Lost in this Masquerade

by Paul E. Jamison

 

The 27th Precinct's annual Hallowe'en costume party was in full swing when Constable Benton Fraser and Detective Ray Vecchio walked in.  Ray looked around and said, "Well, looks like some pretty good costumes! People outdid themselves this year!"

 

The decorations were the usual for Hallowe'en – bats, witches, cobwebs, pumpkins, a giant spider and a black light.  There was even a black cat slinking around the snack table.

 

"I would agree, Ray. Some are quite original.  Shall we mingle?"

 

"Sounds good to me, partner."  Ray and Fraser exchanged rather odd smiles and strode forward.

 

Someone stepped in front of them and said, "What's the matter? Did the shops run out of costumes?"

 

"Ah, Detective Huey, it's a pleasure to see you!  And may I say, that is a very good costume.  It fits you well."

 

"Thanks, Fraser." Detective Jack Huey was wearing a black shirt and a blue-and-black billed cap.  From the waist down, he was a duck, with large padded hips, orange legs and webbed feet.  He wore a duck bill over his nose and mouth.

 

Two more people came up to stand beside Detective Huey.  "Hey, Dewey! Louie!  Nice to see you guys!  Whoa – am I seeing triple here?" Detectives Gardino and Dewey were also dressed as ducks.  They looked almost exactly like Detective Huey, except that Gardino's cap was red-and-black, and Dewey's was green-and-black.  "You guys have got a concept going here! Who are you supposed to be?"

 

Huey grinned.  "Why, isn't it obvious, Ray?

 

"I'm Huey!"

 

"I'm Dewey!"

 

"I'm Louie!"

 

And they all three said, "We're Donald Duck's nephews!"

 

Huey said, "Sometimes we start…"

 

Dewey said, "…and finish…"

 

Louie said, "…a single sentence."

 

Together: "And sometimes we all say the same thing at once!"

 

"Oh, yeah, I remember those comics!  You guys have got the routine down nicely! Neat!  And it's even better to see you up and around, Louie!  How ya feelin'?"

 

"Oh, still a little bit shaky, Ray.  I probably should still be in bed, but I've always liked the 27th Hallowe'en bashes, and when Huey said something about the three Duck Boys – well, the costume idea was obvious!  As it is, I'll have to sit down and rest quite a bit, but I wouldn't be anyplace else!"

 

"Well, I'm glad you're here, guy."

 

"I'm happy to see you here as well, Detective Lewis.  Just take care of yourself."

 

"Humph.  This from a mountie that never gets sick!  But thanks, Ray, Fraser."

 

"So, if you three are Donald Duck's nephews, would Mr. Duck himself happen to be around?"

 

A high-pitched, squawking voice replied, "A very good question, Constable."  Ray and Fraser turned around.  There was another duck, a larger version of the nephews, wearing a shirt and hat in a sailor's motif.

 

"Ah, Leftenant Welsh!  You make – ah – a very good Donald Duck.  And you have the voice down perfectly!"

 

"Thank you, Constable.  I wish I could say the same in return.  Is there a good reason why you and Detective Vecchio have shown up here in your regular clothes?  This is supposed to be a costume party."

 

Ray and Fraser smiled. "Well, sir, there are costumes and there are costumes.  Sometimes a costume can be pretty subtle."

 

The three Duck Boys looked at one another and nodded. "Sure enough the…" "…shops didn't have any…" "…costumes left."

 

Donald squawked, "Well, Detective, I'll take your word for it. Perhaps later in the evening you can explain the subtleties to us all."

 

"We look forward to it, sir – Whoa!  Who's this here? Can it be Uncle Scrooge McDuck??"

 

Another duck came up to the group.  This one gave the impression of being much older, with an old, threadbare coat and beaver hat.  The figure wore spats on its webbed feet and carried a cane.

 

"That's a good costume, too.  Who is that – Elaine??  Is that you?!"

 

"Yes it is, Ray – good eye."  She spoke with a distinct Scottish accent.  She stroked her side "whiskers" and said, "It did come off looking rather well, didn't it?"

 

"Yes, it did, Elaine.  I'm curious why you chose it, though."

 

"Well, Fraser, the Duck Boys and the Lieutenant needed someone for Uncle Scrooge, and I couldn't find the costume I was looking for, so…"

 

"Ah. What was your original choice, if I may ask?"

 

"General Robert E. Lee."

 

"Ah."

 

"I agree with the others, though.  It is too bad that you two couldn't come up with costumes yourselves."

 

"Ah, well…  Say, I'm going to go get some punch.  You want me to bring you some, pal?"

 

"That would be fine, thank you kindly."  Soon the mountie was standing by himself.  He watched the black cat as it eyed the snack table.

 

"Constable, surely you could have thought of something to wear!"

 

The mountie turned around.  The person addressing him was dressed in a highly stylized black leather jacket, pants, boots and a peaked cap. The figure also wore a large drooping mustache.  "Ah, Inspector Thatcher – that's quite the outfit you have on, sir."

 

"Thank you, Constable.  How does it make me look?"

 

"Like one of the Village People, sir."

 

"Oh, good. That's more or less what I was striving for.  However, that doesn't excuse your lack of a costume!  Next time, try and get to the shops before they close!"

 

"Understood."

 

"Fine.  Think about that while I go mingle."

 

Again the mountie was alone, but not for long.  "Hello, Fraser."

 

"Ah, hello, Francesca – Oh, dear."

 

"Well, what do you think?  Would I make a good belly dancer?"  She wiggled her hips and jingled several coins that hung there.

