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return to Due South: season 1 episode 4 "They Eat Horses, Don't They?"
They Eat Horses, Don't They?
air date October 13, 1994
Scene 1
In a supermarket. Fraser has his head in a cooler. Vecchio, wearing an extremely puffy purple jacket (sweater?), is giving his card to a woman in the produce section.
VECCHIO: This is my cell phone. I carry it with me twenty-four hours a day.
WOMAN: Imagine, meeting someone over broccoli.
VECCHIO: I know. What are the odds? [Fraser presses a tub of yogurt to his forehead.] Oh, ah, excuse me, my associate's applying dairy foods to his body. Call me? [He goes over to Fraser at the dairy case.] Fraser, what are you doing?
FRASER: It's nineteen degrees cooler over here.
VECCHIO: I know you're nostalgic for that glacier lifestyle, but you're missing the whole point of coming to a supermarket.
FRASER: What do you mean?
VECCHIO: The modern supermarket is the place to meet women in the nineties.
FRASER: Really.
VECCHIO: Absolutely. I mean, you don't know who you're gonna meet in a bar. At least in here you can tell a lot about a person just by the section you meet her in.
FRASER: How?
VECCHIO: Well, for example, if she's near the vegetables, she cares about her body. If she's near the meat, an animal in bed. And if she's near the Eskimo Pies, she's given up, move back to meat. [Fraser unfolds a pocket knife, slices open a package of ground beef, and sniffs it.] Oh, no! You're putting beef on your nose? Stop that!
FRASER: This meat is bad.
VECCHIO: Well, that's a shame, because it looks really good on you. Why don't you dab a little pork behind your ears?
FRASER: [who has done it again] So's this one.
He overhears a conversation from a checkout register.
ANXIOUS CUSTOMER: Please hurry. My boy is sick. He's in danger. Please hurry.
MIDGE, THE CLERK: Going as fast as I can, lady.
ANXIOUS CUSTOMER: Mi hijo, su estomago, tiene fiebre.
MIDGE, THE CLERK: That's nice. [She holds up a bottle of pink medicine that isn't scanning.] You know how much this was?
ANXIOUS CUSTOMER: No.
MIDGE, THE CLERK: I need a price check on five. Price check on five.
ANXIOUS CUSTOMER: Just forget that one. [She throws some cash at Midge and runs with the rest of her groceries.]
MIDGE, THE CLERK: Hey, this isn't enough.
Someone puts a crisp U.S. ten-dollar bill on her counter.
FRASER: Will that cover it?
He picks up the medicine and follows the anxious customer. Midge sorts the cash and turns to her drawer, but not before shoving a couple of the bills into her pocket.
Nineteen degrees centigrade is 66 degrees Fahrenheit. There's a 66-degree temperature swing inside the supermarket and Fraser's only standing by an open cooler, not in a fridge or with a freezer door open or anything? I have some notes for the store manager. (Also, if it's that hot, what's with Vecchio's jacket or sweater or whatever that is?)
Before he starts cutting into the packaged meat, all Fraser has in his grocery cart is a big bag of dog food and a small carton of, I don't know, sour cream or something.
Midge is not, it must be said, going as fast as she can—or, I suppose, maybe she is, but if so, she's in the wrong line of work. She is unsympathetic to her customer's distress and doesn't understand when she gives more details in Spanish ("my son, his stomach, he has a fever"). The pink medicine is TV-brand Pepto-Bismol.
Fraser gives Midge green money! He can be taught!
Scene 2
Our anxious customer arrives home. We can see some of her family pictures on top of the television: someone's birthday, someone's First Communion. Several children are there: Looks like three boys and a girl.
SICK BOY: [on the sofa] Mama, mama.
GIRL: He's burning up. He's so hot.
ANXIOUS CUSTOMER: He's getting worse. Call nine-one-one.
FRASER: [He has followed her home.] They're on their way.
I would expect this family to speak Spanish among themselves, but maybe even those two sentences would throw the audience out if they can't deal with subtitles, who knows.
Credits roll.
Paul Gross
David Marciano
Beau Starr
Daniel Kash
Tony Craig
Catherine Bruhier
(plus Lincoln the dog)
Al Waxman, Teri Polo, Kaye Ballard, Ramona Milano, Domenic Cuzzocrea, Paulina Gillis, Vito Rezzo, and Richard Moll
That's right, Bull Shannon from Night Court with an "and" credit.
