Disclaimer: The characters used in the following story are not mine. I do not make any money out of this. It's written for fun and for the fans of the show.
Spoiler: none (This takes place before the pilot.)
Rating: NC17 (slash)
Pairing: Vecchio/male
Category: drama/series/AU
Seven Deadly Sins
by Birgitt Schuknecht
Night One (25th of October)
Ira (Anger)
"Wow, Ray, that's the first time I can recognise the colour of your desk. What's got in you?" Elaine had silently made her way over to the Italian detective who stood in front of his desk, a wide smile of contentment on his face.
"Elaine, give me a warning next time, willya? Just right now the prospect of dying of a heart-attack is not very promising. You are talking to a man who has come to a turning point in his live. This is not the old Ray Vecchio."
"I can see that, Ray." Elaine's voice dropped considerably as she tried to ban the amusement that she'd felt only a moment ago from her voice. Despite his choice of words Ray had sounded serious, very serious. This was a rare thing. Ray Vecchio, for once not trying to keep her at a distance with a smart remark, but letting glimpse at his real self. Elaine decided not to let that opportunity slip apart. "Could the new Ray Vecchio explain what's the occasion? You never bothered to tidy up your desk before." Normally Elaine would have done this a bit slower but she feared Ray would shell himself again before she could riddle the puzzle he confronted her with.
A radiant smile lit up Ray's face like a boy on Christmas morning who'd just unwrapped the present he'd most desired. "I never saw the need for it. Never imagined that it could be... important... or of significance, you might say. All this... my desk... the paper work... the filing..." With that he pointed over to the cabinet and Elaine followed his gesture. Yes, he'd also had a hand at that. He continued, "I always thought of it as something keeping me from the real work. Ya know, something to pester me. Something for Welsh to get at me. Boring. Annoying. Pain in the ass."
Elaine nodded, grinning at the detective who waved his arms while he tried to drive his point home. Once again she wondered if he would go mute if they tied his arms. "I got the picture, Ray. What changed your mind?"
Ray's smile turned into a grin that nearly split his face. "Not what, Elaine. Who! I had a... discussion with a friend about this. In the end I had to admit that a well-organised workplace lets you see things that are right in front your nose and that a sophisticated filing system even helps to see connections between different cases."
"I see, Ray. Discussion with a friend. Interesting. What makes me think it was more an argument than a discussion?" Elaine studied the slender man before her. Ray had put his hands in his pockets by now and started playing with his keys. He refused to answer her and just kept grinning. "And what about your former credo that a good detective never relies on the benefits of paper work?"
"I dumped it." Ray's bluntness finally managed to make her laugh out loud. "Hey, Elaine. It's me. I'm an intelligent person. And if this makes me a better cop I go for it. Anything wrong with that?" He stopped playing with the keys of his car and looked at Elaine expectantly.
Elaine hesitated for a moment. This new Ray was quite disarming. Oh, the old Ray had had his charming ways. But still... this was different. There was something new about him. Something in this amazing green eyes. At the next moment Elaine suppressed the urge to slap her own forehead. Ignoring Ray's question she asked in a low voice, "Ray, are you in love?" She didn't want the whole squadroom to know. At least the old Ray wouldn't have had that. And she couldn't be sure about the new one.
"Strike!" He nearly yelled it. Several heads in their direction, just in time to see Ray Vecchio drawing a dumbfounded Civilian Aid in an tight embrace. "What are you staring at?" Ray shouted at them over Elaine's right shoulder. Although he frowned his voice didn't show the tiniest trace of anger, Elaine noted. "Never saw a beautiful girl in the arms of a gorgeous guy? Well, enjoy the show!" With that he released Elaine from his arms. He bent slightly forward placing a tender kiss on her mouth. "Okay, get on with your work. That's all you gonna see for now."
Elaine needed some time to recover from Ray's revelation, the embrace and the kiss. She stared at the detective's back since Ray had turned and was putting on his long, dark coat. After taking in some deep breaths she tapped on Ray's shoulder. "Do I know her?" Ray swirled around and took her right hand into his. He brought the back of her hand to his lips and brushed it lightly.
"No, Elaine. But I appreciate your interest..." He gave her another full smile and she couldn't help but return it. Ray's mood was quite infectious. He let go of her hand. "Maybe one day... but it's too early now. Not even my family knows yet."
Elaine couldn't believe her ears. "They don't know? And you're telling me?"
The detective took his car keys from his pocket, then he switched of the desk light. A shadow fell on the right side of his face. "You asked. And I am grateful you did. I was about to burst with it. Thank you, Elaine."
Without thinking she replied. "You are welcome, Ray. And I hope this will work out for you. For both of you." That got her a third kiss. This time on her forehead. For a second she wondered if she should tell him to stop it. This was getting a bit embarrassing. Though... it felt... nice.
"Thank you again, Elaine. Did I ever tell you that you are a wonderful woman?" With that he left her standing at her desk and made his way to Welsh's office door. Elaine felt the blood rising to her face and involuntarily cast her eyes down. Now this was embarrassing. She felt the looks of her colleagues but she was unable to face them. The shrill ringing of the phone on Ray's desk made her jump. She looked over to Welsh's office and just saw Ray disappear into it. With two steps she was at the desk and answered the call.
"Elaine? Where's Vecchio?" The man at the other end was nearly shouting. "Jack, no need to yell. I can perfectly hear you. Vecchio's in Welsh's office. He's about to leave."
"Get me through to the Lieu's ASAP." Despite her reprimand the detective still shouted. She sighed and made the connection. The phone in her superior's office rang once.
"Welsh." Elaine refused to be taken aback by the harsh sound of the Lieutenant's voice.
"Sir, here's a call for Vecchio. On two. It's Huey." She waited for Welsh taking the call, then put down the receiver.
***
Ray picked up the receiver Welsh handed him over the desk. "Vecchio."
"Ray, you better move your ass over here. We are at a restaurant, "Il sole e la luna". There has been a shooting. One guy dead, two severely injured. The dead guy has no ID with him. But Gardino found your card in his pocket."
"Hold your horses, Huey, I'm on my way. And stop yelling. What's all this about, anyway? I mean the guy can't escape even you two anymore." Ray almost chuckled. Even the prospect of a crime scene couldn't break his high spirits. He raised his shoulders in response to the puzzled expression on his superior's face.
Huey sighed audibly. "I'd preferred to tell you this in person... One of the injured guys is... well, let me put it mildly... an old acquaintance of yours. It's Zuko. He was shot by the dead guy before one of his goons could take him out. Maybe it's a mob thing."
Ray felt a knot twist in his stomach. He hadn't seen Frank Zuko in years. Well, that wasn't correct, he saw him on a regular basis in church. And on any social event in his own neighbourhood. They always kept a considerable distance between them. For the good of both of them. Luckily, the Zuko empire was out of his jurisdiction so there never had been a confrontation on a... professional basis. It seemed that finally fate had decided to ignore the boundaries of jurisdiction. The restaurant the shooting had taken place was only a quarter of a mile from the 27th precinct. "I'll inform Welsh." He killed the connection by placing the handle back on the phone.
For several moments he chose to ignore the gaze of his superior officer. Ray's buoyancy was gone now and he pondered over what he had just heard. Frank Zuko had been shot and the assassin was dead by now. Why didn't he just ignore the whole thing and wait till both sides had decimated themselves? Sighing Ray looked up. "Well?" Welsh brought him back to the matters at hand with that one short word.
"There has been an incident in an Italian restaurant. Probably a mob thing. Frank Zuko has been shot and the attacker is dead now." It was so easy to get this out. Much too easy. He should feel more concern for this case.
Welsh's face flushed a little. "And how do you come into this, Vecchio?"
Ray eyed his superior officer warily. "The dead guy had my card, Sir."
The other man let out a weary sigh and shook his head. "I fear there is no way to keep you out of this case, Vecchio. I just can order you to do this professional. Keep your personal feelings for Zuko out of this, Detective. If you screw this up I will have your ass. Understood?"
"That's an all clear on my side, Lieu. I want Zuko convicted as much as you do." Ray folded his arms behind his back, meeting the stare of Welsh without even blinking once.
"Don't you forget, Vecchio. As far as we know Zuko is the victim here. And now get going." Welsh gave Ray a final nod, then he returned to the files he had been working on.
"Yes, Sir." A second later he stood outside Welsh's office. Elaine came over to him.
"You okay, Ray?" Concern was clearly detectable in her voice. Ray gave her a what he hoped to be a reassuring smile.
"Just another case Huey and Gardino can't handle on their own. What else is new? I'll join them and wrap that little baby up in no time." Ray could see that Elaine wasn't convinced, but he couldn't change that. There was no time. "I'll be in later, if..." He hesitated for a second. "If there are any calls..." Ray broke off.
"Ray, get going. I am perfectly capable of taking messages for you."
The Italian nodded and smiled at her again. "Good girl. Thank you, Elaine." He could barely hide his nervousness. Then he turned his back on her, fumbling for his cell phone in his coat. While he made his way out of the precinct he already tipped in a number. When the connection was made he raised the phone to his ear.
When Ray came to his car, a green 1971 Buick Riviera in mint condition, there still hadn't been an answer. Ray wasn't surprised. It was still early. No wonder Mark wasn't home yet. They had an appointment at eight. Ray wished Mark wasn't so peculiar about cell phones. He just refused to get one, in total ignorance of its advantages. Maybe he should try once more to convince him. He brought the engine to life and pulled out of the curb. He concentrated on the matter that lay before him. This would probably keep him busy the whole night. Mark would kill him.
Ray smiled. He had met Mark in a bar when he was watching a basketball match. Mark's enthusiasm during the game had first drawn his attention and then fascinated him. He shouted and cheered and booed all the time, to the amusement of the other guests and to the anger of the owner of the bar. When one of the referees made what he thought to be a decisive mistake he threw a handful of peanuts at the screen. The owner gave him a final warning and Mark flashed the angry man a toothy grin before he took his drink and settled down at a table in the far corner of the room. It seemed that his interest for the game had totally vanished. Ray had surprised himself by joining the man. He had congratulated him on the performance and it took only the quarter of an hour until he felt he'd known Mark all of his life. They were dating now for three weeks and had seen each other about half a dozen times. They had become intimate after the third date and Ray knew he had fallen hard, very hard for the man. He still didn't know much about him, but being with Mark was so right that he didn't have many questions. From: Birgitt Schuknecht
It took Ray only five minutes to reach "Il sole e la luna". He had been there before. It wasn't one of his favourite places to dine but it was in a convenient distance to the precinct and the food was okay. And Angelo, the owner, was a nice enough guy. It was not his fault that his pasta couldn't compete with that of Ray's mother.
Ray stopped in front of the building the restaurant was located in. He got out and passed two patrol cars and Huey's and Gardino's car. Two ambulances and the coroner's vehicle stood as near to the entrance as possible. When he was nearing the place he pulled out his badge and flashed it before the uniformed officers who were busy to get rid of the crowd of onlookers that had already gathered. The officers only nodded and waved him through.
The premise was a total chaos. It took Ray some time before he could make out the details. Upturned tables and chairs, glass and broken dishes littered the floor. Carefully he made his way to the middle of the room where Huey and Gardino were talking to Angelo. The Italian had difficulties to keep himself under control. He looked relieved when Ray joined them.
"Ah, Detective Vecchio. Please could you tell your colleagues that I am an honourable man. This..." he looked around himself in near panic, "I can't believe what happened here. Oh, madonna mia, this is going to ruin me. No one will come to a place where they have to fear to get shot by mobsters."
"Angelo, I am certain Detectives Huey and Gardino are fully capable of handling this. And no one will suspect you're part of this crime. Just tell them what happened. You help us and we can help you. And don't you worry about business. As far as I can tell this will only attract more people to your place."
The sparkle in the short man's dark eyes told Ray he had succeeded in calming him down. At least for the moment. He pulled Huey to the side. "Now, Huey, fill me in."
