THE BENTON'S CROWN AFFAIR   All pre-existing characters are the property
of the creators and producers of "Due South." No copyright infringement is
intended. All new characters and situations are the sole property and
responsibility of the author. This story contains no offensive material of
any kind, except for the phrase "stuff it." Just keep that in mind ... ;> 
THE BENTON'S CROWN AFFAIRby Katrina Bowen "No!" Ben went rigid in his
chair. He grabbed Ray's hands and forced them down and away. Trying to
remain calm, but still with an edge of panic in his voice, he said, "Ray,
let's think about this ..." Diefenbaker, laying in the corner, whined
sympathetically but didn't try to intervene. Ray sighed patiently and put
his hands on Ben's shoulders. "Look, Benny. We've been over this a hundred
times, and this is the way it's going to be." He paused. "You trust me,
right?" Ben hesitated, then nodded. "And you know I'd never do anything to
hurt you." He raised one hand again, gently tilting Ben's chin up. Ben
closed his eyes, and nodded again. "All right. But please be quick." "You
know I will. Just open up." Ray leaned down and looked carefully in Ben's
mouth. Satisfied, he straightened and said, "Yep. Looks like an infected
molar to me. Who's your dentist?" "I'm sure it's just temporary, Ray. The
swelling will probably go down in a day or two -- or if it doesn't, my
grandmother had some excellent recipes for poultices. I'm sure one of them
would work ..." Ray kept his temper with an effort; he'd been watching
Ben's jaw swelling for the past two days, and he knew how much it had to
be hurting the Mountie. "Fraser, it's nothing to be ashamed of. You
probably just cracked a tooth when that blind exterminator hit you last
week, and it got infected. These things happen to the best of us -- yes,
they even happen to you." "I'm sorry, Ray. It's just that there weren't
many dentists up in the Territories, and it's something I don't have a lot
of experience with." Uncertainly, he added, "Do you think they'll use a
drill?" "Yeah, most likely. In fact, there's a good chance you're going to
need a root canal." Ben went pale. "A root canal?" "Look, it's really not
that much worse than having a cavity filled." Ray looked at Ben, finally
comprehending. "Have you ever *had* a cavity filled?" Ben just shook his
head mournfully. "Come on." Ray took Ben's elbow and pulled him to his
feet. "I'll take you to my dentist -- she can probably fit you in as an
emergency." He handed Ben his jacket; the Mountie took it reluctantly.
Dief got to his feet and followed them out of the apartment. As Ray pulled
the door closed behind him, he said, "And if you're very good, you get to
pick a toy out of the wishing well." "That's not the least bit funny,
Ray." "Wanna bet?"
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****** About two hours later, they came back to the apartment. "Well, look
at it this way, Benny. You were lucky -- all you needed was a crown. You
*could* have needed a root canal." Ben just mumbled something indistinct,
dropped his jacket next to a chair and collapsed onto his bed. Dief made
himself comfortable on the floor beside him. Grinning, Ray went to the
kitchen and got a glass of water. Coming back, he handed the glass to Ben
and said, "Okay. Dr. Healy said she wanted you to take the antibiotics for
a week, but you only have to use the painkiller until your jaw stops
hurting." He picked up the jacket and took the two pill bottles out of the
pocket. He gave Ben one pill from each. "Here. Bottoms up." Ben levered
himself to one elbow; he swallowed the pills without speaking. With a
groan he fell back against the pillow. Concentrating, he finally made his
novocaine-numbed lips form a sentence. "Is it always that bad?" "Nah. You
get used to it after a while." Ben groaned again. "I've got to get going,
Benny. I'll leave my cell phone here -- you need anything, you call me,
okay?" He got a groggy nod of agreement. "Just stay put until the
painkiller wears off -- you'll feel better in a couple of hours. I'll
spread the word to your neighbors, so if you can't get in touch with me,
ask one of them. About time they started repaying some favors." Ben just
waved a hand in farewell. Ray left the apartment, smiling to himself. He
hated to admit it, but it was kind of nice to finally see Ben come up
against something he couldn't deal with on his own.