Scene 3
Vecchio is hurrying somewhere in the car and arrives at Memorial Hospital. The anxious customer and her other three children are sitting in the waiting room. Fraser is smiling reassuringly at the kids.
VECCHIO: Any news on the kid?
FRASER: They pumped his stomach. I think they got to him soon enough. He should be okay.
VECCHIO: [as his cell phone rings] Good, 'cause I have a feeling I'm gonna have to rush off here on some urgent business. Hello, Miss Broccoli. Ma! What are you calling me on my private line for? Of course I got the Parmesan! [He goes to another part of the waiting room to take his call.]
DOCTOR: Ms. Gamez?
ANXIOUS CUSTOMER (MRS. GAMEZ): Yes?
DOCTOR: All right, there should be no permanent damage.
MRS. GAMEZ: Oh, thank you, doctor, thank you.
DOCTOR: [distracted by one of his colleagues going by] Bob, Bob. Elliot just made Chicago All-stars in soccer.
BOB: Great.
DOCTOR: [returning to Mrs. Gamez] Uh, now we may never know exactly what caused this, but it looks like food poisoning. Probably you left some meat out too long —
MRS. GAMEZ: No, that's not possible. I would never do that.
SOME WOMAN: I'm here. Are you Mrs. Gamez?
MRS. GAMEZ: Yes.
SOME WOMAN: [to the doctor] Can we use your office?
DOCTOR: Don't be too long.
MRS. GAMEZ: What does she mean?
DOCTOR: Well, I had to call Child and Family Services. They just want to talk to you about a few things, all right? [Bob comes back the other way.] Hey, hey. Little guy scored three goals in the first period. [Bob chuckles and pats the doctor on the shoulder.]
SOME WOMAN (SOCIAL WORKER): This way. [Mrs. Gamez follows her back.]
FRASER: Excuse me, doctor. I'm Constable Benton Fraser, Royal Canadian Mounted Police.
DOCTOR: What's your connection here, Constable?
FRASER: I'm just trying to lend a hand, sir.
VECCHIO: [returning] He does that a lot.
FRASER: I think you're right about it being food poisoning, sir, but not from food that's been left out too long. I believe the little boy ate diseased meat.
DOCTOR: And why do you believe that?
FRASER: Olfactory analysis.
DOCTOR: You smelled it?
VECCHIO: He does that a lot, too.
FRASER: I took this from the trash in Mrs. Gamez's apartment. I thought perhaps you could —
DOCTOR: There's not enough there to analyze. Constable, I appreciate your concern, but, um, frankly I think we're dealing here with a woman from South America who's used to a different level of hygiene. I had no choice but to make the call to protect both the children and the hospital.
FRASER: El Salvador.
DOCTOR: What?
FRASER: They're from El Salvador.
DOCTOR: I'm sure they are.
The doctor smarms off back into the examining area. Vecchio pulls out his phone and dials.
FRASER: What are you doing?
VECCHIO: Checking to see if he has any outstanding parking tickets.
Okay so clearly the show has spared no effort to show us this doctor is an asshole. (And does his kid play soccer, as he first suggests, or hockey, which has periods? I bet he hasn't actually been to one of his own son's sportsball games in months.) It is true that doctors are mandated reporters, but shouldn't he have spoken to Mrs. Gamez (or one or more of the children) before calling Child and Family Services? (Meanwhile, how does the social worker know the way to his office? How often does she come down here?) And who made him the lab manager, right? How does he know Fraser doesn't have enough of a sample to analyze?
Scene 4
In the asshole doctor's office.
SOCIAL WORKER: I notice that our office has been in contact with you before, Mrs. Gamez.
MRS. GAMEZ: That's right.
SOCIAL WORKER: Three complaints by a Mr. Taggister.
MRS. GAMEZ: The landlord? He's trying to get us to move so he can rent my apartment for more money.
SOCIAL WORKER: And you have three other children. Mr. Gamez is not in the house?
MRS. GAMEZ: No.
SOCIAL WORKER: You must have your hands full. I just have two kids, and they make my head spin.
MRS. GAMEZ: My eldest daughter helps me. She's a very good girl.
SOCIAL WORKER: Well, it's certainly understandable that a mistake can be made.
MRS. GAMEZ: I didn't make a mistake.
SOCIAL WORKER: Your refrigerator's broken?
MRS. GAMEZ: Mr. Taggister won't fix it.
SOCIAL WORKER: You do understand, Mrs. Gamez, that if you don't keep meat cold —
MRS. GAMEZ: I only buy enough to use each day.
