The Third Woman - Part II


If Turnbull ever shows up dead in some kind of a locked room murder mystery, the first person Homicide should question is me. I take that back - the list of people who want to kill Turnbull is a long one, and growing every day.

Elaine stopped by my desk to tell me about the murder at the Vickie's apartment building; that, plus the info faxed to me from my friend in the C.I.A., told me it was time to reel Fraser in - see, I'd had a hunch about Vickie and her charity work and I'm almost sorry to say it panned out. At any rate, I figured if I stayed at the district, it would only make it easier for Internal Affairs to find me, so I went over to the Canadian Consulate. Turnbull told me Fraser wasn't there, the Dragon Lady popped her head out of her office and demanded to know where Fraser was, and the next thing I knew, the two of us were doing this back-and-forth, Abbot and Costello routine.

"Where's Constable Fraser?"

"I was just lookin' for him myself."

"I thought he was with you."

"Whaddaya mean, with me? I thought he was here."

"I sent him to you over an hour ago."

"I appreciate the thought, but the package didn't get delivered."

"I told him to take a cab."

"I don't care if you told him to take a dog sled, he never got there!"

"Well then, Detective Vecchio, WHERE IS HE?!"

"Constable Fraser is at the Dearborn Street Book Club," Turnbull said.

Me and Thatcher looked at Turnbull like he just sprouted another head.

"What the hell," I said, "is Fraser doin' at the Dearborn Street Book Club?"

"I don't know," Turnbull said. He leaned towards me and the Dragon Lady and tapped the side of his nose, a gesture I figure he picked up watching some spy movie. "I assumed that information was on a need-to-know basis," he said.

I was gonna go get Fraser, but instead I called up Duck Man and sent him over to rescue the Mountie because I wanted to talk to Thatcher.

She brought me up to date on Fraser's last twenty-four hours; he had been getting around quite a bit. Then she told me about their aborted mission to tackle the upstairs neighbor, and I laughed.

"What's so funny?"

"Nothin'. I just got this image of you two playing Good Cop, Bad Cop with Koch. I wish you'd gotten the chance."

"Believe me, so do I! Constable Fraser thinks his having mentioned a witness to the accident to Ms. Jones might have been the cause of his murder."

"Nah, Koch was dead more than twelve hours by then. That don't let Fraser totally off the hook, though - I think Koch was killed shortly after Fraser left the apartment building. I think someone was tailing him and stayed behind to clean up house."

"The third woman!"

"Maybe." I checked out The Dragon Lady; the excitement of the chase had put some color in her cheeks and sparkle in her eyes. I've seen this before, all cops get juiced up like that when they've got ahold of a case that's on the verge of breaking open, but on Thatcher it looked particularly good. I was going to give her the info I had gotten from my friend in the C.I.A.; I would have liked to have commiserated with her on it - it stands to reason, the one thing I share with Thatcher is a deep dislike of Victoria - but that's when Jack showed up with Fraser.

Thatcher made like she wanted to talk to him, but I just shook my head a little and she sat back in her chair, a worried look on her face. I grabbed his arm and hustled him into his office; what I had to tell him needed privacy. He was graciously bidding Detective Huey a pleasant afternoon, thanking him for the ride even as I shut the door in Jack's face. I pushed him into his chair and put the desk between us. He seemed a little put out by my rough handling, but sat there, looking game and probably wondering what I had up my sleeve. "You been getting around quite a bit," I said, "Thatcher brought me up to speed about your last twenty-four hours."

"Yes," he said. "It was under my nose, but I didn't want to believe it."

"What?"

"That she was murdered." That took me by surprise: not that she'd been murdered, but that Fraser accepted it so calmly.

"Go on," I said. I wanted to hear it first-hand from him, now that I'd heard it mostly second-hand from Thatcher. He told the story pretty much as she had, talking about a witness who had seen the accident and the third woman. He obviously placed a lot of importance on this third woman - it was really bothering him, this loose end - that, and Koch's murder.

"She did not turn up at the inquest, and the others lied to keep her existence a secret. Koch was safe until he told me about her - then they murdered him."

"As far as we know, you were the last person to see him alive." Like I said before, I asked him if he'd seen anyone on the stairs, or in the street; he hadn't. "Homicide is gonna stick this one on you, we don't figure this out. The super told them he saw you there last night - a Mountie accompanied by his wolf, not like there's a question about who that is. Who else knew about Koch?"

"I told Carol Jones." His eyes narrowed, and for a moment I thought he was wincing. "Is it possible immediately I left her office, she telephoned someone - perhaps the third woman? They had to silence Koch."

"When you told Jones about Koch, he was dead already. That night, he went down to the laundry room to run his skivvies through the gentle cycle, and--" I made a gesture with my thumb cutting across my throat.

"Ah. I was gone by then."

"Did you go straight home after you saw Victoria's apartment? Because the coroner put the death at about nine."

He shook his head. "No. Diefenbaker and I got home at about nine-thirty."

"Where were you before that?"

He said gloomily, "Wandering around the city, trying to sort things out. It was so beautiful and quiet."

"Any evidence of your movements?"

"No."

"One way or another, you are in big trouble, Benny. Although what they're gonna come up with for motive, I don't know." It was time for me to tell him, and I didn't want to. As depressed as he was now, in a few minutes, he was going to be more depressed. "Benny? I called a friend of mine in the C.I.A. and got some info on Victoria. Sorry - just pokin' my nose in where it ain't wanted, what else is new. You're not gonna like this."

"She was involved some sort of illegal activity, wasn't she, Ray."

"Yeah, Benny."

"Let me guess. Money-laundering?"

"No. Nothin' so harmless."

That made him sit up. "Perhaps - perhaps Victoria did get mixed up in something criminal. Perhaps she was trying to clear out again, and that's why they murdered her."

"Or maybe," I said, "somebody wanted a bigger cut of the loot. Thieves fall out."

To my surprise, he took that without any anger at all. He said, "We'll never agree about her motives, Ray."

I could have let it lay... but I couldn't. He had to know. I said, "I'll give you the facts in Victoria's case, Benny. But don't go flyin' off the handle on me. This is gonna hurt."

It could not help but hurt. This kind of racket was a new one on me, never having been outside of the US of A, where if you get sick, your doctor writes you a prescription and you get it filled at the corner drugstore, no problem. There are few things in the world more vile, more disgusting, than the black-market drug dealers who work places like Bosnia, or Rumania, or any of the Third World countries, where daily struggle for survival is a way of life. People like that are vultures, feeding off of the human misery and pain you find in those parts of the world, with their black market drugs.