"Well, there's nothing much to relate here. Zuko and two of his goons had just sat down at a table at the rear end of the restaurant. It cannot be seen from outside. Angelo was taking their orders when the back door opened and the attacker ran in, his weapon already in his hand. He fired the gun three times at Zuko. He hit him and the man sitting at his right hand side before Zuko's other man shot him. He was dead on the spot. Hit him in the head with one shot." Huey nodded to his right side. "Zuko and his men are over there, the medics are still with them. I think their injuries aren't as bad as they first looked. Much blood, but no vital organs are affected."
Ray gave Huey a clap on his back and went over to Frank Zuko's group. The medics just finished bandaging the two injured men. The third man stood as he got sight of Ray and came over to greet him. "Ray. It's good to see you again. But what are you doing here?"
Ray ignored the outstretched hand. "This is my district, remember, Charlie? You got yourself killed around here, I will have the honour to deal with the mess. How's Frankie?" He and Frank Zuko had been friends when they still were boys. That was about twenty years ago. Now they were clearly fighting on different sides.
"He will be fine. The fellow was absolutely no hitman."
"I think that's why he's dead now, Charlie. Was it necessary to kill him?" Ray looked at the older man. He didn't expect an answer. And he didn't get one. Charlie had been Frank Zuko's right hand man from the beginning. He had already worked for Frankie's father. When Frankie had inherited the Zuko Empire, Charlie had been part of the inventory. A valuable asset. Ray left him standing and seated himself next to Frank Zuko.
"Ray, what a pleasant surprise. I should have known you'd turn up. Don't worry about me, I'll be as good as new in no time." The Italian beamed at the cop. His face was pale, but his eyes vivid. Ray couldn't hinder to admire the man's spirit. Or maybe this was some weird kind of shock.
"He must have hit you worse then you think, Frankie. What makes you think that I could worry about you?" Ray had no difficulties to give his voice an icy tone. Although there had never been an evidence, he knew that under the jovial and well-mannered surface Frank Zuko was one of the most reckless and cruel mob bosses of the whole of Illinois.
"Ray, Ray, Ray. Maybe I should point out to you that I was nearly shot by a lunatic. Face it, I am the victim here."
"Don't get any funny ideas, Frankie. And don't try to play any games with me. You know and I know that you're no more a victim than that dead guy over there. I will play this by the book, but if you think that'll keep me off your ass, you made your final mistake." Nothing had changed. Ray still had the involuntary need to challenge the mob boss; like it had been when they had been kids. "You know your attacker?"
"No, never saw him before. This must be a coincidence. I didn't even plan to dine here. It was just a decision of the moment. We were driving through this street and I liked the name of this place. I was just curious about the food." Frankie gave him a level stare.
Ray didn't buy his show for a second, but decided to deal with the business Zuko had had on his agenda later on. He called over to Charlie, "And what about you? You know the guy?"
"No, Ray, I saw him for the first time in my life. And for the last time in his life."
"Yeah. Sure. Whatever." Ray was furious and felt helpless. With an effort he reminded himself that Zuko and his goons actually were the victims in this case and that he could do nothing about it. Not yet, that was. He had orders to follow. He turned to the medics. "Will these men be fit to come to the precinct tomorrow morning?"
One of them nodded confirmation. "Nothing to worry about. They have to check with their doctors, but they will be okay now. We gave them painkillers and that should bring them through the night. As I understand this man," he nodded in Charlie's direction, "can drive them home."
"Thanks, guys." Ray turned to Frank Zuko again. "I'll see you first thing in the morning. We'll need your testimonies for the record. You know the drill."
"How should I know, Detective? I am an honourable citizen of this town and my dealings with law enforcement are well assorted. Just last Saturday I had lunch with the DA at my place." Frank Zuko's smile didn't reach his eyes. Ray knew when to hold himself back. He didn't always act upon this knowledge, but he did this time. He wouldn't risk to screw this case up just for the benefit of a smart remark that would infuriate Frank Zuko.
"I'm sure it was a pleasant occasion. See ya in the morning, Frankie." With that he stood and went over to the back door where a corpse lay sprawled on the floor. The Coroner who knelt beside the body looked up and raised himself, thereby blocking Ray's view. "Detective Vecchio. Zuko's bodyguard did a really good job. One shot and he was dead on the spot. You'll have my report first thing in the morning."
Ray nodded slowly. "Looks like a suicide to me, Doc. Or the deed of a lunatic. He only scratched Zuko and his man. Definitely not a hitman. Let me have a look at him."
The Coroner knelt down again and pulled the blanket back to uncover the dead man's face. Ray took a step closer and bent forward. His stare was attracted by the hole in the man's forehead and he shook his head slightly to break his look free. As he saw the dead man's eyes he stomach turned. Sweat broke out on his face and he gasped for breath frantically. His legs went weak and he nearly sagged to the floor. Just in time the Coroner jumped up to grab him at his arms and steadied him.
"Whoa, Detective, surely this is not your first corpse. You okay?" With the Coroner's help Ray stumbled over to one of the upturned chairs. The Coroner put the chair on its legs with one hand, the other hand holding a firm grip on Ray's arm, and then he pushed Ray down on it. The detective trembled and shivered. He hugged himself firmly and stared over at the still body.
Suddenly Gardino blocked his view. "Vecchio, you seen a ghost?" the detective asked him with a clear trace of amusement in his voice. Ray just looked up at his colleague, shaking his head. He saw Gardino's expression change in the fraction of a second. "Oh, Jesus, he had your card. You know this guy, don't ya?"
"Mark. It's Mark." And Ray's mind kept repeating it. It's Mark... it's Mark... Next thing Ray knew was that Gardino shook him by his shoulders. "Hey, Ray, snap out of it. Who's the guy?"
"My lover," and Ray broke of again. He couldn't any longer repress the urge to retch and jumped out of the chair. He didn't even make it half way to the toilets. He clutched to the back of chair, bent over it and threw up. After a couple of moments he straightened carefully, wiping his face with the sleeve of his coat. Then he felt Gardino's arms around himself and was led over to another chair. He still couldn't stop shivering.
Gardino knelt in front of him and searched for his eyes. Ray couldn't avoid his colleague's stare any longer. Then someone grabbed his hand and placed a glass in his hand. Ray turned his head. It was Huey who nodded at him. "Drink that, Vecchio." He eyed the colourless liquid suspiciously. "For God's sake, man, that's only water." He took a slow slip, then some more until the bitter taste in his mouth finally subsided.
Gardino tried again. "Vecchio, let me get this straight. The dead man over there is... was... your lover?" Ray chuckled humourlessly at the incredulous tone of Gardino's voice. No one knew. Not his family, not his colleagues. There never had been the need nor the opportunity to tell them. He never imagined to have a coming out like that. Then he remembered Mark's eyes again. His dead eyes. Still he had the impression they focused on him. He shuddered. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Huey walk away, only to return a few moments with one of the medics. A blanket was placed around his shoulders. It felt like a burden.
He swallowed hard and his first words came out shaky. "Right. Met him three weeks ago. In a bar. His name's Mark Simpson. I teased him about his surname. Told him it was quite fitting with that yellow hair of his."
"I'm sorry, Ray, but could you explain us what possible reason he had for this? Any connection with Zuko?" Gardino was interrupted by the medic.
"I think the detective is in no state to answer any..." Ray lost track of the starting discussion. Zuko. This was all Frankie's fault. Had to be. There was no way that he was an innocent victim while Mark was a lunatic killer. 'There must be. And I'll find it out.' He shrugged of the blanket and jumped from the chair, thereby pushing over Gardino. He ignored the cries of his colleagues and the medic and made his way over to Frank Zuko and his men. They stared at him, stunned, having witnessed the events of the last minutes.
Zuko made a step into Ray's direction. Ray welcomed him by hitting him on his face with his right fist, sending the other man down on the floor. Then he hauled him up again, grabbing at the lapels of his jacket. "You pay for this, Frankie. You killed him and now I kill you." He hit Zuko again full force but he didn't get another chance. Gardino and Huey pulled him back and pinned him on a chair. He struggled violently, but in vain. All he could do was yelling and that he did. "You killed him. I make you pay, Zuko. You'll have to watch your back for the rest of your life. You hear me, Zuko. You'll die for this."
Gardino turned to Zuko. "Get out of here, Zuko. Now!" Ray fought helplessly against his two colleagues and watched Zuko leaving. He let out a final scream before he finally sagged in the chair. Exhausted he closed his eyes. His mind felt like it was on fire. Burning with rage and anger.
Night Two (26th of October)
Invidia (Envy)
Dead eyes. Again. Just like yesterday. They even had the same colour. No wonder. After all she was Mark's sister. For a long moment Ray had the impression of a deja vu. That impression vanished as he inspected the dead body before him for the second time.
The young woman who lay dead in her small apartment had been the victim of a brutal killer. All visible evidence indicated that she had been raped and then stabbed to death. Ray looked at her wounds, her torn and blood-stained clothes, her dishevelled hair... He stretched out his right hand to straighten the long blond strands that hung into her face, but than he stopped himself. The nightmares would be bad enough without touching her. Instead he stood, walked over to the next wall and slammed his flat hand on it. "If he'd only told me... Maybe I could have prevented..." He broke off.
"Ray," Huey tapped him on his shoulder and he turned to face his colleague, leaning with his back against the wall. "You have no idea what happened here. I mean, we don't even know if those two crimes are connected. Maybe it's just a..."
"A coincidence? No chance in hell, Huey." Ray knew that Huey was only trying to keep him in check, but still he couldn't hold back his retort.
"Still, we have no idea about the kind of connection we have here. The blood is dried and her body is ice cold. She must be dead for several hours. We have to wait for the Coroner's report before we draw any conclusions."
The impatient tone told Ray that his colleague's nerves started to wear off and wondered why the other man still bothered talking to him. But then he could also wonder why he was still on this case. After his behaviour at the restaurant Welsh had had enough reason to confine him to his desk for several lives to come. Ray had snapped out of his frenzy just in time before Huey and Gardino had started to handcuff him and brought him back to the precinct as a present for their superior officer. Nonetheless they'd given Welsh a detailed report. The stare Ray had got from the Lieutenant had told him that he was out of the game.
Not so. Welsh had sent out Huey and Gardino and hadn't even lectured him on his behaviour. He'd just offered Ray two alternatives. "You have the pick, Detective. One: You get your ass out of my office and join Huey and Gardino in the investigation, showing me, the rest of the world and above all yourself that you are a good cop who can handle his personal involvement in a case professionally. Two: If you decide to make up your own rules, you still get your ass out of my office and out of this precinct until further notice - without your weapon and your badge that is. Your choice, Detective."
Of course both of them knew that there was a third alternative. And Ray had every intention to take it.
They had found a key in Mark's apartment, belonging to a safe deposit box. The box had contained papers that revealed Mark's true identity, several savings books, shares and bonds. Ray had learned that he had been wrong when he thought he knew very little of his lover. He knew absolutely nothing about Markus O'Reilly who called himself Mark Simpson.
Mark - or Markus - was a rich man. The value of his possessions was about a quarter of a million in total. Lonegan, expert for white-collar crimes at the 27th, still worked himself through the notebooks that had also been in the deposit box and which contained information about Mark's financial transactions. One thing was certain. There was no way that Mark had earned all his money at the place he had been working.
That was the only fact that turned out to be true about him. Just like he had told Ray he had been a teacher in a small community in the outskirts of Chicago. There he had taught the children of some families who lead an alternative life and refused to send their children to a public school. They had paid him well, but not well enough to enable him to gather this fortune.
While Ray had found the deposit box Huey and Gardino had interrogated Zuko and his men. Ray hadn't been surprised to learn that their testimonies didn't offer any new information. After he had left Lonegan to deal with Mark's financial affairs he'd settled down to study the Coroner's report. The cause of death being obvious there wasn't any surprises in it. Mark had been in perfect health. No traces of drugs whatsoever. Ray had silently cursed. That would have been a possibility. Although he couldn't imagine Mark being a junkie. But then again he couldn't imagine him being a killer either.
Then Elaine had turned up with the address of Mark's parents. Ray had stared at the piece of paper until Huey had snatched it from him. "I'll do that. You check out his workplace and Gardino can question his neighbours."