SOCIAL WORKER: Why do you think your other kids didn't get sick?
MRS. GAMEZ: They ate at the neighbor's.
SOCIAL WORKER: What did they have?
MRS. GAMEZ: I don't really know.
SOCIAL WORKER: Okay, that should do it for now.
MRS. GAMEZ: What do you mean for now?
The social worker is a little less of an asshole than the doctor. (File that under faint praise, comma, damning with.) We can see the move where she tries to pretend to be sympathetic about how busy her own two kids keep her. I don't know if Mrs. Gamez can see it too. The parentification of her eldest probably isn't helping, and neither is her not actually knowing what the other children ate when they ate at the neighbor's. (Why did they eat at the neighbor's, anyway?) But the implication from the doctor and the social worker that Mrs. Gamez must not know about the importance of refrigeration is, of course, some bullshit. Down to the well-known connection between poverty, brown skin, and lack of common sense. Please read that with as much sarcastic contempt as you can manage. I am so furious at the way this woman is treated. The only thing that makes it at all okay with me is that it's clear I'm supposed to be furious, like, the show is not trying to make me believe either the doctor or the social worker (or the landlord, obviously, who has complained three times before, that is, he is weaponizing Children and Family Services) is being at all reasonable here. Which makes me about a degree and a half less angry than I was about everyone being mad at Fraser for turning in one of his own.
Scene 5
In a hospital room.
SICK BOY: Thank you for helping me.
FRASER: You're welcome.
VECCHIO: I bet you've never seen a detective's badge up close.
SICK BOY: His hat is so cool.
VECCHIO: How about a Taser?
Fraser steps out of the curtain area to where Mrs. Gamez is crying.
FRASER: What is it?
MRS. GAMEZ: They make it that I hurt my Mario. That I made him sick.
FRASER: Sh, sh. Ray?
VECCHIO: Yeah, I've got to get back to the office. Welsh has been all over me. [Mrs. Gamez sobs.] All right, all right. I know somebody who knows somebody. We'll get the food inspector on it right away.
FRASER: I promise you, ma'am, nothing bad will happen.
MRS. GAMEZ: Bless you.
VECCHIO: Look, you can reach me or the world's nicest person through this number. [He gives her a card.]
FRASER: [gets his hat back from the sick kid (Mario)] See you soon, Mario.
Fraser, Fraser, Fraser, don't go making promises like that.
I'm not sure I entirely dig Vecchio's instincts. I like that he immediately and without prompting goes to the phone to see if the doctor has unpaid parking tickets; I don't like that he has to be prodded to do anything at all for Mrs. Gamez. It's not news that he and Fraser have different philosophies of police work, but here it's pretty stark: After the initial emergency response, is it more important to punish (or at least inconvenience) a person whom the narrative acknowledges to be an asshole, or is it more important to work for the benefit of a deserving person who needs help? (Because of course towing the doctor's car won't help her at all.)
Scene 6
At the supermarket, a man in a suit puts some ground red meat in a vial with some blue liquid—a reagent of some kind. The social worker is there, and also a couple of supermarket employees in aprons and the grocer himself, who is wearing a white lab coat for some reason.
GROCER: This is ridiculous. I've got twelve stores. Never had any complaints about my meat.
INSPECTOR: He's right. All of this meat is healthy.
Social worker gives them a Look and stalks off.
VECCHIO: Are you sure? My friend's nose has been in some strange places, but he's never been wrong.
INSPECTOR: I'm quite sure.
The inspector sneers off. The grocer and his employees also snoot on about their business. Fraser pocket-knifes and sniffs the ground meat again.
FRASER: He's right. This meat is okay. It's also been changed.
I feel like right there next to the meat case is not where this testing would probably take place? And that there'd be some sort of written report?
Scene 7
The loading dock behind the supermarket, which we now see is named Petit's Food Town. A man comes out a back door and locks it.
SOMEONE: Night, Norm!
Fraser and Vecchio are lurking, waiting for the man to leave. He gets in a car and drives away. It's probably the oddly lab-coated grocer. Our heroes emerge from their hiding place.
VECCHIO: We don't have a warrant. We don't even have enough evidence for a warrant.
FRASER: We don't need one. A hundred pounds of ground meat does not just enter a supermarket and then leave without a trace. [Vecchio sighs. Fraser stops. He is looking at the dumpster.] Ah, yes.
VECCHIO: Oh, no!
I'm not an expert, but I think maybe they do need a warrant? To search anything that isn't the dumpster, that is.