 

"Well…"  At this point they were interrupted.  Loudly.

 

"Franny, you are going home and you are changing your clothes, NOW! No sister of mine is going to parade around naked in public!"

 

Francesca rolled her eyes.  "Well, for one thing, Raymond, this is not a public place; it is a private party – isn't it?  And for another, I am not naked!  This covers me up quite nicely, and there is nothing showing that shouldn't be!  Isn't that right, Fraser? Look at this – it's modest enough, isn't it?"

 

"Well…"

 

"If you value your life, you will not answer that question!"

 

"Understood."

 

"Oh, threatening people, now that's mature!  Grow up, Ray!"

 

"I would not want my sister parading around dressed like some – like some -"

 

"Ray, there is nothing wrong with the way I'm dressed!  Belly dancing has a long and honorable history!  I've been taking lessons for months, and tonight – "  She smiled at the mountie. " – I intend to put on a performance."

 

"Oh, I see.  You've been doing all that practicing just for a simple Hallow'en party!  You obviously didn't intend to do this to impress one single person, right?  How could I be so paranoid?"

 

"Listen, I'm a grown woman and I can wear what I want!"

 

"Excuse me for interrupting your discussion." It was the Village Person.  "But I have to say something to my Constable.  It just occurred to me what's going on here, and it turns out that the you and your friend here have been quite clever."

 

"Well, sir, if I may explain…"

 

Inspector Thatcher replied to the mountie.  "I'm not talking to you – Detective."  She turned to the other man.  "It's you I want to talk to, Constable."

 

Ray and Fraser looked at each other and slowly smiled.  Ray said, "Well, Benny, it looks like we've been fingered."

 

Constable Fraser replied, "It would appear so, Ray.  I suppose that we may as well end the masquerade."

 

"Fine with me."  The two men reached behind and began clawing at the backs of their necks.  As everyone in the room stopped and stared, they easily pulled their skins up and over their heads.

 

And there was Raymond Vecchio, dressed in an RCMP uniform, holding a Benton Fraser mask.  And there was Benton Fraser, dressed in a fine Armani suit, holding a Ray Vecchio.

 

For a very long second, the room was as quiet as a church on circus night.  Francesca was the first to make a noise.  She looked from one man to the other and said, "You mean you – and I came along and I – Oh, NOOOOO!"  She proceeded to run out of the room.

 

Ray and Fraser watched her go.  Fraser said, "Ray, is she actually going to run out in the street dressed like that?"

 

"I suppose so, Benny."

 

"Oh, dear.  Should we go after her?  What if – well, what if she's accosted?"

 

"I wouldn't worry about her, Benny.  She's hard to slow down when she's like this.  Any punk tries to get in her way will end up flat on his back with her footprints on his stomach."

 

"Ah.  I see.  Will she be angry with us?"

 

"Oh, I'm sure of it.  I'd avoid her for a few days if I were you.  Me, I grew up around her.  I'll survive.  It'll be worth it, though.  That was a lot of fun!"

 

"Well – Inspector Thatcher, may I ask how you figured out our secret?"

 

"It was something your partner in deception said to me.  He said I looked like one of the Village People.  Tell me, Constable, do you know who the Village People were?"

 

"Ah… I'm not quite sure, sir."

 

"Just as I figured.  I didn't think Benton Fraser had ever come across that particular cultural artifact.  Which is probably just as well."

 

Ray snapped his fingers. "Drat!  I slipped up on that one!  Oh, well, we came pretty close to pulling it off!"

 

"Very close, Detective."  This was from Lieutenant Welsh.  He was still doing the squawking voice perfectly.  "Where did you find the masks?"

 

"Oh, there is this remarkable craftsman over in Chinatown who does wonders with clay busts and latex.  He sold the masks to us at a discount when we told him of our plans.  He found the whole idea very amusing."

 

"I see. I won't mind admitting that you two fooled the rest of us here completely.  Well done.  I'd even go so far as to say that you may even have the best costumes here tonight."  There was general agreement from everyone, even the Duck Boys, who had worked hours on their own costumes.

 

"Oh, I wouldn't say that, Leftenant.  Outside of the masks, it was a simple clothing switch."

 

"Don't be modest, Constable.  Half of a masquerade costume is presentation.  The only thing missing is the wolf.  I'm surprised he isn't here."

 

Ray said, "He's got a point, Benny.  Where is Dief?  I haven't seen him all evening."

 

"I'm not sure, Ray.  He went out on some business of his own earlier and hadn't gotten back when we'd left.  I'm sure he's fine."

 

Uncle Donald Welsh said, "At any rate, I think this calls for a round of punch – Hey, what's that cat doing on the table?  Huey, get him down from there!"

 

"Sure thing, Unca Donald."  Huey placed his hands around the black cat's waist and lifted.  He almost fell over.  "Hey, this cat is heavy!  How can a cat this size weigh this much?"

 

The cat jumped down to the floor and trotted over to Fraser's feet. Ray stared down at it and shook his head.  "Benny? No, it couldn't be!"

 

"I think it is, Ray.  This explains what business Diefenbaker had."

 

Inspector Thatcher's jaw dropped and her mustache fell off.  "Constable, are you telling us that this cat is really – "

 

"I'm guessing it is, sir.  Apparently he went down to Chinatown as well."

 

The cat looked up at them all and barked.

 

THE END

 

DISCLAIMER

 

This story is for entertainment purposes only and is not intended to infringe on copyrights held by Alliance Communications Corp., CBS and CTV or any other copyright holders of "due South".