Ray still marvelled how relieved he had been that Huey had taken that decision from him. Mark had never spoken of his family, despite Ray's weak attempts to find out something personal about his lover. He had suspected that they weren't happy about Mark being gay. Or maybe they didn't even know it...
He had been on his way back to the precinct from the community. The only unusual fact about the last day had been that Mark had left earlier. He had asked for it two days earlier without giving any explanation. But since he hadn't talked about his private life at all with his employers, they hadn't been surprised. They'd described Mark as nice, competent and keeping to himself. Nothing in his behaviour had indicated the tragedy that took place only hours after he'd left work.
While Ray had been pondering about possible explanations for his lover's actions Huey called and informed him that he was on his way to Mark's sister who also lived in Chicago. The parents had tried to contact her but she hadn't answered the phone. Ray had felt uneasy about this new information. He'd asked Huey for the address and told him to meet him at the apartment.
That had been about twenty minutes ago. He and Huey had nearly arrived at the same time. When no one had answered their call they'd broken the door with combined forces, guns in their hands. It had been a horrible sight. It still was.
Ray looked at the body that had once been Mark's younger sister, Catriona. "Tell me everything you know about her." He looked at his colleague, trying to ignore the helplessness he felt.
Huey shrugged. "As much I can gather it from what her parents told me, she was the only one who had accepted her brother's sexual orientation. Their father chooses to ignore the fact that his son was gay and the mother just seems to be too dominated by him to say otherwise. Catriona decided two months ago to leave for Chicago as well. The first two weeks she stayed with her brother before she found an apartment of her own. From what the O'Reillys told me I got the impression that the two siblings were really close."
Ray wasn't exactly addressing the other detective when he said, "He didn't even mention her to me. There were no pictures or letters... Nothing. Nothing personal at all."
"So?" Huey asked carefully, as if he feared to break Ray's line of thought.
"I mean it's like he was a man without a past, without roots. On the other hand, he was so alive when we were..." Ray broke off as he realised that he had spoken aloud. 'Yes, everything was all right when we were together. Mark lived for the moment, not caring where he came from or where he was going.'
As the forensics team and the Coroner showed up, he made his way out of the apartment. "I'm on my way, Huey. I just check with the precinct and then I'll go home." He didn't even wait for Huey to answer. He nearly ran down the stairs of the apartment building, got into the Riv and sped off.
Ray needed only a few minutes when he reported to Welsh. The Lieutenant didn't comment on his lack of discipline. Still, Ray was aware of the fact that he didn't approve. But he couldn't care less. Huey could deal with the formalities. He clearly had no mind for this.
During the drive to his neighbourhood he thought about the possible connections between the two crimes. Catriona O'Reilly had been murdered and probably raped. The deed of a lunatic? Ray started at his own thought. That was exactly the expression Frankie had used for Mark.
Could it be possible? That Mark had also murdered his own sister? Even raped her? No, that didn't make sense. If he had run amuck after he killed Catriona he would have ran into the next public place and started shooting without thinking. No way that he would drive a few miles, pick out the "Il sole e la luna", enter from the back and shoot at Frank Zuko who had been present by sheer coincidence.
Ridiculous thought. Ray was still convinced that Mark had wanted to kill Frank Zuko. But where was the motive? There could only be one explanation. If Catriona was dead long enough for Mark to have found her, dead or dying...
Ray brought the Riviera to an abrupt stop, nearly causing a collision with the car behind him. Mark must have had reason to believe that Zuko was responsible for his sister's death. That was the motive he had looked for. Ray knew he had no evidence and he was certain that it would be hard to come by. But it was enough for him to try an attack on his own. He was tired to wait for others to act, leaving him only with the option to react. Although he only had a fraction of the puzzle's pieces he was determined to give it a try. Maybe he could get a reaction from Zuko. Shake his confidence...
Ray was aware of the risks. He could lose his job. He easily ignored that fact. It was worth it. For a second he wondered about the possibility that he could screw up the case this way. No. Frankie wasn't so stupid. There won't be any evidence that the Zuko Empire was be related to a murder case.
Still, it was a blind shot. Ray had absolutely no idea of Frankie's motives - if he was in this at all. Ray sighed. It was such a long time since the two of them had been friends. He shook his head. He just had to do something. All this hesitation didn't help a bit.
Ray started his car again and drove over the Zuko residence. He stopped in front of the impressive building, killing the engine. He remembered it well. Too well. The ghosts of his past were still with him. Playing tricks with his mind. Again he could hear Frankie's gentle voice, trying to humour him enough to follow Frankie's lead. "Come on, Ray, it won't kill you. We'll be in and out of it in no time. It'll be fun. Just wait and see." He remembered clearly the boy's face back then, smiling and eyes sparkling. Ray had lost count how often he had let himself be persuaded to take part in one of Frankie's adventures. And it hadn't been always fun for them.
Ray banned his memories to a remote part of his mind and looked over to the house again. It was near dark now and nearly all the windows were lit. It seemed to be such a warm glow... The door opened and a man came out. He made his way over to Ray, leaving the door open. He came up at the driver's door. It was Charlie. Ray wasn't surprised and opened his window.
"Mr. Zuko wants you to join the family, Ray. They are just about to begin with dinner." Ray studied the man's expression, trying to calculate his intentions. But all he could think of was that he was reacting again, instead of acting himself.
"I'm coming. Lead the way." With that he got out of the car and followed Charlie to the house. He knew every inch of it. It hadn't changed a bit in the last twenty years. Expensive carpets, heavy and richly ornamented furniture, old paintings depicting the late family members. And every single room was lit by candles and candelabra.
They entered the dining room, Charlie still in the lead. Yes, the whole Zuko family was present. Not so different from the Vecchio tradition, but clearly different in style. All were dressed up to the occasion. The table was perfectly set and at the sight and scent of the food Ray's mouth watered. It had been more than a whole day since he had eaten something decent.
Ray forced himself to concentrate on his plan. Plan! That was such an unfitting expression for what he was going to do. But he wouldn't back off now. He just couldn't.
"Ray, what a pleasant surprise to see you again so soon. You know my family. My mother, my..." Frank Zuko stood and smiled at him with his usual radiant smile, pointing out his family members.
The detective had no mind for this. "Stop this, Frankie. I'm not here to exchange pleasantries with you. Excuse me, Mrs. Zuko, I have business with your son, so if you excuse us, we..."
Frankie wasn't to be stopped it seemed. "Ray, you can't do this to me. We can have dinner together just like in the old times. Then there will be still time to talk. Charlie, get Ray a plate."
Ray wondered for a second if he should play along. Then he remembered Mark's and Catriona's eyes. "No, thank you, Frankie. No dinner for me. Let's get it over with. It won't take long. Can we go to your office?"
Frankie slowly shook his head. "What a pity. But since you insist..." He left the dining room through a second door, leaving it open for Ray to follow. Ray entered the study that was used as an office. He closed the door behind him, shutting it right in front of Charlie's nose.
"How rude, Ray." Frankie grinned at him humourlessly.
"Yes, I know. But as I said I have no mind for games right now. I just returned from another crime scene."
"And?" Frankie's expression was pure innocence.
"The victim was Catriona O'Reilly. She's the sister of the man who tried to kill you yesterday." Ray heard that his voice shook a little with anger. 'Damn, you are supposed to play this cool.'
"And?" Frankie repeated, still smiling.
"There's only one possible explanation for Mark's attempt to kill you. He must think you're responsible for his sister's death." As Ray had expected Frankie broke into laughter.
"That's crazy, Ray, and you know it. Where's your evidence? Where's your warrant?"
"You don't deny it?"
"What? That I'm responsible for this crime? Why should I? You wouldn't believe me anyway, would you, Ray?" He had stopped laughing by now. "Ray, why don't you give up this little game of yours? You know you can't win this. All those years since you left..." Frankie shook his head in a gesture of regret. "And still you can't accept the fact that you're fighting a war you can't win."
"One day I will, Frankie." Finally his voice was firm.
"Not if you're playing by their rules."
"What makes you think I will play by their rules forever, Frankie?" Ray stared at his opponent. "I've learned a lot of your rules as well. Maybe it's time for me to use those."
"Don't be ridiculous, Ray. As soon as you ignore police regulations you lose your fight. It would be a final defeat for you." Ray couldn't reply to that. "You know I am right. Do you know what you are? You are jealous. You envy my power. You envy me because I have no qualms to destroy people's life. To destroy other people and walk away and go on with my own life."
And Ray realised that Frankie was absolutely right.
Night Three (27th of October)
Avaritia (Greed)
"Mama, I'm back." Ray closed the door behind him with a loud thud and leaned against it, exhausted. It had been another long day at the precinct, full of routine police work. Being out on the streets couldn't be more tiring. Right now the O'Reilly cases had come to a standstill. Just more and more reports without any revealing truths. Apart from two things - Catriona O'Reilly had been raped and had been killed some time between 3 and 6 p.m. on the 25th. Both facts fitted Ray's theory perfectly - along with Frankie's reaction to his accusations.
His mother poked her head out of the kitchen, giving him a warm smile. Ray returned it, "It's good to be home. I could need some of your magic soup, Mama."
"Just get changed, Raimondo. It will be ready in no time." She eyed him suspiciously. Ray knew he must look like hell. He'd only slept a handful of hours in the last two days and he feared that won't change in the near future. If it wasn't the case that left him restlessly, it surely would be some new nightmares featuring Ray Vecchio and his very special bunch of demons and monsters. Ray made his way over to the staircase.
"Raimondo?"
"Yes, Mama?" He turned once more to his mother.
"It's good to have you home, caro." She was worried about him. And she had every right to be. The stress he had been under had made him nervous and irritable, and the short time he'd spent home he'd mostly quarrelled with his younger sister Frannie or had whined about the impossibility to find some peace under his own roof.
"I better change now." With that he left her standing and got up the stairs. One more look into his mother's face would make him ran over to her, hug her and burst into tears. And he couldn't risk to lose that energy. Not before this case was closed.
***
The window in his room was still open and it was very cold. In the already dim light he went to the window and started to close it. He could here children's voices down below and bent slightly out of the window. "Michael, are you boys still outside? Dinner will be ready in no time."
"Uncle Ray! You home already?" Ray couldn't make out the expression on the young boy's face, it was getting dark now rapidly, but could hear the enthusiasm in his voice. He already regretted to have made his presence known to the boy. As Michael ran in the house - leaving behind him the neighbours' kids - Ray closed the window and switched on the lights. He changed into sweater and jeans. Better prepared for an adventurous eight year-old who was about to attack him.
He didn't have to wait long. The door was pushed open and Michael nearly threw himself into Ray's arms. The detective gave the boy a hug, then he grabbed him at his shoulders, knelt down and looked into the huge brown eyes of his nephew. "What about a proper greeting, Michael?" He tousled the thick brown hair affectionately.
"Hi, Uncle Ray! Do you gonna play with me?" Michael gave him a toothy smile.
"It will be pitch dark after dinner."
"We can turn on the lights." The boy's smile turned into a mischievous grin.
Ray looked incredulously at his nephew. "Lights? Does that mean your father finally got to fix them?" Michael nodded eagerly. Ray chuckled. No more excuses. "Let's have dinner first, okay?" That was all the confirmation the boy needed. In a flash he was out of the room again, storming down the hallway and the stairs. Ray stayed kneeling for some more moments. He was grateful for the distraction. Having a little workout after dinner would do him good.
***
Dinner was another welcome distraction. Ray pushed back all thoughts and enjoyed his mother's cooking. He sat there, taking in all the noise that was an inevitable part of a real Vecchio dinner. Normally he would have joined the teasings and arguments but tonight he was just glad to be home.
"Raimondo?"
Ray looked at his mother. "Yes, Mama?"
"You're not eating. Is anything wrong with the veal?" Ray could tell by the expression on her face that she knew that there was nothing wrong with it.
"Of course not. I was just... Maybe I'm a little tired. I'll go to bed early I promise. Right after teaching the kid a lesson in basketball. Eh, Michael?" He gave his nephew who had been following the short discussion between his grandmother and his uncle a light slab on the back. Then he returned his attention to the food once more. All the time he saw out of the corner of his eye the concerned glances his mother gave him. She still didn't know about Mark or the case. Ray wasn't sure if he should tell her. No, that could wait. Until the moment the case is concluded.
