Burning Down the House
By Taleya

Yeah, hi.

Uh, my name's Stanley Raymond Kowalski, or Raimond Vecchio, depending on who you talk to.  Either way, I'm a Detective.  First Grade.

I bet you're confused, right?  Yeah, well you're not the only one.

I still don't know what I'm doing exactly - but I'm betting that you want to know how I got from being a street cop to undercover work with a Mountie and his lip-reading deaf wolf.

Yeah, well it's a long story.
 
It take approximately an hour to tell. 

So lean back, relax, and listen.....
 
  

So anyway, it all starts back in '97.  I'm doing your average police work - you know, crack a case here, catch a bad guy there - when suddenly the boss asks out of the blue if I wanna do undercover.

He yaks on for a bit about some cop over at the 27th going undercover with the mob, and his precinct needing a replacement to cover him.

So I nod, and look interested, and all the time I'm thinking Yeah, this could be  just what I need to get out of my rut, ya know, get back to doing real police work.  So when the boss pops the big one, I say 'Yeah', and jump in with both feet.

So I start learning how to become another guy.

I start with previous cases, training history, etc, and then I go down to the precinct and start doing some cases with the guy - apparently his partner's a Mountie on holiday in the Yukon.

Yeah, yeah, bullshit, I say, then I start reading the cases in more detail and I find out that he ain't yankin' me - the Mountie is for real.

Eventually, he goes off, and I’m left filling his place.

Then the Mountie walks in.  I mean, he is so hard to miss in that bright red monkey suit.  He’s looking around for Vecchio, and I’m thinking that Welsh (my CO) has talked to him, and he’s clear.  So I go up and give a hug.

He gives me this funny look, so I start talking – you know, I’m nervous, and I can’t stop my mouth from going.

So I start crapping on about duets, and I just keep seeing this Mountie's face getting blanker and blanker, and I start thinking that maybe Welsh didn't get to him after all.

Anyway, I finally start to wind down, and he looks me straight in the eyes and says 'Who are you?'

Ok, I think, then we've gotta play it from scratch - at least until Welsh sorts it all out.  'Quit kidding around Fraser, you know who I am.'

'I assure you, I am not 'kidding around''

Elaine walks up then, with those files from the Docklynnes, she hands them over and calls me Ray, and I just see this Mountie's eyes get so big I swear they're gonna fall outta his head - you know what I'm saying?

So he sorta sits there for a few seconds, then decides to make a move.  'I'm sorry' he says 'but I rarely forget a face and I am very confident that you and I have never met.'  Then he starts introducing himself, and ends with '...the person I am currently looking for. One Raimond Vecchio.  Detective First Grade. Chicago Police Department.'

I'm just about ready to punch this guy.  Ok, Ok, it's a bit of a mindfuck to come back from holidays and find a total stranger playing the part of your best friend, but how thick can he be? You'd think he'd've figured out by now there was some pretty big shit going down and play along, but no, he has to do this big Investigative Mountie act.

So I flash my ID.  'Raimond Vecchio.  Detective First Grade.  Chicago Police.'  I point out the words for effect.  'Everyone here knows who I am Fraser - how 'bout you?'

He's saved from answering by the phone.  I grab it, give him a wink and say 'Ray Vecchio.'  The guy on the other end sounds like serious psycho material and he wants to speak to the Mountie.

So I shrug, and hand over the phone - from what I've heard, the Mountie's friends with half the wastes in the city anyway.

So he sits there, and he yaks for a bit to the guy, and I start fidgeting with papers & files & stuff, and I'm wondering if I should go ask Welsh about this big ignorance act when I see the look on Fraser's face.  Something big's going down.  I sit up and start trying to listen in on the Mountie's side of the conversation.

Sudenly he puts down the phone and grabs his hat and says 'I have no idea who you are.  But if you insist on maintaining this charade of being Ray Vecchio, it may be of interest for you to know that I have reason to believe that your house is about to burn down.'

I can't help but grin at him, man, you must love to use big words....then what he's saying hits me.

Shit.

I run out to the parking lot and we all pile into my car - him, me and his deaf wolf Diefenbaker.  Fraser makes some crack about the Riviera, but at the moment, I don't care.

All I can think is Shit.  Vecchio's family is still in that house.