How does Fraser know the meat wasn't all sold?
Scene 8
Fraser and Vecchio are in the dumpster.
VECCHIO: You know, Fraser, when I was a little boy, I used to dream of what it would be like to be a police officer. You know, shooting the bad guys, saving the girl. Being knee-deep in day-old chicken heads looking for tainted meat was never a part of that dream.
FRASER: Check that container there.
VECCHIO: Why? If they wanted to hide something they just wouldn't have dumped it in here.
FRASER: Well, perhaps not this time. But garbage has a history, Ray. It always leaves something behind.
VECCHIO: Yeah, and most of it seems to be on me. You know what really annoys me? Why am I covered in crud and you look like you just got back from a hand laundry?
FRASER: I don't know. I've always been this way.
Vecchio's cell phone rings. Fraser is suddenly interested in something on Vecchio's shoulder.
VECCHIO: Ciao. It's Raimondo. Ma. No, Ma, I did not forget the lettuce. I got it right here. [to Fraser] See a head of lettuce anywhere? [back on the phone] Uh, Ma. No — yes, I got — look — look, no, I gotta go. Fraser's picking lint off me again. All right, bye. [hangs up] Thanks, but I don't think it's gonna help.
FRASER: It might.
VECCHIO: What is it?
FRASER: Parasites.
VECCHIO: Those were on me?
FRASER: Yes. [Vecchio yells and runs and jumps out of the dumpster. Fraser climbs up on some garbage and leans over the side.] Ray?
Vecchio squeals like a Looney Tune. You half expect to see him just punch through the dumpster's far wall and leave a Vecchio-shaped hole in it.
I like the overt acknowledgment that things Just Work Out for Fraser and he doesn't know why.
Scene 9
Vecchio is in the shower. He leans out around the curtain to speak to Fraser.
VECCHIO: These things wash off, right?
FRASER: [looks at the bugs in a plastic bag] Parasites? Yes, of course. Although there's always a chance that they laid eggs.
VECCHIO: [dives back into the shower] More soap! Gimme more soap!
FRASER: But I don't think so. Most parasites live only on particular hosts.
VECCHIO: What, I wasn't gracious enough? I should have offered them canapés?
FRASER: No, no, what I mean is, they're, uh —
MRS. VECCHIO: [comes in to get something] Oh, I hope you like spaghetti and meatballs.
FRASER: Well, if you made it, Mrs. Vecchio, I'm sure it will be delicious.
VECCHIO: Ma, you wanna get out of the bathroom?
MRS. VECCHIO: He's such a baby. [She leaves.]
VECCHIO: It's because I'm wet.
FRASER: What I mean is that each type of animal has its own distinct parasite.
FRANCESCA: [comes into the bathroom suddenly] Oh! Sorry. I didn't know you were in here.
MARIA: [comes in to get a hairbrush] Didn't know! She's been standing in the doorway timing it so you'd be undressed.
FRANCESCA: You are such a liar!
VECCHIO: [shouts from behind the shower curtain] I am naked in here! Does that mean anything to anybody?
FRANCESCA: [simultaneously] Oh, who cares?
MARIA: [simultaneously] Shut up!
FRANCESCA: [to Fraser] Here, you can use my towels.
FRASER: Well, thank you, but I'm afraid I'm not having a shower.
FRANCESCA: Oh, don't be silly, it's really no trouble. [to Vecchio] And don't use all the hot water! [to Fraser] I'll wait for mine.
MARIA: [leaving] Yeah, by the keyhole.
FRANCESCA: [following her] You know, I've really had enough of your mouth.
FRASER: I could be wrong, Ray, but I've never seen this parasite in beef. Or pork, for that matter.
MARIA'S HUSBAND: [comes in, grabs his toothbrush, turns on the tap at the sink] I have a question for you.
VECCHIO: Hey, man, shut that off!
MARIA'S HUSBAND: What do you have to do to be a Mountie?
FRASER: Well, Tony, there's a whole battery of mental and physical tests you have to pass.
MARIA'S HUSBAND (TONY): I could do that.
MARIA: [comes in to put her hairbrush back] You can't turn on the big screen without getting winded.
TONY: [follows her back out] Who are you? Jane Fonda?
FRASER: In fact, Ray, the only animal I've ever seen this on — it was horsemeat, Ray.
MRS. VECCHIO: [comes back in with a pot] I don't know. These meatballs don't seem quite right. I don't know if it's the oregano or the garlic. What's missing?
FRASER: [sniffs the pot] Beef.