***
They had only taken some shots as a warm up when Ray started at a sound in his back. He swivelled around and saw a dark, looming figure. "What a touching scene, Detective. I hate to interrupt you, but Mr. Zuko wants to see you."
Ray swallowed hard. He turned to Michael. "Get in the house, kid. I'm sorry but this is important."
"But you promised." Michael stamped his right foot onto the concrete, clutching the basketball in his arms. He frowned at him and Ray sighed.
"Yeah, I did. But this is my work, got it? Now get inside to your mother and grandmother." He placed his hands on his hips and waited for the boy to disappear into the house, who slammed the door shut behind him. Then Ray turned to his visitor. "What does he want from me?"
"That's of no concern. You just accompany me." The man came a little nearer. Ray recognised his face but he didn't know his name.
"And if I do not?" Ray knew the answer but he just wanted to buy some time. To what use that would be he couldn't tell.
"You know very well that there are means to persuade you to change your mind. Detective, why don't we stop playing games and you just go with me? You'd make my boss happy." The man smiled at him and Ray could tell that the guy was ready to act on his words.
"I'll tell my family not to worry. You don't want to have my mother inform the police about my disappearance, do you?"
***
Ray stood in Frankie's study again, waiting for his host to appear. Frankie's man had led him here and then left without a word. After about five minutes Ray went over to the comfortable-looking armchair that stood to the left of him. He slumped down onto it. He turned his head and eyed the books on the shelf next to him. Most of them looked as if they never had been touched, let alone read. He stretched out his left hand and pulled out a copy of what turned out to be "Treasure Island". He leafed through it, taking in the comforting scent of it. He searched for the scene where the blind guy gets killed. The book had been one of his favourites when he was a young boy and that scene had given him shudders whenever he'd read it.
Before he could start reading, the door opened and Frankie came in, with Charlie in tow. Ray was surprised to see that he was dabbing the right corner of his mouth with a blood-stained handkerchief. "Frankie! What happened? A discussion with your wife about who's top or bottom? I hope you won."
Frankie shot him an icy stare. "Shut up, Vecchio, or I'll make you. I have a present for you." He tossed an envelope towards Ray who caught it with his left hand, his right still holding "Treasure Island". Ray stared at the letter intently. It was crumpled and there were brown stains on it. He turned it and it was bearing his name, followed by the address of the 27th.
Ray straightened in the chair, closed the book and placed it down on the floor before him. Then he turned the envelope in his hand again and again. It was already open. He stared at Frankie who seemed to be very busy with nursing the bruise that started to develop in his face.
Finally Frankie seemed to feel Ray's gaze on him and looked up. "Don't you want to read it, Ray? I can promise you it will be very... interesting." He started to smile but then he took in a sharp breath, his hand touching the wound carefully.
"You read it." It was not a question.
"Of course I did. I am concerned about your well-being, Ray. I always have been. The... circumstances under which I got hold of this letter were rather unusual. I feared that its content could endanger your career or even worse, your life."
Ray pulled out the letter. He checked for the signature. "Mark." His heart skipped a beat and he closed his eyes for a second. The letter dated the 25th of October. The day his lover died. Ray wondered for a second if he should just tear it to pieces. The fact that Frankie gave it to him for reading was definitely a bad sign. Nothing good could come out of this.
"Ray!
When you read this, I have left Chicago. I should have done so three weeks ago. The day after I first met you. It would have been easier then. But I didn't know then. Simply couldn't know. And there was the money. More than I ever dreamt of. I found out that Frank Zuko is a generous man when it comes to pay quality work. He paid well. He paid me a fortune - for seeking you out, for becoming your friend, for being your lover. I have no excuse for my actions. At the beginning it was just a job. No. Not just a job. It was the opportunity to get me all the money I ever longed for. I told myself that I did it to become independent. To enable me to live a life regardless of other people's opinion. Now I know I lied to myself. To calm my scruples. It was simply greed. Ray, it was you who made me realise it. You showed me a different kind of greed. Your passion for life and love simply blow me over. I fell in love with you. I hope you can believe me. When I realised what happened to me I tried to get out of the deal with Frank Zuko. But I underestimated the man. Or his hate for you. Ray, I have a sister. Catriona. He threatened to hurt her, to kill her, if I didn't go on. He told me nothing of his motives. He just told me he wanted to bring you down. "A gay detective... mixing with a hustler... that should end his career." I can't be part of this any longer. So I decided to leave you. Catriona and me will be out of Frank Zuko's grasp by now. Ray, I wish I had never met you. No, that's not true. I wouldn't miss the last weeks.
Mark"
Ray had the impression that he'd heard his dead lover's voice when he'd read those last words. "I wouldn't miss the last weeks." He suppressed a shudder as folded the letter again and put it back into the envelop.
"Why?" He looked up at Frankie who stood with his back leaned against his desk.
The mob boss shrugged. "I wanted to get you off the street, Ray. My business is expanding, you know. My associates agreed with me that it would be a good strategy to take over another neighbourhood."
Ray nodded. "Your visit at Angelo's place was no coincidence." Frankie lifted his hands in a apologising gesture.
"What went wrong?" With an effort Ray held his growing anger in check.
"With Mark's little sister? That was an accident. A regrettable accident. I had got the impression that Mark would need some more enthusiasm and encouragement. But good personnel is hard to come by these days. The man I sent to her got carried away a little. I will see to this later."
Ray he ld up the envelop. "How did you get your hands on this?"
"The man who killed the girl brought it to me. Mark lost it when he found her."
"How did Mark know where to find you?" Ray had the impression he was holding an interrogation here. But nothing of the information he gathered here would be of any worth outside this room. He stood up and started pacing the study.
"We had an appointment. To clear some details."
"Details about how to bring me down." Ray had stopped his pacing and turned to Frankie. "Why don't you just kill me? It would spare you a lot of fuss." 'And me too,' he thought tiredly.
"Maybe you're right, Ray. But then... the price for killing you would be very high. First, it's bad for business to kill officers. Second..." Frankie broke off.
The detective closed the gap between them and stared down into Frankie's eyes. "Yes?"
"Second it would spoil all the fun."
With a scream Ray was at the other man's throat. His hands seemed to express all the emotions that had built up inside him. Frankie stared at him with his eyes wide open, his arms flailing helplessly. With a thud a blow connected with the back of Ray's head and the detective sagged against Frankie, his hands letting go of his throat. Frankie pushed him back and he fell onto his back and his head bumped onto the carpeted floor. His vision blurred and he had to fight to stay conscious. A feeling of nausea washed through him and he barely avoided to throw up.
Ray was yanked up to his feet by Charlie who grabbed him by his sweater. He had difficulties to stay on his feet and Charlie held him upright from behind, turning him so that he faced Frankie. He blinked some times to clear his vision. Frankie's face was red and sweaty and his breathing came ragged. "You... you will pay for this. How do you dare to touch me?" he yelled, his face only a fraction distant from Ray's.
Without thinking Ray retorted, "There had been a time when you wished for nothing else, Frankie."
Frankie hit him in the face with the back of right hand. Once. Twice. Ray closed his eyes, preparing himself for the next attack. But the third blow never came. "Ray, Ray, Ray. Why do you do this to yourself? To us? Things could be a lot easier." Frankie's voice had dropped, was nearly a whisper now.
Ray opened his eyes warily, all the time expecting another hit. Instead, Frankie raised his right hand and touched Ray's left cheek. The detective pulled back his head. "Hold him steady," Frankie ordered and Ray felt an iron grip in the back of his neck. Then another grip got hold of his wrists, pinning them together. Ray increased his efforts to break free.
"That won't do." Frankie grabbed Ray by his sweater, turned him around and slammed him with his back into the shelves behind him. Another wave of nausea hit him and he coughed. He let his head hang down on his chest, trying to regain his breathing. "Get something to tie him." Frankie nearly yelled again.
Ray lifted his head and observed Charlie leaving the room. He stared at the open door until the man returned, with a rope in his hand. Frankie made Ray bent forward slightly, so that Charlie could get hold of his hands. All the time Ray tried to regain some control over his mind, let alone his body. He wasn't able to think of a strategy, he wasn't able to fight back.
When his hands were tied on his back Frankie ordered in a sharp voice, "Leave us alone." Ray watched numbly as Charlie opened the door and got out in silence. As soon as the door was closed Frankie slammed Ray into the shelves again. Ray lifted his head in defiance, gathering the poor remains of his spirit. "What would your father say if he could see what you are doing to his precious collection? Remember when you spilled hot chocolate on his first edition of Huckleberry Finn?"
That got him another blow in the face and his head bumped on the shelve behind him. This time Frankie had used his fist. Ray felt his legs go wobbly and the blood trickling down from his nose. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore the dizziness in his head. He concentrated on the touch of Frankie's hands that rested on his chest, holding him thus upright.
Frankie's voice was a hiss in Ray's ears. "My father is of no concern here, Ray. Don't you speak of him ever again."
Ray forced himself to smile. "Whatever you want, Frankie. This is your territory after all, isn't it? You rule." He opened his eyes. He had to blink several times to get a clear view of his opponent.
"Did I finally get some sense in that thick head of yours, Ray? You should have learned that a long time ago."
"Well, Frankie, you know that I'm a slow learner. Always been." Ray coughed again. "Could we end this, please? I have to get up early. There is a case waiting for me. Why don't we call it a day, Frankie?"
"We, Ray? There hadn't been a 'we' in a long, long time. I think it's time to refresh some memories." Ray tried to evade the touch of Frankie's hand again, but Frankie didn't heed his efforts. He stepped into Ray, pinning him against the shelves. Ray started breathing heavily. Frankie raised his left hand and started to caress Ray's other cheek as well. Then Frankie pulled his head down, until he could reach Ray's lips with his own.
Ray pressed his lips together tightly, struggling against Frankie's tongue that tried to enter his mouth. Finally Frankie just pressed together Ray's nostril's until the detective had to open his mouth to suck in breath. Frankie's tongue darted forward and entered Ray's mouth. 'Bite it off,' flashed through Ray's mind, but the thought was forgotten the fraction of a second later. He nearly gagged, but the gurgling sound deep down in his throat turned into a moan when Frankie's tongue slit along his palate, like a caress.
Without thinking Ray let his own tongue got entwined with Frankie and he felt himself relax against the other man. The next moment he pulled back his head. 'What am I doing here? This is the man who killed Mark..." He tried to say something but his voice failed him. He could just gasp for breath.
"No, Ray. This is my game. I started it. And I will end it." Ray stared at Frankie and realised that he was serious. In vain, he struggled against the rope. It cut into his wrists, making him gasp in pain.
"Damn you, Frankie..." Finally he found his voice. But his curse was stopped by another blow in his face. Frankie let go of him and he fell heavily down to the floor, onto his side. A second later Frankie was on him, turning him on his back. He started to kiss him again and Ray's resistance rapidly faded. He felt too numb now to fight back. The probing of Frankie's tongue was disgusting and delightful at the same time but soon the feeling of disgust withdraw to a small and distant part of his mind and then the was only the pleasure left.
Ray answered Frankie's kiss now, heightening his passion and desire. His subconscious seemed to have taken over, as he wished his hands to be free, so that he could touch Frankie in turn. By now Frankie's hands were travelling down Ray's writhing body. Frankie had pulled up Ray's sweater and whispered a curse when he found out that he couldn't pull it over Ray's head because of the bound arms. Then he started to massage Ray's chest and Ray felt his nipples get hard. He moaned into Frankie's mouth and then he pulled his head to the left. Both man gasped for air in unisono.
"Please, Frankie... Stop it. I don't..." Frankie shut Ray's mouth by covering it with his left hand, his right continuing the massage.
"You lie, Ray. You don't want me to stop. You still desire me... as much as I want you." He placed a light kiss on Ray's forehead and then he slid down until his mouth touched Ray's chest. He licked his skin and then he started to suck at Ray's right nipple. Ray yelped, but then started pleading again. "No, please, Frankie. Don't." The last word came nearly out as a scream as Frankie pinched the nipple.