So we start going through the streets to Vecchios, and the Mountie's really starting to get on my tits, you know?  First he's ragging me about taking a different route, then the next thing I know his wolf starts slobbering in my ear. 'God, stop it.'

Fraser gives me this confused look 'Stop what?'

'What he's doing to me, the thing he's doing to me.'

'Could be a sign of affection.  Or a prelude to lunch.'

'He's doing disgusting things to my ear.  Get him off me.'

The Mountie doesn't do jack, so I threaten to crash the car.

'He does read lips, so enunciate clearly.'

I have no idea what the hell he means by 'enunciate', but I give it a shot. 'GET OFF ME EXCLAMATION MARK!!!'

I guess the wolf got the message, 'cos he gets off my shoulder and starts slobbering on the back of the upholstery instead.

Anyway, we make it to Vecchio's place, and there's all this smoke and stuff pouring out the windows.  I grab the radio and start calling for firetrucks, while the Mountie springs outta the car.

'Are you nuts?' I ask

'There may be people trapped inside' he says.

'I'm not going in there' I yell.  'I don't risk my neck for anyone.'

'Ray Vecchio would' and then he's at the door, smashing the glass to get at the locks.

I'm just sitting in my car for a few seconds, feeling like a total bastard, you know? This guy's a for real hero, and I just sit here in my car while he gets a roasting.

After a coupla seconds, I kinda hear this scream from the back of the house.  so I jump outta the car, and I see Vecchio's sister Frannie hanging from a little outhouse roof or something.  So I go up and grab her, but I can't get her to let go of the gutter.  It's pretty much a foregone anyway, 'cos a couple of seconds later her brother Tony comes barreling out and knocks us both flying.

Next thing I know, I'm lying on the ground, under a screaming Frannie and this two ton italian gorilla.

Anyway, I check they're alright, then I wait for Fraser to come out.

But he doesn't.

So I go round the front, and I'm just trying to figure out if I should go in or not when the firies show up.  One of them racks out one of those bullhorn things, and Fraser yells back that he's bringing out the last of the house's inhabitants.

I go to the front to give him a hand - I'm figuing that it's Vecchio's ma, and she aint exactly a small person if you get what I'm saying - but he waltzes out with a couple of fish in a fishtank. Seriously unhinged.

So anyway, I clear up some point with the firies, and when I catch up to him again, I see that Frannie's already trying to get her claws into him.

So I give her the three second brush off and try to figure out what's happening.  They've got no idea - of course.  Fraser quizzes Frannie about who I am, but he gets the same answer - Vecchio's whole family is in on the deal.

Anyway, he walks off with this kinda pissed look on his face, and I'm thinking that I gotta talk to Welsh before the whole thing gets outta hand.  I do a final check on Tony and Francesca, then go Mountie hunting.

I find him out near the front, looking at the circuit box real closely, and I swear that he was about to lick the damn thing.

'Hey' I yell. ' I don't know where you come from, but where I come from is this little place called America where we got this big thing called electricity.  Word of advice - your tongue and electricity? Not a good mix.'

He gives me this stunned look, and I go back to the car.  I open the door and get in, and when I look up, I see Frannie's pidgenholed him again, so I lay on the horn real loud.  'C'mon.  Before I die of waiting'

So he comes over and opens the door, and the wolf gets in, and then he gets in, and then we head back to the precinct to fill out the incident reports.

During the car trip, he's pulling the annoying Mountie act again, and he pulls out this metal thing and he holds it up against my nose, measuring it.  I don't know what the hell he's doing, and he says it ain't important.  Must be some weird Canadian thing.

Anyway, he says we should start going through old cases to see who wants him and Vecchio dead, and he adds that I can't do that 'cos I aint the real Vecchio.

So I'm really getting pissed and I start spewing out old cases and he keeps shooting them down.  The Bolt brothers, Geiger, Morgan, Bodine, I swear, the Mountie and this cop Vecchio must come up against more badguys than your average superhero.

Anyway, the name Bodine reminds him of the guys perfume, which he reckons he smelt when his apartment block burnt down.

'Whoa,' I say, 'You're telling me that your apartment building was burnt down as well?'  I'm starting to see a pattern.

'It's not important' he says.

Not important.  Yeah, right.  But then he starts going on about the perfume he smelt, and he hands me a plastic baggie with the remains of a perfume bottle in it.