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****** Ben slept for several hours. When he woke up his jaw was still
sore, but the swelling had started to go down. He carefully sat up; he was
still a little groggy, but most of the painkiller had worn off. Dief sat
to attention as Ben cautiously got to his feet. Pleased that he didn't
wobble, he looked at his watch and went to the kitchen to take another
antibiotic. Coming back to the bedroom, he picked up Ray's phone and
punched in his number. He walked to the window and gazed down at the
street as he waited for his friend to pick up. "Hello, Ray. Yes, I'm
feeling much better... Well, I'd rather not take any more pills than I
have to -- yes, Ray, I know the dentist gave them to me because she wanted
me to take them. But you know that the body produces its own painkillers
-- Endorphins... No, really, that's what they're called. I am *not* making
it up. No, I don't think Dr. Healy gave me the prescription for no good
reason, but --" Ben broke off as something on the street caught his
attention. "Could you hold on a moment, Ray?" He ignored the angry
squawking as he placed the phone on the shelf by the window. A man and a
woman were arguing on the corner below. The argument appeared to be
becoming more and more heated, with both of them waving their arms
furiously. Even through the closed window, Ben could hear their raised
voices, though not the words themselves. Suddenly, the woman turned and
started to run away from the man ... right in the path of a car careening
down the street. Stunned, Ben looked down at the crumpled body, already
surrounded by a small crowd. The car kept on going. Instinctively, Ben
raised the window and put one leg over the sill. Just as instinctively,
Diefenbaker took a firm hold of the back of his shirt and growled a threat
deep in his throat. Ben looked down at the glaring wolf, and back to the
street below; he sadly realized that there was nothing he could do for the
woman that wasn't already being done. He slowly pulled himself back in and
picked up the phone. "Ray? Yes, Ray. I'm very sorry. But I have to report
a hit and run right outside my apartment ... No, Ray. I'm afraid I don't
know why these things always happen to me."
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****** It didn't take long for Ben and the other witnesses to give their
report to the officer on the scene; to all appearances, it was a
straight-forward hit and run. The woman's grief-stricken husband, Charles
Trygsted, had been taken home in a cab, loudly swearing that if he had
only known ... Ben was still outside when the Riv pulled up to the curb in
front of him. Ray got out and joined Ben sitting on the front steps of the
apartment building. "So how ya feeling? Your jaw looks smaller." "Thank
you, Ray." He reached up and absently rubbed at the shrinking lump. The
two stared at the street for several minutes. Finally Ray said, "Let's
save ourselves some time. You don't think it was an accident. I'm going to
try to convince you that it was. You're not going to listen to me, and
we're going to end up doing something stupid and heroic -- which I'm
starting to believe is the same thing." "That's about the size of it, Ray.
Although I can't really agree with you about the nature of heroism --"
"Stuff it, Benny. Are you sure you weren't still whacked from the
painkiller?" "Quite sure. Judging from the dosage and the elapsed time
from when I took the last pill --" Ray broke in, giving in to the
inevitable. "Okay, okay. So why don't you think it was an accident?" "I'm
not really sure." Ray's shoulders sagged "If you want me to listen to
this, Benny, you're going to have to make me some coffee first." Several
minutes later, sitting at the kitchen table, Ben continued. "It struck me
as odd that Mr. Trygsted would keep on looking at the street. After all,
if two people are having a heated argument, oncoming traffic wouldn't be
uppermost in their minds." "Unless they were in a car at the time." "Yes,
but that wasn't the case here." Ben went on eagerly, "And after she ran
into the street, Mr. Trygsted never looked at his wife until *after* she
was hit. He called out to her -- probably telling her to stop -- but well
after he'd seen the approaching car." Ben stopped himself and frowned.
"Just for a moment, though, he seemed truly surprised. And for a few
seconds after his wife was hit, he kept on looking down the street ... as
if he was still looking for something." "Come on, Benny. Maybe he *was*
just stunned." Ray got up and poured himself another cup of coffee. "Do
you have any idea what they would have been arguing about?" "I'm afraid
not. I couldn't hear their voices through the glass." "Maybe you should
have asked Dief to look out the window. He could have read their lips and
told us what it was about." "I'll try to remember that for the next time
the situation arises, Ray." "Good. Cause knowing you, it probably will."
Ray sighed. "Okay. I'll go down to the station and see if Trygsted has any
kind of criminal record -- if I can, I'll get a copy of the report, too."
"Thank you, Ray. Oh, and is there any way you could find out if an
insurance policy was taken out on Mrs. Trygsted recently?" "Sure. Why not?
It's not as if I have any work of my own to do." He walked out of the
apartment, his voice trailing behind him. "Why shouldn't I spend every
waking moment of my life doing legwork for a Mountie? And how do you know
it was for the insurance, anyway? Maybe he just hated her ..." The door
closed, and Ben nodded to himself as he put the dirty cups in the sink. It
was getting easier all the time to convince Ray to do the right thing. In
another decade or two, he might even be able to do it graciously ... or
perhaps not, he concluded as he heard the Riv squeal away from the curb.
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****** Ray knocked on the apartment door and entered without waiting for
an answer. Ben looked up expectantly. The detective waved a handful of
files, and dropped them in his friend's lap on his way to poke his head
into the refrigerator. In a muffled voice, he said, "Sorry to disappoint
you, Benny -- when was the last time you went shopping? -- but they made
an arrest in that hit and run. Some college kid, confessed the whole
thing. He's pretty broken up about it. What's this brown stuff?" He
sniffed at a container. "I have no idea. Mrs. Mehti gave it to me, and it
seemed rude to ask." He hid a smile as Ray dropped the container and
continued to rummage. "So I assume the culprit has no connection to Mr.