Ray heard Frankie's soft laugh that seemed to come from a place far away. Then Frankie started licking again. Ray's already aching groins responded and his erection nearly became unbearable. "Frankie, now! I can't stand it any longer..."
Frankie fumbled for the button of the jeans and finally opened it. He pulled the zipper and then the jeans off and Ray's penis popped free, commented by a throaty moan from Ray. "Yes, I want to hear you, Ray. I want to feel you. Show me your greed, your greed for life and love..."
Ray lifted his head and watched Frankie opening and pulling of his pants, revealing his erected penis. Ray could just stare and breath unsteadily. He was too confused by now to know what he should do. Frankie will tell me. Just listen to Frankie.
"Turn over." With that Frankie knelt beside Ray and grabbed him by his right arm, then pulling him over so that he lay on his stomach. Ray turned his head to the right, resting a cheek on the carpet. He waited for Frankie to make the next move. "Spread your legs." That was simple and Ray followed Frankie's instructions. He closed his eyes, sighing, when he felt Frankie's fingers probing between his buttocks. First it was only one finger sliding into the hole, then a second. Ray hissed in pain as the third finger glided into him.
"Ray, try... try to relax. You... you do f... fine." Frankie's voice sounded husky and his breathing came fast. Slowly he pulled his fingers out and started caressing Ray's ass cheeks. Ray started moving and moaned as his cock rubbed against the carpet beneath him.
Frankie got behind Ray and pressed his erection against his ass. Slowly he guided his penis into the cleft and slid inside Ray. Ray arched up into a kneeling position and Frankie pushed forward. A few seconds they joined in a smooth rhythm of rocking. Frankie reached for Ray's erection and took the penis in his right hand. Slowly he started to pump and Ray let out a long throaty moan. Passion and heat built up between them. They continued to rock and pump in perfect harmony, finally reaching the peak almost at the same time. Ray felt Frankie cumming into him and then he screamed as his own semen splashed on the carpet. Exhausted he lowered his head - which he had thrown back when he had cried - back onto the floor. He closed his eyes and wished he would never have to open them again.
Night Four (28th of October)
Luxuria (Lust)
Half past eight. He had checked the clock for the fourth time in barely five minutes. Ray sighed. It shouldn't take him so long. Impatiently he jumped out of the bed, not bothering to put on the robe Frankie had supplied him with.
'Frankie.' Ray sighed audibly and he started to pace the nearly dark room. The little light came in from the streetlights from below the windows. Ray moved over to them and looked down on the street. The window was streaked with rain and the few people outside hurried, some carrying umbrellas.
'Not a good night to be outside.' He leaned his forehead against the cold glass and closed his eyes. 'Not a good night to be inside, either. Especially if you cannot leave if you want to.'
Although he had given Frankie his word that he wouldn't leave, Frankie had given him a smile that was distorted by the dark bruise that showed now in his face. "Ray, I can't possibly trust you, can I? And I can't let you go, not now." As Ray had asked why not Frankie had just shaken his head and left, locking the door from outside.
Not that Ray couldn't have fled if he really wanted to. That was what puzzled him most. What made him stay here. What had happened last night had been... humiliating? No, not quite so. It was more like an embarrassing revelation. Of his own feelings, his own emotions. Frankie and he had been close when the were still very young men. Very close. After the break-up Ray had divided his former friend as best as possible, denying all tender emotions that he knew had been in him all the time. When time had gone by he had started to believe what his mind had tried to convince him of. That Frankie was a heart- and soulless killer and criminal. And he - as a police officer - had committed himself to fight crime.
Yesterday's events had brought Ray back into his own past. Into this house, into Frankie's arms. Afterwards... yes, afterwards he had felt like shit. When Frankie had made him watch burning Mark's letter, he had felt like he had betrayed his lover. How could he have enjoyed Frankie taking him if he had really loved Mark?
Then Frankie had brought him into his bedroom and he hadn't loosened the rope before he had ordered Charlie to lock the door from the outside. They had slept in one bed, without making love. Ray still wondered why he hadn't killed Frankie right there and then. He couldn't explain his emotions but he had to accept that they existed. He had called the precinct this morning and excused his absence. Ray had had the impression that Welsh had sounded relieved when he had accepted his explanation of total exhaustion.
Passion and desire? Yes, without doubt. Love? Ray didn't dare to answer that. He refused to think about love. It wasn't possible. Mark was dead only two days and he thought about a relationship to the man who was responsible for his death. What about his oath to kill Frank Zuko? Didn't he have a bit of honour? It can't be love, it must be... lust. Yes, lust. That's it. And lust can be overcome. He just needed enough willpower. Ray snorted. 'Willpower. You sound like a woman's journal telling you, you could lose 20 pounds in two days by the sheer force of your mind. This is the reality. You couldn't resist him yesterday and now you're here, waiting for him to end his appointment, waiting for Frankie to come back to you.'
"I am sick," he said it aloud to convince himself of this truth. But all he could think of was the tenderness of Frankie's touches, the sweetness of his kisses and the fire of his thrusts. Ray sat down on the bed, closed his eyes again and remembered the hours he'd spent with Mark.
Where Frankie was demanding, Mark had been giving. As he had written in his letter to Ray he felt the greed that was in Ray and now Ray knew that Mark had fed that greed constantly. And now he hadn't even the possibility to tell Mark how much he had meant to him. The irony of the situation was telling. 'A fantastic way to show that you loved Mark and mourning for him.' A shiver ran down Ray's spine and he cuddled under the covers again.
He awoke with a start when Frankie lay a hand on his chest. His touch was warm and soft and after Ray had pulled back for the fraction of a second he now leaned back into the other man. Ray could feel Frankie's erection in his back and noticed only a second later his own arousal. Frankie placed his left leg over Ray's thigh and started kissing the back of Ray's neck.
Ray was still a little dozed from his sleep. "Frankie?"
"Yes, Ray," Frankie mumbled between two kisses.
"What time is it?" Ray had difficulties to keep his voice level. Then Frankie directed his attention to Ray's left earlobe and he moaned with pleasure.
Frankie just stopped for a heartbeat with his caresses as he looked at the alarm clock that stood on the nightstand on the other side of the bed. "It's a quarter past eleven."
"What? I nearly slept for three hours! What took you so long, Frankie?" Ray was wide awake now. He had spent the whole day in this room, doing nothing all the time. How could he have become so tired?
"None of your business, Ray. What is the fuss about anyway? I'm here now. And there is still time for everything you want me to do." Again Frankie kissed Ray's throat, then he started licking it.
Ray fought for control. 'This isn't love. This is lust. You can't betray Mark. You can't betray Mark.' All the time he knew he was belying himself, but he couldn't stop the litany he repeated silently over and over again. On the contrary, it helped him to concentrate on Frankie's closeness. His smell, his touch, his voice.
"Ray, what a waste it has been. All this time without you. Pretending to be a loving husband, a caring father, a devoted family man - without even the chance of being with the only man I ever desired. Of course there have been others. But I always smelt you, touched you, talked only to you." Frankie was kissing him with his voice and he took in every word with relish.
Once there had been a time when Ray would have given his life to hear those words from Frankie. But it surely was to late now, wasn't it? This couldn't possibly work out. It had to be a dream that would soon turn into a nightmare. Everything concerned with Frankie turned into a nightmare sooner or later. It had to be this way. If not, Ray had lived in a lie for nearly twenty years.
The dream didn't stop, though, and Ray drank in every detail of their love-making. Frankie made his way down Ray's back and let his tongue lead the way. After a few minutes Ray gave up his hesitation and let out moans and sighs that spurned on the other man's efforts. Finally the tongue reached Ray's lower back and it slid into the cleft between Ray's buttocks.
"Yes, Frankie... Don't stop now." Ray's voice was a mere whisper. He thought his heart would stop beating as he shuddered repeatedly under Frankie's tender caresses.
"Move around, Ray." Frankie didn't wait for Ray to follow his order, but turned him around himself. With his left hand he continued to massage Ray's ass cheeks while he started to lick Ray's fully erected cock. Ray gasped, gripping with his right hand into Frankie's hair. Then his grip relaxed again and he began stroking the damp mop of full, dark hair. When Frankie's tongue touched the tip of his cock he arched against him and Frankie welcomed his penis with his mouth wide open. He closed his mouth around it and started to suck. Ray responded by a rocking in a steady rhythm. It took him only a few seconds to come and he emptied himself into Frankie's mouth. The other man swallowed the cum and then let go of Ray's now depleted penis.
"Taste yourself," Frankie whispered and turned Ray onto his back, lowering himself upon him. Ray greeted the other man mouth with lips slightly parted. As Frankie's lips touched his own his tongue darted out and slid into Frankie's mouth. The scent and the taste made him dizzy and he drew in a deep breath as if he tried to capture every particle of himself that was to be found in Frankie's mouth.
It seemed to have been ages when Frankie finally pulled back. "Your turn, Ray." Ray wouldn't have needed the invitation. The taste and smell of his own semen had broken his last reservations. As Frankie lay on his back, he just slid down till he was on eye-level with Frankie's erection. Ray didn't have the patience to go slowly. He stretched out his tongue and teased the tip of the cock only once. Delighted by Frankie's yelp he took the whole of the penis into his mouth and started sucking immediately. Frankie pushed frantically against him, his moans and sighs coming in the same rhythm as his body's thrusts. When Ray tasted the precum he sucked involuntarily even harder, making Frankie cumming only seconds later. He swallowed all of it.
Ray released Frankie's cock, sated for now. He lay down on his back, his left arm touching Frankie's right. Both men's chest heaved up and down in harmony. Ray smiled as he tried to picture the two of them from above. They were so different. Both in outer appearance and in their characters. Friends had named the two of them 'The Bold and the Beautiful' and the two boys had spent hours discussing who was the bold and who the beautiful.
The detective was stunned how fast his hate and disgust for Frankie had crumpled. What was it with him? This could not be happening. He lay in Frank Zuko's bed and started thinking happy thoughts about the man he wanted to kill not 24 hours ago. He reached out for the light on the bedside table and switched it on.
"What now? Switch it off, for God's sake." Frankie's voice sounded irritated but Ray chose to ignore it. No need to start a fight. He had to get himself some answers and it wouldn't do if he challenged Frankie with another argument. He had to get out of this before he went insane.
"What do you plan, Frankie? Why am I still here?" As he had spoken the last words he felt the irony of this situation once more.
Frankie turned his back on him, pulling his blanket over his shoulder and grunted. "I like your company, Ray."
Before Ray had the chance to react to Frankie's repelling gesture shouts could be heard from behind the door. Both men sat up in the bed. "Mr. Zuko, it's Charlie. They found Nico."
Frankie was out of the bed in a flash. "I'm downstairs in a minute." Then he turned to Ray. "Get dressed. I think you might be interested." Ray had no idea what Frankie was talking about, but his curiosity won. And it was a chance to leave this room after nearly 24 hours.
***
The study again. Ray followed Frankie into the brightly illuminated room. Charlie was there, of course, and two more of Frankie's goons who held a third man, with his clothes torn and crumpled. His face was sweat-covered and smeared with blood and dirt. His short black hair glistened in the light. His head hang down on his chest.
"Nico. You're back. I was worried about you. About your state of mind." Ray's stomach clenched at the sound of Frankie's voice. He knew what to expect when Frankie sounded that way. The cheerier his tone the more annoyed and irritated was Frankie. "Look at me." There was no reaction from Nico. Frankie only nodded once and the man to Nico's right grabbed into Nico's hair and pulled back his head. Nico gasped in astonishment and pain.
"There. Why did you run away? You hit me. I have to know why. Please tell me, Nico. I want to understand you." Frankie let his voice drop and he crossed his arms before his chest. "I'm waiting," he added when he got no reply.
Nico blinked rapidly as more sweat trickled into his eyes. He swallowed hard and then brought out. "I thought you would kill me, Mr. Zuko. I know I made a mistake, but I didn't want to kill her. It was... an accident. She screamed so loud I wanted to make her stop..." He let his eyes drop, thus trying to escape Frankie's stare that belied the jovial tone of his voice.
