.

“What are these for?” Ray asked with a frown. “My current sore spot isn’t Kowalski related.”

“Okay, maybe it’s my sore spot. Ray, I should’ve been in that room with you. Then maybe you wouldn’t have got hurt at all.”

“And maybe things would have turned out very different and one of us wouldn’t be standing here now.”

“Look, you locked me out…”

“Charlie locked you out.”

“…and that ain’t what partners are about.”

Charlie locked you out.”

“And locked Red in.”

Ray paused for thought. Stan really needed to know what happened, it couldn’t wait for Ben to get there.

“Sit down, Stan. There’s some stuff you need to know.”

Stan went pale at those words, remembering the last time he’d heard them from Ray, and the subsequent turbulence. Head bowed in concentration, he listened as Ray calmly explained what had happened while Stan was trapped outside Frankie’s study. Ray was so surprisingly matter of fact about it he was able to prepare the food while he monologued. Eventually Ray sat opposite, and Stan looked at him with a graphic Holy Fuck expression.

“Red?”

“Yup.”

“Not Al.”

“No, like I said…”

“Red.”

“Benny.”

Stan slapped the table.

“When he turns up I’m gonna kiss him, and you won’t be able to stop me.”

Ray laughed at that.

“Well, you can try. But remember the three day question?” Stan thought back, found the reference, then nodded. “Turns out people can fall in love that quick.”

Stan spent a few seconds taking that in, then went to the freezer and brought out the peas, placing them very deliberately in front of Ray.

“Then I shouldn’t have brushed that off and said what I said.”

“You didn’t know any better.”

“I should have trusted you.”

“Why? I didn’t.”

Ray started to return the peas to the freezer. Paused.

“You want peas with this?”

Stan peered at what was sitting on the counter, waiting to be cooked. Nodded.

Quiet now, Stan went to the folder he’d brought with him, took out a copy of the award photo that Ben had stolen, and carefully refilled the empty frame. He stood the frame up. Then turned it down. Then stood it up. Ray watched with concern: he could almost see the cogs turning.

“What?” Ray finally had to ask.

“You and Red… Now it’s the real deal does that mean you’re gonna move to be with him?”

“We’ve had this conversation before.”

“Things were different then.”

“And it’s still too early to say. But… Like I said before, long distance is hard.”

“I know it’s selfish, but what happens to me if you go?”

“I’ll put you in a crate in the cargo hold with all the other pets.”

Stan glared, then the corner of his mouth twitched.

“That’s funny.”

“Right now, I’m not going anywhere.”

“Think Tuk…Takty…”

“Tuktoyaktuk.”

“…needs two extra cops?”

“I don’t think Canada will let you in if you can’t pronounce it.” Stan grunted an indecipherable reply. “Plus, I expect they do eye tests before they…”

“I do not need glasses!”

“You shot a car! You blew up a car!”

“We don’t know that was me!”

A key in the door brought the squabble to a halt. Ben said a quick hello and placed a bottle of red wine on the counter before heading for the bedroom to change out of his uniform.

“You going to tell the girls who killed Charlie?” Stan asked.

“Still thinking about it. I want to see if they treat Al any differently, and if they do… I don’t know.”

Ben came into the kitchen to catch the end of Ray’s comment, giving his shoulder an affectionate squeeze as he passed by in search of a corkscrew.

“If Francesca thinks Al killed Charlie, then she’ll blame herself for his death.”

“You think?” Ray snorted. “Like anyone’s going to give her the credit for it.”

Ben turned back.

“It’s almost as if you’ve forgotten the truth.”

That made Ray stop and think, but Stan was already nodding.

“So much of this doesn’t feel real. It started to get hazy when we were chasing after the phantom that killed Joey.”

“Art becomes life,” Ben observed.

“Art?”

“The subterfuge has been artful The two of you have given a superlative performance.”

“And Welsh was in the front row, cheering us on and wanting us to get away with it,” Ray said. His eyes met Stan’s. “Think one day we’ll have to take a harder look at him?”

“Nah. I’m on his side if he’s on our side.”

“Now you sound as crooked as me.”

“We’re not crooked,” protested Stan.

“Pragmatic,” Ben insisted, and Stan agreed with an enthusiastic gesture in the Mountie’s direction.

Ray got up to cook and, by consensus, the subject was dropped. The food was excellent, the atmosphere was chilled and, once the amusing anecdotes about previous cases and the oddities of living in a middle of nowhere Canadian town started flying, it became as enjoyable an evening as any of them had experienced in quite a while.

When Stan left at midnight, Ray and Ben moved closer, shoulder to shoulder, hand in hand on the sofa.

“How was the Consulate?”

“Oh, you know. Canadian.”

“You’re going to tell me you need to go home, aren’t you?”

Ben sighed.

“Yes. It was inevitable I’d be ordered back, particularly as I left without permission.”

“Technically speaking, you were still on the case.”

“Technically speaking,” Ben agreed. “But that carried no weight at all because of the way I left. I requisitioned a private plane and…”

“You stole a plane?”

“Essentially hitched a ride. The owner was happy to oblige me, but my superiors don’t see it that way.”

“So…?”

“Tomorrow.”

Ray closed his eyes and took a deep breath, tightening his grip on Ben’s hand.

“You can’t come up with some excuse, like… Welsh isn’t done with you yet?”

“I’m a witness to a homicide that’s being filed under justifiable self defence, nothing more, nothing that needs days of explanation.”

“This is all the time we got. Two of the least fun-filled days of our lives.”

“I’ve had fun,” Ben said simply. Ray looked at him as if he was mad. “You have no idea how boring my life usually is.”

“Boring and safe. We embrace the safe.”

“Chicago isn’t safe, and I won’t be here to come to the rescue when you need me.”

“You were here.”

“It took eighteen hours.”

“And this was exceptional.”

“I hope so.”

They fell into silent thought, Ben admiringly tracing the bones in Ray’s hand, over and over.

“It’s just a hand.”

“You’re perfect.”

“Don’t start that again.”

“You’re perfect to me. For me.”

More silence, before Ray stood up and pulled Ben to his feet.

“C’mon, let’s make the most of tonight. Happy thoughts.”

“You’re too sore.”

“We’ll be careful.”

Ben hesitated, deliberated, and graciously gave in.

 

 

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