Because we're not talking narcotics here; we're talking, for instance, penicillin. Say it's in short supply in one of these countries, air-lifted into the country every so often by a charity or something, so it brings a good price on the street. It starts off with an orderly maybe stealing some from the hospital he works at to sell it for the pocket-change it'll bring him. Then it starts getting organized - the big boys see big money in it, and they start running the racket like a business. Next step, the big boys begin to think they're maybe not making enough money, they want the profits bigger, and to get it quicker while the getting is good. So they start diluting the product. Sometimes, if the patients are lucky, they're injected with a weak dose of penicillin - if they're lucky, they only develop an immunity to the drug, or lose a foot or a leg to an infection that doesn't get cured. Because sometimes the stuff it's cut with is a little more dangerous than tap water.

That was Victoria's racket, with her charitable works in all those places that so desperately needed help as a perfect cover. The C.I.A. was on to her specifically in Rumania. They were able to form a link to Victoria through a woman she'd black-mailed into helping them there, a nurse named Nadia Dumansky, who was up to her under-paid elbows in corruption when Interpol had sussed her out. She led them to the person who cut and packaged the drugs, Anna Sachet. Penicillin traced back to this particular business enterprise was thought to be responsible for the deaths of an entire ward of children in some tiny, backwater town's pathetic excuse for a hospital.

"Anna Sachet!" Fraser looked confused. "But why haven't arrested her yet?"

"Soon, Benny - according to my friend, zero hour is almost here."

Sachet had been a big step for the Feds, because she was in direct communications with Victoria. I passed him a copy of a note to Sachet that had been intercepted, my friend had faxed it over to my office. "Familiar handwriting?"

"It's... it's in Victoria's hand." He read it through. He read it through again.

"She was the boss, Benny; the brains, the big cheese. Victoria." He didn't say anything - I suppose when the world is ending, you find there's not a lot to say. Because a world was ending for Benny; a world of snow and cold and finding one person to share your warmth with in that world; a clean, white place that had come into being ten years ago and had somehow remained untouched despite what had happened in Chicago a year-and-a-half ago. Every memory - those few days they'd spent together, the morning smiles over the cups of coffee, the afternoons in front of a television without sound, the nights in a bed too small for one adult, let alone two - every shared experience was suddenly and simultaneously tainted, like - like the land around Chernobyl. No one's going to walk there safely for a good, long time, if you know what I mean.

He sat there, looking at his hands. I wished he was a drinking man, I wanted to push a whisky at him or something; heck, I could have used one myself.

He said slowly, "They are certain she was the real organizer?"

"They were pretty thorough, Benny."

"I suppose," he said, "I suppose she could have been black-mailed into it, if someone knew who she was and that the police were looking for her."

"It's possible." I didn't contradict him, I knew he would get around to the truth eventually, when it didn't hurt so much.

"And they murdered her to stop her from talking when she was arrested."

"Not impossible."

"I wouldn't have liked to have seen her arrested. I don't think she would have been able to stand being incarcerated again. It would have destroyed her." He folded the copy of the note and placed it carefully on his desk in a strange little movement, very precise, as if to say, 'well, that's that.'

"When we find the third woman...," I said.

"I'd like to see her arrested," he said. "That bitch."


After he left me, Fraser went straight out of the Consulate, for one of his walks through the city; thinking, fitting the pieces together, working out his next move. He walked through Chinatown, through the park, through the financial district; through good neighborhoods, then a bad one, then a good one again. He was alone; Diefenbaker had decided to stick with me while Fraser was acting so weird. The afternoon shadows lengthened into evening, and the street lights came on; and still he walked, his mind revolving in circles - from sentiment to cynicism and back again from belief to fear. The snow began to drift down again, muffling the street noises and blurring the neon lights, and he was in his own little world as he walked.

It must have been almost midnight when he came back down to earth and realized that he was standing in front of the Dragon Lady's swanky building. He knew the townhouse on sight - he'd picked her up there on many an occasion when chauffeuring her to charity balls and benefits. He was nearly frozen through by that time and had only one idea in his head, that she had to be told about Victoria, too. When Thatcher opened the door to him, astonished at the sight of him shivering on the threshold, it never occurred to him that she might turn him away. She didn't.

He said, "I've found out everything."

"Get in here!" she snapped, "What's wrong with you, Fraser? Don't you know enough to come in out of this weather?" She was wrapped up in a pink chenille robe, legs in striped flannel pajama bottoms, her feet bare. Her place was as tidy as you'd expect the Dragon Lady to keep her lair, except for some files spread across the coffee table in the living room she ushered him into.

"Now," she said, while he stood there, fumbling for words, "what is it? Are the Chicago police after you?"

"No. Well, possibly. Perhaps. No."

She looked at him dubiously. "Are you drunk, Constable?"

He was shocked. "Certainly not!" the meeting seemed to him to have derailed somewhere along the way. He said, "I'm sorry."

"Why? What did Detective Vecchio say to you to get you in this state. I thought you'd stop by my office before you left, imagine my surprise when I found you'd bolted. Vecchio wouldn't tell me anything - bizarrely, he tapped his nose and told me the information was on a 'need-to-know' basis. I wonder about that man sometimes."

Fraser said, "Detective Vecchio... Ray has been in contact with a friend of his in the C.I.A. He passed information from them on to me, about Victoria. I've learned everything. Victoria was involved in corruption on a grand scale."

"You'd better tell me," Thatcher said. She sat down on the couch and waved him to sit, too, but he wouldn't, and stood there, swaying slightly beside the coffee table where her files about the work-a-day, common, everyday occurrences at the Consulate still lay open. He probably told it to her pretty confusedly, dwelling chiefly on what had stuck most in his mind - the Rumanian children's ward, silent, the children dead of pneumonia and poison. He stopped and there was a moment of silence. Then she said, "Is that it?"

"Yes."

"They proved it to you beyond a shadow of a doubt?"

"Yes." He added wearily, "So there you have it, that was Victoria."

"I don't know why you're so surprised. Anyone who would shoot an animal at point-blank range for no reason other than to hurt its owner would certainly be capable of that sort of behavior."