"And stop her you did. Nico, Nico, Nico. What can I do now? You leave me no choice. My instructions were clear. I can't work with men who can't accept orders. I possibly cannot." Frankie shook his head and sighed. For a short moment Ray had the impression that his men would imitate the gesture and the sigh. He shifted uncomfortably. He knew the rules of Frankie's game good enough to know what would follow now.
Nico seemed to know it, too. He let out a wail. "But I came back. I brought you the letter. I came back..." His last words nearly ended in a scream.
"You are right, Nico. I owe you." Ray saw the spark of hope in the young man's eyes at Frankie's words. "That's why I thought about a special treatment for you." Frankie turned to Charlie and stretched out his right hand. Charlie put a hand into the inner pocket of his jacket and brought out a handkerchief. He placed it onto his boss's palm. "Thank you, Charlie. Ray?" Ray stepped forward and Frankie unfolded the white linen. "Do you recognise it?"
Ray gasped in shock. It was his own gun. "How... Where..." He broke off, panic and confusion making him unable to form a coherent thought.
"Minor details, Ray, not of any interest. You wanted to know what I plan. Nico here will be an important part in the next scene of our little game. He will make such a fine corpse. Killed with the gun of a police officer. What do you say, Nico? Isn't that a wonderful way to leave this world? You'll be serving me and my plans even after your death." At the same time as Nico started screaming, Ray hauled himself at Frankie Zuko. Both men went down on the floor. Ray tried to get back on his feet. But before he was on his knees a blow landed on the back of his head and his mind filled with blackness.
Night Five (29th of October)
Gula (Gluttony)
Note: The definition of gluttony given by Father Behan is a quote from the medieval theologian Thomas Aquin.
Ray relaxed with his back against the church door, breathing hard. Again he wondered if he should have taken the Riv after he had fled from Frankie's house. No, there hadn't been the time. It had been easier for him to disappear in the dark by fleeing on foot. He knew the neighbourhood by heart and it had been easy enough to leave his pursuers behind. He couldn't stay here long, though.
At the sound of a door at the other end of the church he held in his breath. The door closed again and steps could be heard. The next second light flared up and Ray blinked rapidly. As he had adjusted to the brightness he could see a man nearing him.
Father Behan. The priest of St. Michael's. „Raimondo." The man stopped and eyed Ray with astonishment. „What are you doing here?" Ray tried to smile at the priest, failing miserably. „Are you okay?" Father Behan's voice sounded concerned. Ray realised that he probably wasn't looking too good.
„No, I don't think so, Father." He brought up the gun that he had been holding in his right hand all the time since he had made his escape. He dried his sweaty left hand by rubbing it against his thigh. He took the gun into his left now and then dried the right hand. He transferred the weapon to the right hand again.
„What happened, Raimondo?"
„Not much, Father. I'm on the run." Ray smiled humourlessly at the priest's exasperated expression. „Long story. I haven't much time. But then... a confession would be appropriate." Ray had no idea where the urge to talk to the priest came from. All he knew was that he trusted the man with all his heart. And that Father Behan probably knew more about his relationship to Frankie than anyone else.
„Let's sit down, Raimondo. It's still an hour before mass will start." They moved over to the stalls and sat. Ray gazed at the gun in his hand. And then he began...
***
„When I came to about eleven in the morning, I was in Frankie's bed again. Frankie sat in an armchair and smiled at me. He told me that Nico had been taken care of by now. His men would dumb his corpse, get rid of my gun and return. He expected them any minute. I wondered what I could do and I found I didn't have a clue. His men returned, Frankie left the room, locking me in. I considered to flee through the window but decided against it. Somehow I still hoped it was all a trick Frankie played on me."
„But it wasn't?" It was the first time the priest interrupted Ray's story. Ray studied his expression. There was no sign of disbelief.
„No. He kept me waiting for several hours. It was already getting dark outside when he returned. I had dressed by now and was pacing the room. Frankie informed me that everything was prepared. An anonymous call had been made to the precinct. My colleagues knew by now where to find Nico, my gun and myself. Frankie grinned as he told me what a perfect motive I had for killing Nico. He was the murderer who killed my lover's sister and thereby caused Mark's death. He brought out a gun and forced me to leave the room. We were half down the stairs when I turned around, hauled myself at Frankie and grabbed the gun out of his hands. I knocked him down with it and ran out of the house. I still have no idea where Charlie or the other men were at that time. That saved me. I never would have escaped with all his goons around. The timing was exceptional. Just at the moment I left the house, two police cars stopped in front of it. I just ran. Now I'm here."
„They will come for you." The priest merely stated a fact.
Ray nodded. „I will leave soon. God, how did I get myself into this mess." He placed his elbows on the bench in front of him and buried his head in his hands, pressing the gun to the right side of it. It was not a comforting feeling.
„It's Frankie. It's like it was twenty years ago." Ray flinched slightly as Father Behan placed a hand on his back.
„What do you mean?" He lifted his head again and stared at the priest.
„Raimondo, it has always been like that. Remember how often you came to me. How often did you try to leave him, to end your... your... No, it wasn't friendship between you. It was an obsession. You hated yourself for every second you spent with him. Nonetheless it took you years to realise that he was destroying you." The priest placed his hand on the detective's short-cut hair. „Raimondo, you are still obsessed with him. After your lover was killed, there was a void in you and you filled it with Zuko again. You have to free yourself of him. Or you'll end up in a disaster."
„Or in hell. It's already too late, Father. They'll sentence me to life. I won't survive that." Ray's voice nearly broke as he spoke out his worst fears. „And I still cannot hate him. I still... I still... love him." He finally said it. Accepted the truth.
„You have to turn yourself in, Raimondo. This is the only possible way to end this.
„I can't. I'd rather die." Ray voice sounded harsh in his own ears.
„There is more at stake than your life, son." The priest spoke gently now, as if Ray was still a little boy.
„What? More than my life?"
„It's your soul. You have to free yourself from Frankie. By facing the consequences of your actions you can end your... relationship." Ray stared into the priest's dark eyes. He found serenity there. Father Behan meant every word he was saying.
„My soul?"
„Gluttony is a deadly sin."
This was more and more confusing. „Father, I have no idea what you are talking about."
"'Gluttony denotes, not any desire of eating and drinking, but an inordinate desire... leaving the order of reason, wherein the good of moral virtue consists.'" The priest looked at Ray. „You're relationship with Frankie has to end."
Ray jumped up, pacing up and down the church aisle. The priest was right. He had to end this. He had to get rid of this demon. Abruptly he stopped his pacing. „Father. I see you agree with me. Frankie is my problem. I'm gonna fix that." He smiled at the priest.
„How so?" Father Behan asked suspiciously. „Will you call your colleagues now?"
Ray brought the gun level with the priest's eyes. „No need for that. I'll deal with my problem personally. You won't stop me, Father. I think I could need a car. You drive." Father Behan stood and moved out of the stall.
„Raimondo, you wouldn't kill me." The priest slowly stepped back a few paces until he was distant enough to ignore the weapon and stare at the detective.
Ray admired his spirit. „But I would hurt you, if I must. As long as you follow my instructions both alternatives will be of no concern to us, don't you think?" Now that he had made his decision he felt totally relaxed. All would end soon. He had nothing to lose. And he could win so much. He would be free of Frank Zuko. Free of his past. Free to leave or to stay. „Get outside. And don't forget your keys."
***
Ray was out of the car in a flash just at the moment Father Behan stopped. He opened the driver's door and grabbed the priest at his left arm and nearly yanked him out of the vehicle. Without letting go of the priest's arm he hurried towards the Zuko house. He was stunned to see the car of his superior officer parked in front of it. Welsh was still with Frankie. That worsened his odds, but didn't diminish his determination.
Hoping that no one from inside had seen them, he stood with his back against the wall to the left side of the door and motioned with his gun in the direction of the doorbell. Father Behan nodded and pressed it. Inside Ray heard a melodious sound and Ray prepared for action. As the door opened he whirled around and pushed the priest violently inside and Father Behan stumbled forward. The priest tried to keep his balance, thereby grabbing at the man who had opened the door. Zuko's man lost his balance as well and Ray had no difficulty to knock him out with the barrel of his gun. He was glad that the thick carpet muffled the noise considerably.
Dinner time was well over and he would find Frankie in the study. For a second he hesitated what to do with Father Behan. „You come with me," he finally hissed. Ray knew he hadn't much time. If the guard didn't return there would be another one to check what was wrong.
With the priest in tow he moved down the hallway. He peeked around the corner and found the door closed, another guard in front of it. He turned to Father Behan. „Distract him or I have to shoot him." He saw the priest pondering his options.
„Let go off me, Raimondo," he said. Without thinking Ray released his grip.
Father Behan walked around the corner and called over to the guard. „Could you help me, son? I think your colleague at the door isn't feeling well." Ray grinned; the priest turned out to be a valuable asset in his plan.
The guard pulled out his gun and ran towards the priest. „What happened, Father?"
Before Father Behan could answer Ray moved around the corner and hit the man at his left temple. He sagged to the floor, unconscious. Ray didn't wait a second longer. He grabbed the priest again and moved to the door of the study. He knocked once.
„Yes?" came from the inside.
„A visitor, Mr. Zuko. It's the priest from St. Michael's."
„Bring him in."
Ray opened the door and pushed Father Behan inside. Frankie sat behind his desk and jumped up at the sudden intrusion. Ray stood in the doorway, his right arm raised and aimed the gun at Frankie. Out of the corner of his right eye he saw Charlie and another man reaching inside their jackets. „Don't even try." Ray's voice sounded casual, like he was commenting on the weather outside. Both men dropped dead. „Get all behind the desk, where I can see you properly." He nodded to the fourth man, standing to his left. „You too, Lieutenant."
When his instructions had been followed, he entered the study and closed the door behind him. He moved over to the right, so that he would be shielded when the door would open again. Ray settled his gaze on Frankie. „I found a solution for my problems. With the help of a priest. Father Behan made me realise what created my madness. I'm going to end this now. Perhaps you want to say a little prayer? Or make a last confession?"
„Ray, listen to me. This is just a misunderstanding. I never meant any harm. You are my friend. I love you as I would a brother." Once again Ray was astonished how convincingly Frankie could make up the most outrageous lies.
Irritated, he repeated, „Misunderstanding? You set me up. You destroyed my life. As you did with Catriona's and Mark's. People are nothing to you. This has to stop." He tried to keep calm.
„Ray, Zuko is right. This is a misunderstanding. He just exonerated you." Ray jerked his head to face his superior officer. Welsh met his gaze levelly.
„What?" Ray couldn't believe what he had just heard. This must be a trick. To make him surrender.
„You are about to shoot the man who's giving you an alibi." Ray stared at the Lieutenant. He hadn't the impression that Welsh was lying to him. As far as he knew he had never lied to him.
„Ray, I just told the Lieutenant that you spent last night in this house. Would you please tell me what made you run away in the first place?" Frankie stared at him, folding his arms over his chest. His voice sounded like that of a father lecturing his disobedient son.
Ray retreated back, until he touched the wall behind him. He concentrated on holding the gun; his hands had started shaking. „No, Frankie, don't do this to me. Not again. Stop playing with me." He saw Frankie's face go white, his dark eyes large and fixed on Ray's trembling hands.
Welsh moved and Ray turned his head slightly to observe his actions. His superior officer walked past the desk and came over to him, his right hand outstretched. „Ray, you can trust him this time. We have his testimony. You are free to go." Ray had never heard the Lieutenant's voice so gentle before. It was unfamiliar, but he liked it.
Ray blinked as sweat from his forehead trickled into his eyes. He resisted the urge to wipe it away and stared hardly at the still approaching man. „Don't you move any further. I..."
The door of the study flew open. Ray jumped to the right, just in time before he would have hit by it. Charlie and the guard pulled out their guns and took aim. Simultaneously Welsh jumped at Ray and the detective's shot went wild. He gasped in shock as he felt as a searing heat shot through his right shoulder and arm and Ray let go of his gun. Both he and the Lieutenant went down hard. The fall knocked the breath out of Ray.