'Oh great' I say.  'So all we gotta do is go around Chicago sticking our noses into people's pits to find someone with the same smell.'

I get kinda backtracked by Elaine then.  I ask if she's thought about that date I asked her on Friday.  She says no.  Hey, I figure that this cop Vecchio's Italian, he must have been hitting on every woman in Chicago.  But when I look back, I see Fraser's got that look on his face again.  Ok, no more dates.

Suddenly all this talk about perfume sparks in my mind this case I read when I first took the job.  Something about perfume...

'Wait a minute.  The perfume is the starter, the trigger, what the hell is the name of that stuff that gets the fire going?'

'Accelerant?'

'Accelerant.'  My mind is racing.  'Don't say anything.'  The case is starting to come back to me.  'Two years ago we nailed a painter named...Zoltan Motherwell.'  Yeah, I'm thinking, this sounds like the same MO

I can see the Mountie's eyes light up - he knows where I'm going.

'And in each case the accelerant was...'

'PERFUME!'

'Give me five detective' he says, and when I get my hand back it's covered in all this ink crap.

'Fraser, you got ink all over my fingers.' I say.

So he apologises and wipes it off with paper while I fish around with my other hand for the Motherwell File.  I ask him what was all that about, and he says 'Just a little thing we do'

'We have a lot of fun you and I' I say, and the whole time I'm wondering what the hell kind of relationship Vecchio had with this guy.

I flick through the file and I see that Zoltan's still in a mental institute.  So I get a hunch and we go over and check it out.

On the way there I start getting nervous.  I mean, this guy Zoltan's nuts, right?  So no-one's gonna take him seriously if he says I ain't Vecchio.  But the Mountie's already pretty suspicious, so I decide to play it in the background and let Fraser do all the talking.  If my cover gets blown, I get sent back to my old hob.  But Vecchio could end up dead.

When we get to the institute, Mr Ultra Polite Mountie makes me wait while half the state of Illinois walks in and out the doors.  I check in my gun, sign for it then I grab the files I ordered (phone & visitor records) and we go see Zoltan.

So I finally get to see the Mountie in action, and I can see from the outset that the interview aint going too good.  Fraser's being too damn polite and Canadian, and Zoltan just keeps winding him round and I can see this guy could keep Fraser here for hours while his accomplice lights up the greater Chicago area.  So I decide to shake his peaches.

'My friend, he's Canadian,' I say.  'He's polite.  He'll let you ramble on with all this namby pamby art crap.  But me?'  And I lean in real close and light a Zippo.  'I don't know art.  But I know what I like.'  I toss the lighter into his lap, and he sits there and stares at it like it's some kind of a goddess, and I think yeah, this guy is a fucking serious firebug.  'And you dirtball,' I finish, 'I don't like.'

He looks at me properly then, with this confused look in his eyes.  'Who are you?' he asks.

And that's it.  I have heard that question too many fucking times for it to be funny anymore.

'Shut your trap.'  God it felt good to let all that anger go  'You look into my eyes, you look deep into my eyes.  What d'you see? D'you see the guy, ' He was staring to twitch a little 'd'you see the guy, the guy that put you in here?  RIGHT?'

I was screaming by that time, but I didn't care. I'd had my fill of female brushoffs, doubting Mounties and psychotic firebugs for the day.

Zoltan gave me this frightened half nod, and I drilled him about the copycat.  He tried acting coy, like he didn't know, so I showed him the phone file.  Three phone calls.  One to 555-0188.  Chicago PD.  My district.  My department.  My phone.  The call warning me about Vecchio's.

'Possibly' he says, so I crack out the visitor log.  One visitor.  Girlfriend.  But he aint talking about her.  So I crack it.

'Gentlemen' I yell, than I start taking off my coat and gear, tossing it to the shellshocked Mountie in the corner. '5, 4,' and all the time he's trying to figure out whether or not I'm actually gonna hit him.  '3, 2,' I get to one and the wind up before he finally cracks and give me a name.

'Greta Garbo.'

'A real name' I yell.  But he swears he's telling me the truth.  Fucked out or what?  I grab my coat and stalk out, followed by Fraser.

I left my lighter in Zoltan's lap.  But I didn't go back for it.  One early case, I saw what a deliberately lit fire did to a ten year old kid.  A girl.

I hope that shit Zoltan burns himself real good on it.
 