He finally sank into her couch, bone-tired. He said hopelessly, "I'd always assumed her accomplice, Jolly, broke into the apartment and shot Diefenbaker."

She gave him a look of disbelief.

He shrugged. "I feel as though she never really existed, that I had somehow dreamed her up. Was she laughing at fools like me all the time?"

"Very probably. What does it matter now?" she said. "Relax. Take off your coat, for heaven's sake." Fraser didn't take off his coat, nor did he relax, but he watched her, listening. She went on, "If Victoria was alive now, she might be able to explain her actions to you, but she's not, so she can't. You thought you knew her, but there's always so many things that one doesn't know about a person, even a person one loves - good things, bad things. There's room enough in any personality for both. Even in Victoria Metcalfe's."

"Those children--"

She said angrily, "For God's sake, stop acting as though you're responsible for the things she did. She was involved in a drug-selling conspiracy. She did bad things. What can you do about it now? She's gone, and what you felt for her was outside of what she did. That was part of you, what you did and felt, Fraser, not her. It wasn't evil or dirty or even stupid."

He shook his head and said, "Words of wisdom... but it's only talk, it's not real. I can't just turn off how I feel. And when I mourn for her, I almost feel... ashamed." For that moment, exhausted, he actually relaxed into the couch, his head tilted back against the headrest. "Did you know," he spoke to the ceiling, not meeting her eyes, "that I actually thought there could never be another after her? That what we had was meant to last forever? But it didn't. Because it's you I love now."

She looked at him, apparently astonished at the turn the conversation had just taken. "Me?"

"Yes, you. You don't kill people with fake drugs. You don't lie or cheat or steal. You don't smuggle diamonds, burn down cabins, or shoot other people's wolves. The most mean-spirited thing I've ever seen you do is make people stand outside the Consulate in all kinds of weather. It pales, comparatively."

"But I'm your commanding officer. It's against the rules...."

"As opposed to what? Becoming enamored of a murderous criminal who frames your best friend for her crimes, then allowing her to escape arrest? I repeat, as a breach of the rules, it pales, comparatively." He tilted his head just enough to look her in the eye. "I don't think love is meant to necessarily conform to any rules," he explained carefully to her.

"Oh." That was all she could come up with. It was late, she'd had a rough day.

Suddenly restless, he stood and went to the window, pulling aside the curtain to watch the light snow filter down to the street below. Something odd caught his eye in that moment - a long shadow that had moved, or maybe it was just a cloud passing in front of the moon, but whatever it was, it was motionless again.

She said, "You still love Victoria, don't you?"

"Yes. I suppose I do in a way. I don't know." He dropped the curtain and said, "I think I'd better leave now."

He walked rapidly away from the townhouse, not looking behind him. He knew, he just knew, he was being followed, and it somehow seemed important to him at the time to get whoever it was as far from Thatcher as possible. You know, the usual misplaced Mountie chivalry. At the end of a street, he turned, and there, just around the corner, was a figure in a bulky coat, pressed against a wall to escape his notice. Fraser stopped and stared. There was something familiar about the figure. Perhaps, he thought, it's one of the Chicago P.D.'s detectives of homicide, shadowing me for my involvement with Mr. Koch's death. Fraser just stood there, twenty yards away, staring at the silent motionless figure in the dark side street, who stared right back. A cop? Or maybe not, maybe it was one of the people who had corrupted Victoria first and then killed her - or maybe it was even the third woman?

The face was not familiar to Fraser - he couldn't make out even the merest hint of a feature in the dark, the snow still coming down in fits and starts; it wasn't the movement either, because whoever it was stood so still that Fraser began to think the whole thing was an illusion. You know, like when you're a kid and it's dark in your room, and your coat hanging on a closet door becomes an ax-murderer who's going to kill you first, then take care of the rest of your family. He couldn't bring himself to walk towards the figure, but he couldn't just walk away - so he called out, "Can I help you?" The figure didn't reply. "Answer, can't you?" and an answer came, because a window curtain was pulled back by somebody checking out what idiot was yelling in the street in the middle of the night, and the light fell straight across the way and lit up the features of Victoria Metcalfe.


"Do you believe in ghosts?" Fraser asked me.

"Do you?"

"Yes. Oh, yes."

"Yeah, well; I also believe that if a man really wants to see someone again, he might see her even though she isn't really there."

It was two in the morning, and Fraser had come straight to me with his story. I only cussed him out for five minutes for waking me up before I sat down to listen to him. He looked terrible - the worst I'd ever seen the usually band-box perfect Mountie look; he needed a shave and had a haunted look in his eyes. I decided to add yet more joy to his life. "You're gonna love this one, Fraser - once the facts about Koch's death hit the news, your friend Ms. Jones called up Homicide and reported to them that you'd been there to see her and told her you'd seen Koch - she said it was her 'civic duty as a citizen' to report the matter. They thanked her kindly and told her they'd see to it - no warrants for your arrest from them yet, I think she weirded them out. Like you're weirding me out right now."

"I'm sorry, Ray. If it had been just the face, I wouldn't have worried. I had been thinking about Victoria, so why wouldn't I see her in a stranger's face? Some woman walking along a dark street late at night, frightened by a man she thinks might be following her, pressing herself against a wall, hoping he'll miss her. The light was turned off again immediately, you see; I only got the one glimpse. Then whoever it was took off down the street. There was no cross-street for quite a ways, but I was so shocked, I just stood there, giving whoever it was a good thirty yards' start. There was a truck parked there, and the figure went out of sight for a moment. I ran after her. It only took me ten seconds to reach the truck, but the odd thing was that she never appeared again. There wasn't anyone there. The street was very dark, but it was empty - the footprints just... stopped. She couldn't have reached a doorway, I would have seen it, heard the door creak on its hinges in the cold. What I could see of the truck, it was covered with snow and untouched. The woman, whoever it was, had simply vanished."

"Maybe it was a ghost, Fraze."

"No."

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because Victoria was a blonde."

"What?!"

"She was wearing a thick, bulky down coat, the hood pulled as far over her face as she could get it. But a wisp of straight, ash blonde hair managed to escape the confines of the hood. Now, if she were a ghost, why would the ghost have been a blonde?"

"Nicely logicked, Sherlock. It cannot have been a ghost because a ghost would not have dyed its hair. But a felon on the lam... now that's another story." I wasn't totally convinced, but I was getting there. It wasn't until the attempt on Margaret Thatcher's life that I was certain.