He closed his eyes, blinking away unwanted tears. His shoulder burnt like fire. Welsh lay still half on top of his left side. Ray struggled to get free. When the weight was lifted away, he forced his eyes open. Welsh stood before him, breathing heavily and shaking his head. „Call an ambulance." He didn't even turn his head to check if his orders were followed. Ray could just lay there and stare at his superior officer. He heard the calm voice of Charlie as he spoke into the phone.
„Ray, are you okay?" Frankie shoved the Lieutenant aside and settled down at Ray's left side. Ray was stunned to see concern in Frankie's eyes. This had to be another nightmare. „Madonna mia, you're hit." Frankie pulled out a brilliant white handkerchief and pressed it to the bleeding wound.
The detective winced, then let out hissing sigh. „Be careful with me, willya Frankie? That hurts," he nearly yelled.
Frankie just smiled at him. „You'll survive. I will take care of that personally." Ray stared at him incredulously. This would never stop. The worst part was that he didn't want it to stop.
Night Six (30th of October)
Superbia (Pride)
Just in time before the doctor entered his room Ray finally managed to keep the shivering under control. He straightened as the short man addressed him rather harshly. "Detective, I still recommend to stay here for some days."
Ray answered the doctor's worried look with a level gaze. "It's just a graze, Doctor Coolidge. You said so yourself. I am fit enough to leave."
"You lost a lot of blood, Detective, and in no state to be on your own."
"Get serious, Doc. You have met my family." Ray chuckled. "Knowing my mother she'll be preparing for battle right now. Heating my bedroom, fetching additional blankets, cooking tons of my favourite food, sending my sister's family on vacation - preferably to the other side of the galaxy - so that I can get my beauty sleep..."
The other man doctor waved a hand in submission. "Okay, I get the picture. I'll send a nurse with the papers you'll have to sign. Then you are free to go."
Ray stretched out his left hand. His right arm was firmly secured in a sling. "Thanks, Doc, for fixing me up. What about that?" He lifted his right arm only a fraction.
The doctor squeezed the offered hand firmly. "We have to check the wound in a few days. Come back here on... yes, on Tuesday. Up till then you should go easy on that arm."
"What? No trick or treating this year? I promised my nephew we'd go together. You can't disappoint a little boy's heart, Doc." Ray stared at the doctor in mock panic. "I was going to ask my sister to make a special costume for the man without one arm."
"Now, which little boy are you talking about right now, Detective? I'll see you on Tuesday. Good evening, Detective Vecchio." He gave Ray a smile, then left.
As soon as the door closed Ray shuddered again. He was still chilled to his bones. Hopefully Frannie will bring with her some warm clothes. He suppressed a yawn and checked the watch. It has been almost an hour. She should have been here by now.
Another shudder. With a sigh he brought the blanket up to his chin. He glanced over to the chair the nurse had placed the bag with his clothes. There was no way he could still wear those. He hadn't changed them for almost two days. And they were full of bloodstains right now. Ray closed his eyes. Yes, Frankie hadn't entirely been able to stop the flow of blood. The memory sent a shiver down Ray's spine. Not because of the cold.
The pain had fast subsided to a throbbing in his shoulder. Or in his upper arm. Ray hadn't been sure about the exact location of his injury. As the pain decreased he'd become aware of his surroundings again. Well, at least some of his surroundings.
Frankie's face. Pale. His eyes staring at him, dark, but somehow burning. Another man's voice. Welsh. "Let me have a look at him."
And Frankie's yell. "No. Get out. All of you. Out." Then his eyes again, blinking away tears now. Ray's cheeks flushed now at the memory. All he had been able to do had been staring. Staring in wonder and amazement. Marvelling at the firm press on the wound while Frankie's other hand had caressed his damp cheek. Stunned by Frankie's voice that had transformed in a second from a yell into a soft whisper. "Ray, I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." Ray hadn't dared to make a sound, fearing he could awake from that wonderful dream...
He had been with him all the way to the hospital. They wouldn't let him accompany him into ER, blocking his way. "Don't you worry, Ray, I'll be here waiting..." But after the treatment he had been gone. The nurse hadn't been able to answer Ray's questions. She had told him to relax. He had fallen asleep almost immediately.
When he'd awaken the nurse informed him that his family had been there and sent away again. Ray had spoken to the doctor and told him he would go home. Then he had called home. Francesca had nearly screamed when she had heard his voice. She'd promised to be at the hospital in no time.
Ray snorted to himself. Probably his little sister was still wondering what to wear and if she'd see her hairdresser before she would come for him. A hospital wasn't a hospital in his sister's eyes. It was a haven for young, and handsome men just waiting to be conquered by a gorgeous woman.
A short knock brought him out of his musings. "It's about time. Come in, Frannie." The door opened and Welsh stood in the doorway. "Geez, Lieu, I'm sorry. I thought it would be my sister."
Welsh nodded and closed the door behind him. "Thought as much. How are you feeling, Vecchio?"
"Not too bad considering the circumstances, Lieu." Ray shrugged. "I'm leaving any minute now. How are things at the precinct?"
"You mean your case." Without waiting for Ray's confirmation Welsh went on. "Zuko turned up this morning, his lawyer in tow. He made his testimony, giving you an alibi for the night Nico Antonelli was killed. There won't be any charge against you from him. Neither from the priest, Father Behan. He testified just an hour ago."
"Nico Antonelli... did he murder Mark's sister?"
"We have positive evidence of this."
"Any clue who killed him?"
"Nothing. Zuko denies any connection to the crimes. And I think his lawyer is doing his best right now to prove that we have no case against Frank Zuko." Ray couldn't hold Welsh's gaze any longer and cast his eyes down. He knew what would come now.
"Ray, I need to know what really happened. Why did you threaten Frank Zuko?" Welsh moved over to Ray's bed, grabbed an empty chair and sat down on it.
"I thought he set me up. When he told me you were coming for me... I think I just panicked and ran. Then I wanted to force him to tell the truth..." Still, Ray couldn't lift his head.
"And you want me to believe that? Well, it looked like a set up for me, too. Until Zuko gave you an alibi."
"Yes, Lieu, until he gave me the alibi." Ray looked up. He hoped that his face gave nothing away.
Welsh opened his mouth for another question when Frannie stormed into the room, not bothering to knock. "Sorry, Ray, I ran out of gas and took me half an hour... Oh, excuse me, Lieutenant, I didn't want to interrupt." She ran her left hand through her dishevelled dark hair.
"You already did, Frannie," Ray said impatiently. Before he could go on Welsh stood from his chair and silenced him with a gesture of his right hand.
"Don't you worry, Ms. Vecchio. I was leaving anyway. Detective, I need your report..."
"ASAP, yes, Lieu. I'll come to the precinct tomorrow." Ray tried not to show his relief.
"That reminds me. Markus O'Reilly's parents have arranged the funeral for their children. It's scheduled for tomorrow morning. Here are the details. I thought you'd might be interested." Welsh reached into his coat pocket and fished out a note. He handed it to Ray who read over it.
"Will it be okay if I come to the precinct in the afternoon? I would like to... to..." Ray broke off.
His superior officer nodded understanding. "Tomorrow afternoon would be perfect. Detective, Ms. Vecchio."
Ray waited until Welsh had left and closed the door. Then he turned to Francesca. "Frannie, have you brought my clothes?"
"Thank you, Ray, I am fine. And yes, that is a new skirt. A truly nice welcome! I don't know why I am bothering myself with..." Francesca shot him a furious look as he interrupted her.
"Snap out of it Frannie. I have no mind for that now. Just give me my stuff and get out of here."
Francesca grimaced and eyed the bag she held in her right for a few seconds. Ray had the impression that she would have thrown it at his head if he hadn't been injured. So she just came over and handed it to him. "Does it hurt much?"
Ray knew that was meant as an offer of truce and he accepted it gladly. "I think the painkillers they gave me are still effective. Don't worry, Frannie, I'm fine. Ready to go home."
"The sooner we get there the better. Mama is already... You know her, Ray. It was hard enough to make her leave your side. She was so relieved to learn that you will be all right..." Frannie reached over to touch Ray's left hand. Involuntarily Ray let go of the bag he was still holding, took her hand and squeezed it once.
"Thanks, Frannie." He paused for a moment, then grinned at his sister. "And could you leave now. Give this man a little privacy." Frannie pulled her hand out of his grip.
"You sure you won't need any help with that arm of yours?"
"I will take care of this." Startled, Ray stared at the doorway. Frankie. He didn't even hear him enter.
"Frankie Zuko! What are you doing here?" As she got no answer she turned her gaze to Ray.
"Frannie, could you leave us alone?" Ray's voice sounded a little shaky in his own ears.
"With him? No way..." She stemmed her hand on her hips.
Ray coughed once. "Please, Frannie. I will do fine." He locked eyes with his sister. Finally she nodded.
"Whatever you want, Ray Vecchio. At least we're already at the hospital. That will spare you the ambulance." She shot Ray a furious glare and then she almost ran out of room, nearly knocking Frankie over. Ray let out an audible sigh.
"She hasn't changed a bit." Frankie smiled at him.
"I'm glad she hasn't. I wouldn't have her any different." Ray had no intention to return the smile. "She has a talent to ask the right questions at the right time. What are you doing here?"
From: Birgitt Schuknecht
„I help you dress." He took the bag from the bad and pulled out Ray's clothes. „Come on, Ray, no need to be shy with me." Frankie grinned at him, but Ray shook his head.
„I'd rather do this alone, Frankie. You can leave me alone." What he had intended to become an order turned out like a weak suggestion. Frankie just ignored it, unfolding Ray's underwear. Ray sighed again and gave in. He pushed back the blanket and sat on the edge of the bed. Frankie opened the hospital shirt and helped Ray out of it. He just tossed it to the floor. He gave Ray a hand with the shorts and the pants. Then he knelt in front of Ray pulled the socks on his feet. Ray stood and slipped into his shoes.
„Do you just want it around your shoulders or..." Frankie looked at the silk shirt he was holding.
Ray thought for a moment. „I think it's okay to let go of the sling for a moment. Then I can put it on..." He hesitated and then continued, „if you give me hand with it."
Frankie's head jerked up and the man stared at the detective. Ray could see a glint of amusement flicker in those eyes. Before he could say anything Frankie throw the shirt on the bed and put his hands and Ray's hips, pulling him close. „I will give you anything you want, Ray." Frankie's lips were on Ray's a moment later. Without thinking Ray opened his mouth and he welcomed Frankie's tongue that darted forward with a deep moan of pleasure.
All chilliness left him in the wake of that searing kiss. Ray tried to entwine Frankie's tongue with his own but the other man tried to evade him. It was like a chase, Frankie's tongue exploring the depth of Ray's mouth and Ray's tongue trying to block it's attacks. Finally Ray had to pull back and he sat down breathlessly on the bed.
„How... How was that for a st... start?" Frankie looked at Ray intently, breathing hard.
„W..well, you took me by surprise, Frankie. Expect... expect my revenge." Ray winced at his own words. „What are you doing here, Frankie?" The spell was broken and Ray fought back his way to reality.
„As I said, I help you dress." He pulled the sling over Ray's head, steadying his arm by holding his right hand in a firm grip. With his free hand he grabbed for the shirt. He helped Ray to get his arm through the right sleeve. He held it up so that Ray could slip in his other arm. Frankie knelt down again and closed the buttons. All the time Ray could just sit and stare.
„Stand up, Ray." Ray rose like he was on autopilot and Frankie opened his pants once more, tuck the shirt in and closed them again.
Ray looked up and searched for Frankie's eyes. „Thanks. Frankie, what are you doing here?"
The other man didn't even try to avoid Ray's gaze. „I am here to bring you home."
„Home?" Ray repeated tonelessly. „Frannie's here, you don't have to go all the pains..."
Frankie stopped him with another kiss, this time on his right cheek. „Not your house, stupid. Mine."
Ray had expected this answer. Nonetheless, it hit him like a blow. „No, Frankie. I can't. My mother..."
„You can talk to her later. For now you have to be with me." Another kiss on the other cheek. „I need you, Ray. And I know you want to be with me. Your eyes... When Charlie shot you last night I thought I would die. But then I saw it in your eyes. That you still feel the same. After all those years."