I hope I'm not boring you too much with all this.  I mean, you'd tell me, wouldn't ya?

Thanks 

Anyway, we get to this Garbo's place, and it's a single room apartment, and it's empty.

So we get the caretaker to open it up, and then we start looking.  I'm tearing the sheets off the bed, the wolf's sniffing in the corners and Fraser's crawling on the floor doing god knows what.

After a few minutes of this, the wolf lets out a yip, and Fraser goes over and pulls a suitcase out of the wardrobe.  It's full of those perfume starters, but I'm more worried about what I fond in the nightstand.  "How to become a Canadian in ten easy steps."

Fraser straightens up, and he's got this look on his face that I'm guessing means he's thinking.  Either that or constipated.

"The consulate."

So we all pile out of the room and back into the car, and I'm reading the pamphlet.  Pretty funny stuff.  'How to become a Canadian in 10 easy steps.  Step 1 - buy a big hat.  Step 2 - lick electrical sockets...'

Anyway, on the way to the consulate, I see that damn blue van again. You know - the one I told you about before. I didn't? Oh, yeah, well, from the moment we left Vecchio's, this blue van kept trailing us.  I don't know if it was a coincidence or what, but I was starting to get the idea that maybe it was psycho pyro's girlfriend.

Fraser borrows the mobile, and has this really weird (well, from my end anyway) conversation with someone called Turnbull.  I guess the phone must have fuzzed out or something, 'cos he folds it up halfway through a sentence and tells me to hurry.

We make it to the consulate, and for once, the place aint on fire.  So we boot on in, and there's this dick called Turnbull on duty.  We're tearing the place apart trying to find the incindary, and he's worried about where to stick his portrait of the queen.

Fraser asks if there were any visitors.  Turnbull reckons that Ice Queen's got an interior designer from Scandinavia in her office.

Who's the Ice Queen?  Fraser's boss.  Quit interrupting.

So we kick in the door to the Ice Queen's office, and she's in there pawing at some blond beefcake.  Dief tears over and knocks the guy flat on his can.  Then Fraser starts quizzing him about his choice of perfume.  Great way to start the day, huh?

Anyway, it turns out Sven aint the guy we're looking for, so we let him up.  The Ice Queen immediately boots me & Sven out, and I'm wincing, thinking that Fraser's gonna come outta that office with a strip a mile wide torn off him.

So while Fraser's getting chewed out, I'm getting bored to death by Turnbull and his analysis of the British Monarchy.  The guy still can't figure where to stick his portrait of the queen, and I'm about ready to hang the damn thing about his neck when I hear the firies coming.

I go out and give 'em the rundown, and I see that damn blue van again.  It's gotta be Garbo.  I thump on the Ice Queen's door and grab Fraser.  By the time he gets into the car, she's taking off, and I have to do some serious tyre burning to catch up.

I catch up to her, we're following her on the freeway, it's going pretty smooth, I got her firmly in my sights and there aint no way I'm gonna lose her - and that's when Fraser drops the bombshell.

'All she has to do is look in her rearview mirror and watch us burst into flames'

So he starts running his hands over the dash, and then he climbs in the back seat, looking for the trigger.  I say ‘I’ll stop the car’

But he says ‘She’s a criminal, got the distance.’ And then he climbs outta the window and starts looking on the roof.  He can’t find it, so he goes out on the bonnet ON A MOVING CAR mind you, then he slides around to check the boot

While he's out the back, I hear this thump, and I'm thinking 'oshit oshit oSHIT I've just killed a Canadian' and then he pops up next to my window and almost stops my heart.

That is it for me, so I lay it all down.  Bang. Bang. Bang. Cards on the table.  I tell him the whole deal – what happened to Vecchio, why I’m here – everything.

And d’you know what he says when he crawls back in?

Nothing

He hadn’t heard a single word.

I’m just about to start over when Garbo slams on the breaks ahead of us. So I lay on the horn and all this smoke starts pouring out of everywhere.  I try to stomp on the brakes - I was planning to ditch the car and run like hell - but the damn Mountie's got an iron grip on my leg.  At first I though he was trying to get on with me or something, but when I bawl him out he gives me this... I dunno... 'Big eyed Mountie Look' and tells me I can't stop the car.  'Well I can't' I say.  'Not with you holding my leg on the gas'

He goes on that I can't ditch the car 'cos of 'Pedestrians'  Pedestrians??  On a Freeway??