"Yes, Ray. Thank you, Ray."

I put on some running pants over my pajamas, and an old P.A.L. sweatshirt, and snowboots, and threw on my heaviest winter coat. It wasn't Armani, but then it was almost two-thirty in the morning, a horrific hour for anyone who isn't a vampire, and I had a hunch where Victoria had gone. I took the heavy-duty flashlight from under the sink where Ma keeps it, and traded looks with Diefenbaker, who was curled up in a box by the kitchen radiator. "You comin'?" His tail thumped a few times against the side of the box, but then he tucked his head back under the plaid blanket my sister Frannie had draped over him. I suddenly realized it was my blanket she'd given him. So that's where it had gotten to.

Thank God it had stopped snowing. Fraser and I piled into the Riv and took off for the place where Victoria had vanished. "Over there, Ray," Fraser said and I pulled up and double-parked. With all the snow heaped up against the curbs, finding a space would be impossible. He led me to the truck - a big, orange U-Haul - and I could see that no one had hidden in it, even in the dim light of a street lamp about six yards away. The snow sticking to the doors of the cab and on the top of the lock on the back door was smooth and undisturbed. We walked around to the other side of the truck. The street lamp had been broken, and it was pitch dark on that side, as well as under the truck. Ma's flashlight came to the rescue, and I shone it around the tires, then lay down on the icy, snow-packed ground and threw the beam of light under it. The beam revealed a round pool of inky darkness under the truck - a manhole, without its cover. "There ya go!"

Fraser joined me in the gutter to see. "Good God, I didn't imagine her!"

"I figured it'd be something weird like this. Does this chick love to mess with your mind, or what? She ran like hell, then threw herself down and rolled under the truck, and slid down the open hole. She probably even broke that street light. She must have known you'd be showing up at Thatcher's eventually and made arrangements beforehand. "

"But I didn't know I'd be visiting the Inspector!"

"Yeah? Well, maybe Victoria knows you better than you know yourself. I hope the sewer rats get her."

"So, you really believe it was Victoria?"

"Who else would pull this kinda shit on you?"

"Then who did they bury?"

"I don't know. But we soon will, because we are gonna dig her up again. No, not you and me with a shovel, Benny. I will get a court order." He looked relieved. "I bet you Koch wasn't the only inconvenience they got rid of."

"It's a bit of a shock, Ray."

"You could say that, Benny." I noticed his face had suddenly gone all wary. "What?"

"Victoria. As you said, Ray. She knows about... saw me at Margaret's... at the Inspector's apartment."

"So if Victoria's running true to form...."

"...Margaret is in extreme danger."

The Dragon Lady's townhouse wasn't very far. There was another car pulling out, so I actually got a parking spot directly in front. No one answered when we hammered on Thatcher's door, so we broke it down. Fraser hit it so hard, it splintered right off the hinges. Except for the broken door, the place looked untouched - but there was no Thatcher in evidence.

I remembered then how easy it was to get a space in front of the townhouse and the hair went up on the back of my neck. "Fraser! That car! The blue Chevy with the smoked-glass windows!" He raced out of the building, me a half-a-step behind all the way, and we jumped into the Riv. Fraser slapped the light onto her roof and we went screaming down the street after them, the siren winning us no friends in the neighborhood. Driving on hard-packed snow and black ice is no joy ride at the best of times, but the Riv's new snow tires took the speed like a champ. The Chevy didn't have much of a head start on us, and we pulled up close behind them, but how in the hell were we going to force them to pull over? A high-speed chase under those conditions was insane, but there we were, doing ninety the wrong way down a one-way street in one of Chicago's prime residential neighborhoods in the middle of the night. The Chevy took the corner hard at Batchelder Street, shaving the paint off of a parked Saab, then went down High towards the water. The windows were too dark to see what was going on inside, so you can imagine my surprise when the Chevy suddenly pulled over to the side of the road, smooth as you please. I pulled the Riv over and threw open the door, then crouched behind it, gun drawn.

"Right! Outa the car nice 'n easy, you wanna live to see tomorrow!" I bellowed, and the two doors on the driver's side cracked open in unison. I was doubly surprised to see a thug carefully decanting himself from behind the wheel, and a livid-looking Margaret Thatcher, gun pointed in the general direction of the scumbag's head, sliding out from the back seat. The thug assumed the position like he was born to it, without being told. "Guess you probably done this before; huh, buddy?" I patted him down and put the cuffs on him after relieving him of some hardware.

Fraser was checking on the goon in the front passenger seat. "He's out cold, Ray. At a guess, I'd say he was somewhat... concussed."

"There's no mistaking that noxious car you drive, Detective," Thatcher said. "When I saw it was you following us, I demanded the driver pull over. When he ignored me, I insisted. That's when he," and she tilted her chin in the direction of the car's napping passenger, "pulled a gun on me. I relieved him of it, and repeated my request that the driver pull over, this time with the threat of reprisal if he didn't comply."

"So you just pulled over, huh?" I asked the cuffed thug. "What did you think she was gonna do, put a bullet in your head when the car's goin' ninety miles an hour?"

The thug was white as a sheet. "It wasn't my head she was pointin' the gun at, at the time," he said. Ah, yes. I guess there are some things a man just doesn't want to take chances with.

"Resourceful," Fraser said. He held up a perfect counterfeit of a cop I.D. that he'd found in the breast pocket of the sleeping thug. "I assume they mis-represented themselves to gain your initial compliance?"

"They said they were with the Chicago police department, and that they'd come to get me because... because you'd...," to my surprise, as God is my witness, Thatcher, Dragon Lady Supreme, actually choked on her words here, "...and I remembered the odd way you acted when you left my apartment, how distraught you were. They said you'd taken Detective Vecchio's gun and... and.... They were taking me to the morgue to identify your body."

Victoria's main talent, I think, is the art of knowing exactly how to push someone's buttons.

Without a word, Fraser came around the car and very gently took her into his arms. She didn't cry, just stood there, face pressed against his chest, left arm looped around his back, right arm pointed at the ground, the gun she took off of Vickie's goon still held loosely in her grip.

"Hey, Benny," I said, "is now a good time to tell her we trashed her front door?"