„No, Frankie. I was in pain. I had lost blood. I do not need you. I cannot love you..." This time Frankie kissed his mouth again, but it was just a chaste kiss. Ray could have screamed in frustration as Frankie pulled back only a moment later.
Frankie's expression was serious. „This isn't the place to discuss those matters. You come with me. We have to talk. Give me one night, Ray. You can go after we talked, okay? Just one night, Ray, and I will let you go if you still want to."
Ray feared just that. That he wouldn't want to go.
„Since when are you a coward, Ray Vecchio?" Frankie's voice had taken on a teasing tone.
Ray shook his head. „No need to challenge me, Frankie. I give you one night." And this time there was no frustration in the kiss they shared.
***
Dinner had been spectacular. And to his own astonishment he hadn't been in the least embarrassed that Frankie had insisted on feeding him. They had been alone. Charlie had brought several trays, laden with various delicacies. The two men had settled down on the large bed and Ray had been fed with small bites of antipasti and sweet kisses. They had shared a portion of pasta and when tomato sauce had trickled down Ray's chin Frankie had been there with his adept tongue to lick it away before it could drop down on his shirt.
With an effort they'd returned their attention to the food and the delicious red wine. When they'd been finally sated, Ray had watched Frankie clear away the dishes, placing the trays on a broad sideboard. Frankie had settled himself beside him again.
They lay there in silence for several minutes. Ray tried to move into a more comfortable position, involuntarily trying to use his right arm. As he hissed in sudden pain, Frankie sat up in alarm. „Careful, Ray. Do you want the painkiller now?" The packet, the nurse had supplied them with, lay on the bedside table.
„No, it was nothing, Frankie." Ray waited until Frankie had settled back on the sheets. He then moved over to him, laying his head on Frankie's right shoulder. The other man placed his right arm under Ray's neck, careful not to touch the wounded shoulder. He placed a tender kiss on Ray's head.
Ray let out a contented sigh and closed his eyes. Just for a few moments before he would ask Frankie. He listened to Frankie's heartbeat, beating in a constant and calming rhythm. If he could turn back time. Not much. Say, only twenty years. It was too late now. Too late to make a dream come true.
Frankie had started stroking his head. Suddenly he changed his position, without moving his left arm, until his face was level with Ray's. Ray didn't wait for Frankie to take action. He placed a feather-light kiss on the other man's lips that parted immediately in response. Ray pulled back, teasing, challenging. With his free hand Frankie grabbed his chin tightly and kissed him. Hard. Setting his entire body on fire. Frankie's tongue danced in his mouth and it was like he ignited small fires of passion and desire.
Ray moaned and Frankie let go of his chin. His left hand fumbled for Ray's shirt buttons and deftly opened them. Frankie's hand wandered over Ray's chest, caressing first, then messaging. As he touched Ray's hardening nipples Ray gasped and pulled back from their seemingly endless kiss. Thus freed Frankie's mouth searched and found a new target. When he started sucking Ray's left nipple the detective arched up. Ray felt a hot burning in his groins now and with his left hand he tried to open his pants, to free his growing erection.
Frankie came to help and finally Ray's penis popped out. Frankie took it in his left hand and started stroking it. Ray started pushing into his hand. Frankie was pumping fast now and Ray cried out as he finally came. Semen shot out, splashing over the two men's bodies.
„You... too, Frankie." Ray managed to get out. Frankie let go off Ray's now depleted shaft and opened his own pants. „Get them off." Frankie did as he was ordered. Ray sat up and settled himself between Frankie's legs. With his left hand he caressed Frankie's right thigh. Frankie arched under his touch, moaning in pure delight at the gentle contact. His penis was fully erect now and Ray bent down - only supported by his left hand - in a fluid movement to capture it in his mouth.
„Yes, Ray." Frankie lifted himself into a half-sitting position, taking Ray's head into his hands. Ray sucked Frankie's shaft in a slow rhythm and Frankie started thrusting. It wasn't long before their movements met in perfect harmony. Just a second before he started cumming, Frankie cried out Ray's name and it was like a warning. Ray swallowed Frankie's semen and closed his eyes in satisfaction. Then he let go of Frankie's shaft and settled back on his heels. Frankie sat up fully, breathing hard.
„Give... m...me back so...some," he uttered. Ray cupped Frankie's cheek with his left hand and kissed him thoroughly. The shared delight seemed to intensify his own emotions and a blinding white light filled his mind. Ray broke free as he feared that he could faint. He lay down on his back again and tried to regain some control over his breath. Frankie settled beside him, snuggling against his body. Frankie felt warm and soft and the physical contact gave Ray the feeling of security. He closed his eyes, his breathing becoming calmer with every heartbeat.
Ray couldn't tell how much time had passed when Frankie finally spoke up. „Can't you see that we belong together, Ray? This is heaven. I want you to stay with me." Ray didn't open his eyes. He knew he had come to the point where he couldn't avoid making a decision, but as long as his eyes were closed... He knew it was just an illusion but it was such a sweet dream that he didn't want it to end.
„I need an answer," Frankie continued. Ray wasn't sure, but he thought he could hear his voice tremble a little. This wasn't hard for him alone. He opened his eyes and sat up, supporting himself on his left arm.
„Why, Frankie? Why Mark? Why Nico Antonelli? I was ready to kill you." Ray knew that was the truth as he said it aloud. Only a day ago he had been prepared to send Frankie Zuko - and probably himself - to hell.
„I love you, Ray. I needed you to come back to me."
Ray stared incredulously in Frankie's dark eyes. „By setting me up?"
The other man nodded slowly. „It's your damn pride, Vecchio. I had to break your spirit. You would never have come back on equal terms. All my life you let me know that you felt superior to me. I couldn't threaten you. Your pride kept you from accepting the truth. That you love me. That you need me."
Ray settled on his back again, staring at the ceiling. He started to say something several times and each time he didn't knew how to say it. Finally he sat up, still staring ahead. „You say, you love me, Frankie." The other man only nodded. „You are a liar, Frank Zuko. You cannot possibly love me. Not if you are prepared to destroy me."
„I didn't...." Frankie broke of as Ray let out a loud yell. The detective pulled the sling over his head and tossed it away. Pain seared through his shoulder, but Ray just ignored it. He grabbed Frankie by his shoulders.
„You didn't? You did, Frankie! You humiliated me, you broke my spirit. You took my pride from me. You destroyed the man you pretend to love. What's going to happen next? What are you going to take from me next? My loyalty for my family? My job? Yes, of course... A cop couldn't possibly be a mobster's lover. Don't you see what you're doing, Frankie. You try to strip me bare of all the things that make me. And by that you kill the man you want to conquer."
Frankie stared at Ray open-mouthed. Ray watched as the other took in what he had just said. Yes, Frankie understood now. He had got the answer he wanted. And Ray had got his. He let go off Frankie and buttoned his shirt and pulled up his pants, buttoned and buckled them. Without another word he got out of the bed, slipped into his shoes. He moved over to the chair where he had placed his coat. He hesitated shortly and stared at the stains on his shirt. Shaking his head he pulled on the coat, buttoning it.
As Ray reached the door he turned back once more. „I never felt superior to you, Frankie. Not now, not then. Especially not then." He ignored the pain in his shoulder and in his heart as he opened the door and left. He started to run and only stopped when he was at the front door. He opened it and was out of Frankie's house. Out of his life. He shut the door with a loud thud and went on to the pavement. Ray fished the keys for the Riv out of his coat pocket. It was only two hours ago that Frankie had given them to him. Ray turned and looked up at the windows of Frankie's room. The light that streamed through them was like a promise of warmth and happiness. A promise that would never be fulfilled for him.
Night Seven (31th of October)
Acedia (Sloth)
Ray looked outside. It was getting dark by now. He hoped he would be home in time to spend the rest of the day with Michael. The boy would never forgive him if he missed the trick or treating.
„Vecchio! Did you even hear my last question?" The voice of his superior officer sounded clearly impatient.
„What? Oh, sorry, Lieu, I... I..." He stopped in embarrassment. He hadn't heard anything of what Welsh had said.
„I wanted to know if there's anything you want to add to your report." As always Ray was astonished at the Lieutenant's ability to sound so angry while speaking so calmly.
„No, that was all." Ray straightened in his chair. Half an hour ago he had returned to Chicago, after he had attended the funeral of his lover and his lover's sister. What had seemed a good idea this morning had turned out to be another disaster.
„Detective, try to concentrate on the matters at hand, for God's sake. You're not the only one who wants to be home on time for the Halloween party." Welsh let out a sigh of exasperation, shaking his head.
„I'm sorry, Sir, I wasn't thinking about Halloween. Well, to be honest I did but..." Welsh raised a hand and stopped him from going on.
„Enough of that, Vecchio. I have a question or rather a comment to what you just told me. Are you aware of the fact that your story of what happened in the last two days doesn't show you in a particular bright light?" Ray stared at Welsh blankly. „I mean, an alibi given by a mobster saved your neck. Just think about it. I bet IA won't be too thrilled by this."
Ray had feared as much. He would have to answer some nasty questions in the near future. But there was no evidence to prove his report wrong. Only his own knowledge...
„And let me add something. I personally do not believe one word of what you have told me." The lieutenant stared hard at him and Ray could barely keep his calm. „I fear I cannot trust you as much as I should, Vecchio. And I think it will be a long time before you can prove me wrong. I assigned you to a special assortment of cases. Miss Besbriss will have put the files on your desk by now. Dismissed."
At the last word Ray nearly jumped. This was worse than he'd expected. Since he had left Frankie last night his life seemed to disintegrate into tiny pieces. When he had returned home last night he had avoided his mother who had still been up. He had just gone into his room and locked the door. He had ignored her knocks and questions. He had not had the strength to talk to her or to look into her eyes or to endure her embrace. So he had ignored her.
At the funeral Ray had kept himself distant from the other mourners. Other mourners. Ray had discovered he still hadn't been able to mourn his dead lover. There hadn't been any tears. After all others had left he had moved over to the graves and had stared down at the many wreaths and bunches of flowers. He had marvelled at the intensity and brightness of the colours. He had been certain that nothing could have any other colour than gray or black on this chilly October day. He had tried to say a little prayer, tried to remember what he had learned to be an appropriate farewell. Words hadn't come and so he had just stood there until he had started to shiver from the cold and his right shoulder had started to throb rather painfully.
When he had arrived at the precinct there had been stares, but no comments. At least not when he had been looking. But he had been sure to have heard whispers as soon as he had turned his back. Without acknowledging Elaine's attempt of a greeting he had moved over to Welsh's office.
Ray had expected... Well, he didn't know what he had expected from the Lieutenant. But it was sure it wasn't this open display of mistrust. There was nothing he could do about it, though. He could just leave. „Sir!"
When he opened the door Welsh said, „Vecchio!"
Ray looked back over his shoulder. At the stern look Welsh gave him he turned around fully. „Lieutenant?"
„I need a written report ASAP."
„Understood, Sir." Ray fled out of the office, closing the door rather loud. He made his way over to his desk. There lay a pile of files. He took the first one in his hand and leafed through it. He took the next and repeated his inspection. After he had browsed the third he sat down on his chair and hid his face in his hands. Tedious work, with no promising outcome. Burglaries mostly. Lists of stolen goods to be checked, interrogation of victims and possible witnesses.
A soft voice brought him out of his brooding. „Welsh wants an update on those on a regular basis. A weekly update that is. Written." Elaine lay a hand on Ray's shoulder and Ray blinked up at her. „I'm sorry, Ray."
„Yes, we all are. Thank you ever so kindly." Ray was stunned at her shocked expression. Those words had come out harder than he had intended. Before he could apologise Elaine had turned and went to her own desk. She never looked back.
'Damn.' For a second he wondered if he should follow her. Then he shrugged and turned to his files once more. He counted them. Fourteen. He tossed them into his inbox, disgusted. Right at the moment he couldn't care less. For his job. His family. His life. Fourteen unsolved cases. As far as Ray Vecchio was concerned it could as well have been forty-one. What was the difference? The next moment the door to the squadroom flew open and a white-furred figure jumped in, howling like a wolf.
'Yeah,' Ray thought. 'A Happy Halloween to you, too."
End of Night Seven
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