'No way' I yell.  I aint getting turned into flambe for no one.  'I do not want to be in this when it blows'.

But he looks me square in the eyes and says: 'It's very very rare that a care actually ever blows up.' And for a moment, I believe him.  Just in that split second before the bonnet goes flying through the air.

So I'm sitting there driving a flaming car through the greater Chicago area and I wonder 'who's gonna foot the bill for this one?  It took me half an hour to convince Vecchio to hand over the keys to the damn car, so I know he's gonna be really pissed when he sees what happened to it.'

And then I think. 'I'm driving a flaming car through the middle of Chicago and I'm worried about the owner being pissed?  When did my life turn into this weird zen-like karmic revenge? Psychotic Mounties climbing all over the outside of moving cars while their deaf, lip-reading wolves get intimate with my inner ear canal, dodging oversized Italians rolling off roofs at me.  When did this become my life?

No wonder Vecchio went undercover.

Anyway, we finally decide to ditch in Lake Michigan.  We're tearing across the tarmac leading up to the edge and he says 'Straight in'

I'm still trying to decide if whether or not this is a good time to tell him I can't swim too good, then we're plowing through some cargo crates and all I can see is water.

 Can I have a drink?  Thanks.
  

So anyway, I can't swim for nuts, but I find that Fraser's got a death grip on my shirt, and then I'm breathing clean air - well, Chicago air at any rate.

Fraser hauls me over to some cargo rigging and we start climbing.  D'you have any idea how much wet jeans weigh?  I'll tell you - a lot.  I think one of those crates we hit before we ditched the car musta had rubber ducks or something in it - all the while I'm climbing outta the water and onto the pier, all I can hear is this ~Squeak Squeak.~  Sounded like a bathtime convention.

Anyway, by the time I roll over and sit up, I see that Psychos girlfriend's already there - and she's got a gun on Fraser.

My first thought was for the Mountie.  I could see he was so goddamned heroic he was gonna try something.  But he aint wearing.  And I seen this womans type before.  She's gonna drill him, and she aint gonna care.

'Put the gun down' Fraser's saying.  Christ, he's still so frigging polite.  It ain't gonna work.  So I step in front of him.

'Put the gun down' I say, and she pulls the trigger.
  

I guess I blacked out for a second or something, 'cos the next thing I know, someone's got a hold of my face.

"Ray."

I sham for a few seconds.  Let me scare the Mountie for a change.

"RAY!"

Ok, long enough I think.  'Tadaaa!' I yell and open my eyes.  I swear, he jumped a foot into the air outta sheer fright.  Felt good.

I yank up my jumper and he looks at me with something like respect.  'A vest' he says.

'Yeah.' I say.  'You called me Ray.'

'No I didn't.'  And he looks like he aint quite sure why he's arguing.

'Yeah.  You did.' I say, and that pissed look comes back into his eyes.

'It was a mistake.'  He yanks me to my feet.
  

 So after all the buzz is dead, and I'm filing case reports, I see him waiting outside Welsh's office.  It's funny - he looks so normal out of the red monkey suit.  Jeans, flannel jacket, hiking boots.  I see him waiting for Welsh with his little bag of evidence he's collected that says I'm not Vecchio that he's been collecting.  He knocks on the door, says something about cracked corn, and the accountant's getting booted out and he goes in.

So I'm sitting out there while Welsh has a talk to him, and I can see that it's all about to hit the fan.

Anyway, five minutes later he comes out minus the baggy, and waves the accountant back in.

I go up to him and hand him a postcard, some icy type snow scene that landed on my desk addressed to him.

He turns it over and there's a message scrawled on the back: 'It's cold out here, heat me up.'  So he grabs a lighter and runs the flame over the back and like magic another picture appears.

Him in the red monkey suit with Vecchio leaning on him.  Typical friends shot, but it means a lot to Fraser, I can tell.

I see he should be alone, so I move off to finish the files.  Then he calls me with "Would you like to go get something to eat with me?" and I see he's got this expression on his face, it's like, oddly hopeful.

I know, 'cos I got the same expression on my face.

So I smile, and say "yeah."

And that's how it happened.

All Content Copyright © 2001 Taleya Joinson
Last modified: November 12, 2010