I was at my desk, finishing up the report on the attempted kidnapping, and misspelling every other word due to getting about three hours sleep last night. Fraser had somehow found a moment to shave in the changing room, and had taken Thatcher to breakfast and then home after she'd filed charges. I would not have forgiven him that breakfast if he hadn't shown up with a hot meatball sandwich and a large coffee for me - the breakfast of the gods. He looked a world better than he had when he'd knocked at my door in the middle of the night with his ghost story. I rubbed some grit out of my eyes. "You know, Victoria is a cop's nightmare - a crook who's aces at planning things in advance, with clever back up contingency plans; plus she knows how to take advantage of last-minute opportunities and think fast on her feet when things go wrong. She's Moriarity in a dress, except - she screws up over you, every time. With you out of the picture, Benny, this chick could take over the world. Did you ever think of that?"

"No, Ray, I hadn't. I wish I could speak to her."

"I have a feeling Victoria won't be able to resist giving you the chance now," I said.

"I still find it hard to believe. I only saw her face for the barest moment. I thought my heart would stop in my chest."

"She's got to know the Feds are closing in. Why else the phony funeral? Now that she's been found out, I can't believe she'll tap-dance her way out of this one. She might think she can, though. That'll get her killed."

"The only person who has the remotest chance of getting her to give herself up is me, Ray."

"Remote is right. You know too much, she'll kill you."

"No, she won't. And I don't want to play decoy, Ray. I just want to speak to her. I'll arrange it with Ms. Sachet. She gave me her address."

"You're an idiot! Without backup, there's no way to protect you."

"I want to clear this whole thing up," Fraser said, "but no wires, no undercover. I'll talk to her. That's all."

It had dawned a cold, clear day, not a cloud in the sky, and a sharp breeze made his eyes water a bit as he approached the street of turn-of-the-century mansions Sachet lived on. He didn't call her, gave her no warning of his visit. There was nothing to fear, but all the same, in this huge, empty street, where all you could hear was the wind whistling in your ears and your own official Mountie boots creaking with cold, it was hard for him not to get paranoid and start looking around for a sniper.

He had no trouble finding Sachet's house, and when he rang the bell the door was opened quickly, as though Sachet was expecting a visitor, by Sachet herself.

"Oh!" Sachet said, "Heavens! It's you, Ben," and she made a move with her hand to her head that stopped before it got there. Fraser had been wondering what it was that was different about her, and now he knew. She wasn't wearing her wig. Her dark brown hair was rather short, cut close to her head - a perfectly nice head of hair, and he wondered why she bothered with the wig at all. She said, "It would have been better had you telephoned you were coming over, Ben. You almost missed me; I have to go out now."

"May I come in for a moment?"

"Sure, sugar. C'mon in."

In the hall on a table was what looked like a large, round hat box with the words "Suisse Natural Hair Replacements - weaving, repair, cleaning" printed on it, and a pink receipt stuck to it. His sharp eyes caught that the box contained one curly brunette wig that had been cleaned and returned with some slight but necessary re-weaving done to it, according to the receipt. It suddenly occurred to Fraser how useful a curly brunette wig might have been on the day of the accident. He looked up and saw in the hall mirror a look of hatred and fear on the face of Sachet as she caught him noticing the box, but when he turned, it had been replaced by a flirtatious smile. "A girl has her beauty secrets," she said.

"Never mind," he said, all business. "I am here to see Victoria."

"Victoria?"

"I need to speak with her."

"Darlin', have you gone mad?"

"I am in a hurry, ma'am, so let us assume that I have. If you should see Victoria - or her ghost - please let her know that I want to talk to her. A ghost shouldn't be afraid of a man - surely it's the other way around? I will be waiting on top of the Sears tower for the next three hours - if you can get in touch with the dead. I will be alone. I would appreciate it if she would extend to me that same kindness?" He added, "Remember, I was Victoria's secret love."

Sachet said nothing, but somewhere, in a room off the hall, someone cleared her throat. Fraser threw open a door; he half expected to see the dead rise yet again, but it was only little Dr. Kartnerstrasse who rose from a kitchen chair.

"Dr. Kartnerstrasse," Fraser said. Dr. Kartnerstrasse in her tidy gray business suit looked oddly out of place in the feminine-looking kitchen, with its frilly yellow curtains and matching table-cloth, and pink striped wallpaper. The remains of lunch littered the kitchen table.

Fraser said to Sachet, "Please tell the doctor about my madness. She might be able to make a diagnosis. And remember the place - the top of the Sears tower. Or do ghosts only rise at night?" He left the house.

For hours he waited, walking up and down to keep warm, on the observation deck of the World's Tallest Building. Despite the cold, there were people, sightseers and tourists, who milled around, getting an eyeful of the best city on the face of the planet, until they were driven back inside to the warmth of the souvenir counter and the bank of elevators. Fraser wondered who would come for him. Was there enough love left in Victoria for her to come alone, or would she send more of her hired goons? It was obvious from the attempted kidnapping of Margaret Thatcher that he still had a certain pull on Victoria. As the hours passed, he began to wonder, "Am I really mad? Is this whole thing an invention of my mind? Are they digging up Victoria's body now in Central City Cemetery?"

Suddenly, oddly, as it sometimes does at the tops of the world's tallest skyscrapers, it began to snow... upwards. It was a freak weather condition - it wasn't snowing at all over the rest of Chicago - just at the top of the tower. The tourists oohed and aahed their delight. Fraser shivered and waited. Was it fear or excitement that made his heart beat faster - or just memory, because life had always somehow gotten realer, more vivid, when Victoria showed up, just as she showed up now.

"Ben."

"Hello, Victoria."

Don't picture Victoria as some sort of sexy-looking criminal bimbo. Don't think of her as a beauty queen, or a delicate flower, or made up like a femme fatale to twist men's minds and make them do her bidding. Fraser has a picture of Victoria that he doesn't know I know he has. It's not a bad shot of her; a candid shot someone, I don't know who, took of her when she wasn't looking. She's actually a nice-looking woman; lots of long, curly brown hair floating around her head, pale skin, kind of tall and bony for my taste; but still, an attractive woman, with cheekbones and dark eyes. She's standing outside in front of a brick wall, looking off to the side with a smile on her face, a real smile, you can see it in her eyes - maybe she's looking at Benny; like I said, I don't know when the picture was taken. An attractive, but still somehow ordinary-looking woman.

She didn't make the mistake of trying to kiss him, probably didn't want to chance he might pull away, but she put a hand on his arm and said, "How are things?"