Trygsted?" "No, and I gotta tell you, you're the first person I've ever
know who actually says 'culprit.' Looks like an open and shut case." He
finally shut the refrigerator and came into the living room. He turned a
chair around and straddled it. "Did you find out anything about the
insurance?" "Yeah, but it wasn't easy. So I got Elaine to do it." "Ah.
That was very helpful of her." "Not really. You're taking her to dinner
next Saturday." He shrugged innocently. "Well, you *were* the one who
wanted to know." He gave in as Ben's expression of mingled shock,
exasperation and dismay. "I'm *teasing*, Benny." "I see. And what did you
find out?" Ben asked patiently. "Well, your hunch was right. Trygsted took
out a new policy on his wife last month. But I don't see where that gets
us," he added hastily. "I mean, the kid never heard of Trygsted or his
wife. It was just an accident. There's no proof that Trygsted had anything
to do with it." "I agree, there's no proof." Relieved that his friend was
finally getting reasonable, Ray said, "Good, I'm glad to hear --" "Do you
happen to have Mr. Trygsted's address?" Ray dropped his head into his
hands.
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** Carefully, Ray peeked over the hood of the Riv and quickly ducked down.
"Well, he's in the dining room talking to some guy. What do we do now?" It
was dark by this time, and the house was set back far enough from the
street that voices wouldn't be heard over the intervening distance.
"Offhand, Ray, I'd say we should try to get closer so we can hear what
they're saying." Ben started to move from around the car, and Dief stood
and shook himself, ready to move as well. "Wait a minute!" Ray grabbed
Ben's sleeve and pulled him back. "We were talking about heroism and
stupidity earlier, right?" Ben nodded. "So fill me in. Which is this?" Ben
paused, thinking it over. "Well, I suppose that would depend on what we
hear when we get to the house, wouldn't it?" He made for the open French
windows in a crouching run. Ray, swearing as loudly as he dared, followed.
"Whatta ya mean, ya ain't gonna pay me?" A voice was saying loudly. "I was
there, wasn't I? Ain't my fault that kid cut in front of me. You promised
me that money!" "The agreement was, you run over my wife and make it look
like an accident. You didn't run over *anyone*, did you?" Trygsted said
calmly. Ben and Ray looked at each other in amazement. "Therefore, I think
I should get to keep the money. This really worked out amazingly well for
me." "Hey, I was there in good faith. Don't ya think I woulda run over her
if I coulda?" "What are you going to do?" Trygsted said in a smirky voice.
"Go to the police? File suit against me?" Ray looked at Ben and shrugging,
whispered "I can't believe it's going to be this easy." He stood up and
stepped over the low window sill. "Speaking of the police ..." He held his
gun in one hand, his police credentials in the other. Ben came next,
observing the two criminals impartially. Trygsted just stood there,
stunned. The other man looked as if he was considering making a break for
it, but he stopped when Dief hopped gracefully inside and stood in front
of him, growling. Ray looked at the man and grinned. "Tell me, what are
your opinions on turning state's evidence?" He started to read Trygsted
his rights, but he stopped abruptly and looked at Ben. "Do you have any
suggestions on how I explain why I'm here in the first place? I mean,
Welsh *has* been pretty patient, but he has his limits. I can't keep on
saying, 'Well, sir, I've got this Mountie who has hunches' forever." Ben
thought for a few moments. "How about probable cause?" Ray considered
that. "Yeah, that usually works. I can do something with that." He
continued the Miranda warning. Later, as he and Ben watched the two men
being take away in separate police cars, Ray said, "So how's your jaw
feeling now?" "Oh, much better." "Good." "Of course, you realize how
fortunate we are that I *did* wait so long to go to the dentist." "Oh
yeah? How's that?" "Well, it should be obvious, Ray. If I had gone last
week, I wouldn't have had to take the day off today. And if I hadn't been
in my apartment to witness the supposed accident, Trygsted *would* have
gotten away with murder." "Yeah, you have a point." Ray squinted at Ben
with sudden suspicion. "Wait a minute. Are you trying to weasel out of
your next appointment already?" Ben looked wounded. "Ray!" "Come *on*,
Benny. You're going to tell *me* I don't know weaseling when I see it?"
Ben said stiffly, "I've never weaseled out of *anything* in my entire
life." "Well, you better not be starting now. Because Dr. Healy told me to
make sure you keep your follow-up appointment next week." "Next week?"
"Yep. That's only a temporary crown you have now. You get the real one
later. Let's go -- our work here is done." Laughing, Ray got in his car.
Ben and Dief followed, Ben trying desperately to think of ways to get out
of the appointment that could not, under any circumstances, be mistaken
for weaseling. *********************************** Thanks for the title to
Barbara Staton! (Before you ask, it's a reference to "The Thomas Crown
Affair" with Steve McQueen.)