TAE
made a point of the fact that both Rays must be called "Ray". She
said she'd like to have an actual case, the Rays bicker and have long-suffering
Benny between them.
--------------
It
was a toss-up which venture would fall apart first, the search for the hand of
Franklin or the romance between Ray Vecchio and Stella Kowalski. Both
undertakings had important elements working against them. Ray Vecchio faced the
problem that Stella ultimately preferred women. This was not the problem for
Fraser and Ray Kowalski, (it was a condition they both shared, as it happened)
but rather the fact that Ray preferred weather that didn’t call attention to
itself.
Two
weeks into the expedition it became clear to Fraser and Diefenbaker that Ray
was not particularly happy. He began
slowly to stop griping and became silent most of the time. This tipped the
Canadians off that all was not well. One night over a campfire they discussed
it while Ray slept. Fraser and Dief decided that one of them should feign
illness. Fraser hated to be the one to
play false, even though unnecessary moaning and writhing wasn't actually lying.
Dief's
acting skills proved up to the task. Abdominal pains seemed generic enough, and
they had an excuse to head back to such civilization as was available in the
far north. Thence they returned to Chicago, with everyone feeling virtuous
about having made some kind of sacrifice. They resumed their old habits and
from time to time Ray Vecchio called to let them know what was happening in
Florida.
What
was happening in Florida was this: the bowling alley was a wild success .
Stella left him after three months, but as consolation Ray was raking in money
hand over fist.
So
successful was the bowling alley venture Ray found he could easily finance
another. What better place for the next in the “Ray’s Bowling” chain than his
hometown where his mother and his old friends could console him over his
breakup with Stella?
Dumping
Rays seemed to be a habit with her. So she went off in search of another
Ray-heart to break and Ray hired a Canadian assistant to run his bowling alley,
having found this nationality reliable in the past and there being no shortage
of Canadian “snowbirds” in Florida. So, three months later everyone was home:
Fraser with never any change in job and name, Ray with his old job but original
name, and Ray with his old name and new status as entrepreneur.
---------------------
Lt.
Welsh called Ray into his office.
“New
assignment, Kowalski. Right up your alley. Seems somebody bombed a bowling
establishment.”
“Right
up my alley. Very funny, sir.”
“Don’t
mean it that way. I mean the owner of the bowling alley is somebody we all know
and love.”
“Don’t
tell me.”
“’Fraid
so, Detective.”
Ray
ran both hands over his spikes. “Why
me? Don’t you need somebody neutral?”
“Here’s
the thing,” Welsh leaned back in his chair and made a large stretch, a gesture
designed to make the moment somehow more casual. Ray wasn’t buying it, however.
He stayed tense. “Fraser’s going to want to help investigate this, so I figured
if I give you the case, he can do it officially.”
“Fraser’s
not official. Never was.”
“Granted,
but this way at least it’s officially unofficial. So it’s the two of you. Go
solve it, Kowalski.”
“What’s
to solve? Has to be Zuko.”
Welsh
leaned forward again. “Assumptions? Did I ever teach you to make assumptions?
You get paid for detective work. Go detect.”
----------------------
Ray
and Fraser found Ray standing in the burned out ruins of his latest business
venture. Upon seeing them, he picked his way through the rubble to where they
were and gave Fraser a hug. “Benny. Good to see you.” Then he glanced at Ray and muttered, “Kowalski.” The terse word fell just short of being an
actual greeting.
Ray
took the Mountie by the arm and tugged him away from Ray. “Here’s what I
figured so far, Benny .” whereupon he begun outlining the evidence.
“Just
a minute, um, sir,” Ray put in from behind. “You want to maybe just give me the
facts?” So saying, Ray pulled out his police notebook and a pencil.
Ray
gave him a withering look. “I’m beyond the facts already.” Significantly. “Detective.”
“Sir,”
also significantly, "maybe you
should let the police handle this.”
“I’m
police.”
“Not
anymore, Vecchio. You’re a pin-jockey.
Me and Fraser, we’re police.”
“Well,
Ray, since I’m not in my own jurisdiction, that’s not entirely an accurate . .
. ”
“Shut
up, Fraser”
“Yeah,
shut up, Fraser.”
“Sorry,
Ray. “
Ray
and Ray looked at each other fiercely, daring the other to take ownership of
Fraser’s response. Fraser picked up on the fact that he was one apology
short. “Sorry, Ray,” he added.
“So,
Vecchio, you wanna just tell us what happened?”
Ray
took twenty minutes and a lot of pointing and arm waving to talk them through
what he knew of how his bowling alley had got from bowling alley to smoking
rubbish pile. Ray took copious notes all the way through the story. Fraser
drifted about, sniffing, poking and tasting as he listened. At a strategic
point, he pocketed a piece of paper which, for reasons which are not important
right now, didn't get all burned up.
Ray
then asked Ray a series of questions. To each, Ray answered with some variant
of “I already told you that. I thought
you were taking notes.”
“Gotta
be Zuko.” opined one Ray. (Pick one. Doesn't matter)
“So,
at least we agree on that,” said the other Ray (the other one you didn't pick
before.)
“I
have a hunch,” said Fraser.
“You
don’t have hunches!” both Rays exclaimed together. (Again rendering unimportant
which Ray was which.)
‘I
had one of YOUR hunches, Ray. Sure felt good.” He made a point of looking first
at Ray and then at Ray, just to avoid trouble. “If you two don’t mind, I’ll see
you both later.”
Whereupon,
Fraser headed over to the sidewalk, hailed a cab, and took off to parts unknown,
leaving the Ray’s to interact without any buffer.
--------------------
The
parts didn’t remain unknown for long. Fraser went straight to the 27th
and found Francesca behind her desk.
“Francesca,
we have to talk.”
“Sure
Fraszh, what’s up.” She wasn’t being as simpering and coy as she usually was,
which went to confirm for Fraser the suspicions he’d been having. Fraser
motioned for her to follow him.
He
took her to the corridor and said, “Francesca, I’m afraid it is necessary for
you to face the wall.”
She
looked puzzled. “The wall of reality? You getting married, Fraszh?”
“No,
Francesca, I mean turn around, spread your legs and place both hands against
the wall.”
Her
face lit up. Action at last! Not the kind she was expecting and sort of embarrassingly
public, but she’d take what she could get!
“I’m performing a citizen’s arrest for arson. You bombed your brother’s bowling alley, didn’t you?”
He
outlined the evidence to her: the scent of her usual cologne, bits of broken
fingernail the colour of her favourite polish, threads of the same material as
her favourite skirt. As a final, telling indictment he held a slip of paper
under her nose which, in her very own handwriting, said, “I did it. So sue me.
Francesca.”
“Why,
Francesca?”
She
sniffed. “He’s insured, he won’t be hurt in the long run. I just wanted to get
your attention, Fraszh. Coming to your room didn’t do it. Arranging myself a
marriage didn’t do it. Crying over your freakin’ corpse didn’t do it. Working
right under your nose all the time didn't do it. What’m I supposed to do? All I
could think of was committing a crime.”
Fraser
thought about it. He did seem to like female criminals. Maybe . . .
“Francesca,
how about this? You turn yourself in and plead guilty, there will be a minimal
jail term, and when you get out I’ll take you to a little place called
Fortitude Pass.
LL&P
The Moo