"We have to talk, Victoria."

"You didn't say how you like my new look, Ben." She reached up and smoothed a blonde curl over her ear, and the snow swirled around her head. As Fraser had noted the night before, her mass of brown hair had been cut off, and what was left had been bleached an ash-blonde color. "I tried straightening it, but it just keeps curling up again."

"You still look like Victoria to me."

"I'm not sure how to take that," she laughed.

Fraser looked away from her, scanning the Chicago skyline that stood out clear in the cold winter sunshine. "I was at your burial."

"That was pretty clever of me, don't you think?"

"Not so clever of you to stage it in Chicago - anywhere else, and I'd never have found out about it until it was too late to do any investigating."

"I suppose part of me wanted you to know. I wanted my death to hurt you. I wanted to see how much you still loved me."

"Were you going to cut me in on the spoils of your business ventures?"

"My offer is still open, if that's what you mean." She smiled at Fraser, who could remember her smiling just that way the time she'd sent him off to deal with diamond thieves who then tried to kill him; sure of herself, sure of what he'd do for her.

Fraser said, "Have you ever visited the children's hospital? Have you seen any of your victims?"

"My victims? Don't be so melodramatic - you're as bad as Lilly. It's not like Anna and I sat there and measured out the drugs into the vials ourselves. We hired a local crew in Rumania to handle the hands-on part of the business - you know the expression, 'it's so hard to find good help nowadays'? Those idiots. If it weren't for their greediness, the authorities would never have decided to make an example of us. Oh, now - don't look at me that way! Of course, it's terrible what happened to those poor children. But it really wasn't my fault." Victoria fished around in her pocket for a quarter, found one, dropped it into one of those pay-view binoculars they have on the observation deck, and took a look at the toy landscape below. "Oh look, Ben! The people look just like ants down there! Ben, if I were to give you a box with a button on the top, and tell you that every time you pressed that button, an ant would stop moving, but you'd get a million dollars, how many times would you press it? Would you really tell me to keep my money? Without hesitation? Or would you calculate just how many ants the world could afford to spare?" She turned from the eye-piece and smiled conspiratorially at him. "Tax-free, Ben."

"You're finished now. The authorities know about you."

"They won't catch me, Ben. You'll see."

"They're exhuming your grave even as we speak. Who will they find?"

"Nadia Dumansky," Victoria replied simply. She put her hand up as if to catch the snow, saying, "Look at the sky!"

"Why did you try to kidnap Inspector Thatcher?"

That brought a frown. "I suppose I could say it was just for old time's sake, but I must be honest, Ben. I resent even the suggestion that I'm so easy to replace in your affections."

"What would you have done to her?"

The smile was back, almost flirting. "Well, we'll never know for sure now, will we? Until the next time, of course."

Like I said, Victoria is good at pushing buttons. Fraser was suddenly as angry as he'd ever been in his life, as angry as the time Gerrard handed him a bankbook and told him his father was dirty. "I'd like to pick you up and throw you off this building," he said.

"But you won't, darling. I trust you, Ben. Anna tried to persuade me not to come, but I know you. Then she tried to persuade me to, well, arrange a little accident for you. She told me it would be easy in a crowd like this, just take a second, and her man would be back on the elevator before anyone even realized you were dead."

"I could take you in right now."

"If you touch me, I'll scream. They'd grab you, not the frightened woman you attacked. And I'm gone in the confusion." Fraser didn't answer this, but he didn't move, either. The crowd shuffled around them, oblivious, enjoying the snow flurry. He knew that if Victoria screamed, they would come to her aid. They didn't know they were doomed to be victims, if not Victoria's, then someone else's. She sighed and put her hand on his arm. "Darling. What fools we are, talking this way. I'm leaving Chicago. Come with me. We would be so good together. You know we would."

"What about Ms. Sachet and Dr. Kartnerstrasse."

"Don't worry about them. They're nothing." She had a thought. "How's Ray doing? And his family? I never thanked them for putting me up in their home."

"Keep away from them, Victoria."

"Give Ray my regards, Ben. If you change your mind, you can reach me through Anna, but don't leave it too long." She moved away from him towards the elevators, waving gaily until she disappeared into the crowd. Fraser suddenly called after her, "Don't trust me, Victoria," but it was too late, she was gone.


I met Fraser in the Riv a few blocks from the Sears tower. He gave me the scoop on what had just happened. "If we're gonna pick up Victoria, we have to act fast," I said to him. "The C.I.A. is hot to put the moves on Sachet and Kartnerstrasse, and if they pick them up, we've lost our link to Victoria." Fraser looked like he was on another planet, so I poked him in the arm. "Earth to Mountie; come in, Mountie. What's with you, Benny?" Like I didn't know.

"What? What do you want me to do?"

This was not good. I knew I had to get him in the program, but set it up so a last-minute hesitation on his part wouldn't sink us. See, I trust Fraser totally on everything - except for Victoria. I didn't want to put him and us in a position where a decision on his part would be the difference between success or failure - or get someone killed. "The body in the coffin isn't Victoria's - we'll put in a formal request to the C.I.A. to arrest her, that'll keep the paperwork straight. But there isn't a hope in hell they can track her down - only you can bring her out into the open, Benny. Think you can do it?"

"Be your decoy? I think I can handle that."

"What do you mean 'your decoy'? - Benny, you have to be a part of this, not just used by us; you have to take some ownership for this one. It can't be just me."

He nodded tiredly. "Ray, you've forgotten Carol Jones - we can't prove she's a part of the drug racket, but she did give false testimony about Victoria's death. She might even be liable as an accessory after the fact in Nadia Dumansky's murder."

"Oh, she's in this up to her sanctimonious eyeballs; you bet."

"I have an idea as to how to do this in such a way that it seems real enough to draw Victoria out, as well as put her off her guard."

"I'm all ears."

"I cannot go to Ms. Sachet - I suspect that any message I might give her would not be relayed to Victoria, but might result in my own death at the hands of her operatives instead. But Ms. Jones - I can go to her with a story that I must get in touch with Victoria, warn her that the C.I.A. is closing in on both her and her cohorts. I will tell her that I can't go to Anna Sachet or Dr. Kartnerstrasse, they're under C.I.A. surveillance and I'm wanted by the police for conspiracy to commit first-degree murder, with regards to Mr. Koch. This necessitates my leaving the city with Victoria. Does that sound authentic to you?"

"It has that ring of truth. I've actually had my eye out for a warrant for your arrest since yesterday; knock on wood nobody in Homicide gets cute on us."

"I can arrange to meet Victoria at some place...," he seemed at a loss for words here, as if his plan had brought him along this far, and no further.

"We'll find a place. We'll get our people in there long before she gets there; it'll work Benny. We'll pick her up, and nobody gets hurt. You don't have to be there, Benny; we can pick her up without you being there."

He shook his head. "That won't work and you know it, Ray. It's just that - I told Victoria not to trust me, but she didn't hear me. I wish she'd heard me. This wouldn't be quite the betrayal it is if she had."

"Can you do this, Benny? Are you sure?"

I had tossed the report from my friend in the C.I.A. onto the front seat and forgotten about it - I didn't mean to leave it there for Fraser to find, but as Freudian slips go, it wasn't a bad idea to bring home the facts to him one last time. He picked up the folder and weighed it in his hand.

"Yes," he said. "I'm sure."


The arrangements went like clock-work. The Feds jumped at a chance to get at Victoria, and agreed to hold off hauling in Kartnerstrasse and Sachet until Fraser had a chance to talk to Jones. I think Jones shocked Fraser. She greeted him without embarrassment - she was practically condescending. "How nice to see you, Constable Fraser. I'm pleased you were able to work out your little problem with Chicago Homicide."

"I wasn't," Fraser said.

"I hope you don't bear me any ill-will, about my letting them know you'd been to see that poor Mr. Koch. I figured that if you were innocent, you'd clear yourself right away, and if you were guilty, well, the fact that I liked you shouldn't stand in the way of justice. A citizen has her duty."

"Like giving false evidence at an inquest?"

Jones said, "Oh, dear, I'm afraid you are mad at me, aren't you. Look at it this way, young man, any citizen of a country, owing allegiance to - "

"The police dug up the body. They'll be after Dr. Kartnerstrasse and Ms. Sachet and possibly after you as well. I want you to warn Victoria."

"I don't understand...."

"Yes, you do." Fraser laid his trap and got out of there quick. He couldn't stand looking at that phony humanitarian face any longer than he had to.

And now all we had to do was bait the trap and haul in our prey. We had gone over maps of the Chicago sewer system and had to put the kibosh on several likely meeting spots for one reason or another, when Fraser had a brainstorm. The restaurant he'd met Anna Sachet at a day ago - The Old Vienna. Victoria had to know about that meeting, so if Fraser suggested she meet him there, it would sound more like it was his last-minute inspiration instead of some kind of set-up. There was a manhole that linked to the main line literally around the corner of the place, so she'd think she could get in and out right under our noses even if he was being tailed. She'd take the chance, I knew she would. All she had to do was come up through the ground, walk twenty yards to the restaurant, grab Fraser, and sink back into the sewer like the rat that she was. We'd get her before she went underground again, that would be the easiest. Also less dangerous to Fraser.

So Fraser sat in the big bay window of The Old Vienna, drinking cup after cup of coffee for hours. We had operatives as customers, as waiters, the girl who sat people at their tables was ours. They were the lucky ones - those of us who were known by Victoria were stuck outside, and it was cold as a bitch out there. Me and Jack Huey were well out of the way around the block, holed up in the Riv; Welsh was in the C.I.A.'s communications vehicle - a big moving van full of more computer hardware than Bill Gates' playroom. We couldn't see what was going on, but we had a wire on Fraser and could talk to him, keep his spirits up. He wasn't talking back, if she saw him talking to his lapel, she'd know something fishy was going down. Which is why I nearly passed out when I heard:

"Excuse me, sir? Which way is it to the men's room?"

"Fraser!!! What are you doin'?"

I knew he'd walked away from the bay window by then, because he took the chance to say, "I don't wish to be indelicate, Ray, but I have had six cups of coffee over the course of two and one-half hours. What do you think I am doing?"

Well, I couldn't argue with him there. "Just get back to your seat as quick as you can!"

Fraser's voice said suddenly, "My God, Ray! She's here!" and then the wire went crazy; snap, crackle, pop. I yelled to Welsh over the radio, "Give the signal to guard all the manholes!" and I heard him telling the troops, "We're going down." We jumped out of the Riv and took off for the restaurant, Jack going one way, me the other.

This is what happened: Fraser went down the stairs to find the restroom; there's a hallway down there with the men's room on one side and the ladies on the other. At the end of the hall is the building's furnace room, the door with an "Employees Only" sign on it over one of those little glass windows with chicken-wire running through it. Slick Vickie'd slipped through the delivery bay in back and come through the furnace room, and had got there just in time to look through the little window to see Fraser telling me off. Talk about your lousy timing. When he caught sight of her turning away from the window, he yelled she was there and took off after her. All of the pipes in the furnace room was why the wire went nuts - the metal interfered with sound transmission.

Fraser jumped down from the building's loading dock and met Jack Huey. If he'd pointed her out then it would have been an easy shot, but to Fraser it wasn't Metcalfe, international drug runner, escaping down the street, it was Victoria. He hesitated just long enough for Vickie to turn the corner; then he yelled out, "There she goes," but Vickie had already shot our guy by the manhole and escaped down it. After making sure the agent wasn't hurt too badly - he had a bullet-proof vest on, thank God - Jack and Fraser followed her down the hole, like Alice after the White Rabbit.

Since I met Fraser almost two years ago, he's dragged me down below the streets of this city more times than I would care to mention - it's a strange world down there. You don't realize it, but we live over a dark domain of rushing rivers and empty, echoing concrete-and-brick caverns; it's like a science fiction movie or something, but with a bad smell. I was with Welsh over in the main sewer - it's enormous, with waterfalls crashing so loud, you can't hear yourself think. Fraser and Jack went down the metal ladder to find themselves in a little side-canal, it was quiet and the water was shallow, with all kinds of disgusting scum floating gently on the surface - though they could hear the rushing waters of the main channel in the distance. Jack shone his flashlight along the edge of the water and Fraser saw which way Vickie had gone; she'd left a clear trail through the surface scum of old orange peels, cigarette stubs, used condoms, and God knows what else; it was as unmistakable as if she'd left footprints in the mud. Jack pulled his gun at this point, he had the flashlight in one hand and the gun in the other. "Get behind me, man," he said to Fraser.

"Why?"

At that instant, Jack must have experienced one of those dealing-with-Fraser moments that make me so grouchy. "Because you don't have a gun, man!" he said, sounding exasperated. He kept the light on the scum-trail, and they inched along, keeping to the shallow edge, up to their knees in filthy, cold water. He went on, "What is it with this bitch? She hasn't got a chance in hell. The manholes are all guarded and the streets are cordoned off. All we have to do is make a sweep through the side-passages from the manholes." He handed off the flashlight to Fraser for a second and took his walkie-talkie from his breast pocket, listening in at a pre-arranged frequency to the search party for a moment, then stuck it back in his pocket. Taking his flashlight from Fraser, Jack said, "Man, oh, man - it's like an army is down here now. The cops, the Feds - " At that moment, the shot came. The flashlight flew out of Jack's hand and fell into the water. "Son of a goddamn bitch!" he yelped.

"My God, are you hurt?"

"Nah, she must have shot at the light, the bullet just nicked my hand. Here, Fraser - take this other flashlight, I'm gonna wrap up my hand. No, don't shine it. She's right up ahead of us." Fraser took the light and Jack used his walkie-talkie to let everyone know where Victoria was. The noise of the shot still reverberated throughout the entire sewer system, so I think everyone already had an idea that something had happened.

"I'm going up there to talk to her," Fraser said.

"You crazy, man? Vecchio will kill me you get blown away! Fraser, get back here, dammit!"

Fraser didn't listen. He waded along towards where Victoria was hidden, towards the rushing waters of the main channel, Jack cursing softly close behind him. Fraser called out, "Victoria!" and the name echoed down the tunnel, "Victoria, Victoria, Victoria!" Nothing. He called again, "Victoria! Come on out! It's no use!"

A voice alarmingly close made them hug the wall. "Is that you, Ben?" it called. "What do you want me to do?"

"Come on out with your hands up!"

"I don't have a flashlight, Ben. I can't see a thing."

"Don't trust her, Fraser," Jack said.

"Go back, Detective Huey. She won't shoot at me," Fraser said. "Victoria, I'm going to shine the light. Give yourself up, it's the only way." He turned the light on, and twenty feet away, at the edge of the light and the water, Victoria stepped into view. "Put your hands up, Victoria." Victoria raised her hand and fired. The shot ricocheted against the wall a foot from Fraser's head, and he heard Jack cry out. At that same moment, a huge searchlight was turned on, illuminating the whole cavern, catching Victoria in its beam, bright enough for Fraser to see the staring eyes of Jack Huey slumped at the water's edge. Our little army had arrived on the scene, finally.

Fraser dropped to his side, but it was no use, Jack was dead. "Don't shoot!" I yelled to the Feds around me over the noise of the water, "you'll hit Fraser!" Victoria was blinded by the light; she pressed herself up against the wall, her hand in front of her eyes, trying to suss out what to do next. Her only choices were to go towards us, or back through Fraser's tunnel. So naturally, she found herself a third choice - she took a flying leap into the deep central rushing stream. When the Feds turned their lights on her, she was submerged, and the current of the sewer carried her rapidly on, past Jack's body, out of the searchlight into the dark. What makes someone, without hope, do anything she can to cling for just a few more seconds to freedom?

Fraser stood at the edge of the searchlight beam, staring downstream. He had Jack's gun in his hand now, and he was the only one who could fire with safety. I thought I saw a movement and called out to him, "There! Shoot! Shoot, dammit!" He lifted Jack's gun and fired. A cry of pain came back up the tunnel; a cry of blame, a call for help. "You got her!" I yelled out, wading up to where Fraser stood over Jack's body. "We got her, Huey," I whispered to Jack, closing his staring eyes.

When I looked up, Fraser was out of sight in the darkness. I screamed his name and got nothing but my own voice back at me, echoing over and over, until his name was lost in the rush and roar of the underground river. That's when I heard a third shot.

Fraser told me later, "I walked downstream to find her. I didn't use the light, I was afraid she's shoot at the beam. She must have been struck by my bullet just at the entrance of a side passage - she had crawled up the passage to the foot of an iron ladder. Only a few yards above her head was an open manhole, and freedom, but she hadn't the strength to make the climb, and even if she had, there were Federal agents waiting for her above. She must have known that, but something in her made her try, doomed to failure though she was. She was just making the attempt, crawling up out of the dark towards the light, when I came into view down the tunnel. She lifted her gun at me and smiled - Ray! she smiled! - and I shot her dead with Detective Huey's gun. And now I'm left wondering if she would have killed me, or if it was her way of getting me to kill her."

"Forget about it, Benny," I said.

Benny said, "I never shall."


A thaw came to Chicago that night, melting the glacier the town had been in the grip of for over two months. Burials were a lot easier after that than they had been a week earlier when electric drills had been needed to break open the frozen ground. It was almost like a spring day when Victoria Metcalfe had her second funeral. I was glad she was being put under the earth for good this time, but knew that it had taken another two men's deaths to do it. This time, the group by the grave was increased by fifty percent: me, Fraser, and Margaret Thatcher. This time there weren't any tears.

After the coffin had been lowered, Thatcher wandered away from the grave site for a moment, making like she was interested in reading epitaphs, but really giving me and Benny a second alone. He reached down and picked up a handful of dirt, and dropped it on the coffin. Then he stood there, gazing down into the grave, that stupid little muscle in his cheek twitching.

"Benny, for Christ's sake, snap out of it! You survived; you're alive, your Mountie honor intact! It was her sick game, but you won it!"

"I haven't won," he said. "I've lost."

There was no arguing with him, so I just shrugged. "The Riv's parked up the road. Want a lift?"

"No," he said, "I'll take Margaret's car back." I watched him striding off after Thatcher. He caught up to her and they walked side by side. I don't think he said a word to her; but before they turned up the road out of my sight, her hand was through his arm. Jeez, I wonder where that's going, and do I really want to hear about it. He's a moron, a Pollyanna who insists on thinking the best of people, that anyone can be redeemed - okay, so ninety-nine percent of the time he's right, but look out for that one-percent when he's not.

Oh, and Wiener? Wiener is still arguing with Boxbush Books about Fraser's expenses. They say they won't pay up for his book tour since they figure they're already paying his hospital expenses in Canada. Poor Wiener. Poor all of us, if you know what I mean.

Fin.