VECCHIO: [looks around the shower curtain] Ma! Where'd you buy that meat?
MRS. VECCHIO: Petit's Food Town. I think I know what's wrong. [She is about to taste the sauce.]
VECCHIO: No! No, no, Ma, don't! It's dog food!
MRS. VECCHIO: Dog food! [She drops the spoon.]
FRASER: Possibly diseased.
MRS. VECCHIO: Move out of my way! [She dumps the whole pot of meatballs and sauce in the toilet and flushes.]
VECCHIO: [comes out of the shower with a towel around his waist] No, no, Ma, that was evidence!
MRS. VECCHIO: What am I gonna do for dinner? [She says something else on her way out of the room.]
FRASER: I'm afraid I was too late to get a specimen.
VECCHIO: You know, this, this meat could be everywhere. [His phone rings.] Hi, it's Vecchio. Yes, Mrs. Gamez, he's right here.
FRASER: Hello, Mrs. — We'll be right there.
VECCHIO: We'll be right where? I can't go like this!
I can't quite catch what Mrs. Vecchio says on her way out of the bathroom. I'm pretty sure I can hear something like mangiare and definitely qua—she's panicking in Italian about what they're going to eat.
But more importantly: What in the world is she doing bringing her stock pot into the bathroom? I don't really understand why Fraser is in the bathroom with Vecchio in the first place, but maybe he thinks he'll be safe from the family there. Obviously he's mistaken about that, because the bathroom is more or less Grand Central Station, and that fact seems to faze Fraser not at all and Vecchio quite a bit, which is a little strange, because you'd think Vecchio would be used to that by now on account of it seems they all live there rather than just being over at their mother's house for dinner. (A house that size I'd assume has more than one bathroom, but never mind.) So even though they apparently don't lock the bathroom door, who brings food into the bathroom? What the hell, Mrs. Vecchio?
Scene 10
At the Gamez home. The social worker and two other people are leading the children out of the apartment.
MRS. GAMEZ: Stop them! Please, stop them.
SOCIAL WORKER: We did a surprise inspection. There's no hot water.
MRS. GAMEZ: The landlord won't fix the heater.
SOCIAL WORKER: There's evidence of vermin.
MRS. GAMEZ: I beg him to call the exterminator. Please don't take my children.
SOCIAL WORKER: Mrs. Gamez, your boy could have died from that meat.
FRASER: Well, I may be able to shed some light on that —
SOCIAL WORKER: Frankly, we believe her children will be safer under our umbrella right now. I'm sorry.
She takes the children away. Mrs. Gamez closes the door, sobbing uncontrollably.
MRS. GAMEZ: You promised you'd help me. You didn't.
She goes to the window and watches her children being taken away. They look back up at her from the sidewalk and the back windows of the cars they're loaded into, and it is awful.
I absolutely admit that I am the soft target audience for this sort of thing. Thank god they directed the child actors sad but didn't make them cry. (And at least these kids are a little older than the Stock Crying Toddler who is used to show pandemonium, and about which I will happily rant in a different space any time. I thought I'd done so before and could link to it here, but if I have, it wasn't on DW.)
I'm going to give the social worker about five cents more credit in this scene because the actress is making her a tad more sympathetic with showing how she hates this part of her job but has to do it anyway. Without the little wobble she lets into her voice, I probably wouldn't be stopping to think: Well, here's the thing, those kids aren't as safe as they should be in that home. But: It is not their mother's fault! Why the fuck isn't DCFS going after the landlord?! I guess that's not their department! Don't you have housing inspectors in Illinois?! Someone should be compelling the landlord to make the home habitable whether there are kids living there or not! . . . I looked up a bunch of stuff about foster care in Illinois for It's Not A Secret, etc., of which I ended up needing very little, but I'm pretty sure this isn't how families are supposed to be dealt with. Even brown ones. [fury]
Scene 11
At the police station. Vecchio is on the phone. Across his desk from him, Fraser is speed-reading.
VECCHIO: No, no, I understand that. Yeah, well, she should at least be able to see her kids. Right. [He moves a doughnut out of the way so he can write in his notebook.] Right, well, how long will you be considering this? [Diefenbaker eats the doughnut.] Yeah, well, thanks, you have a great day too. [hangs up] Hey, hey! [to Fraser] Your deaf wolf just ate my jelly doughnut.
FRASER: He doesn't like doughnuts.
VECCHIO: Yeah, well, maybe not yours. [to Diefenbaker] Come here. I know you did it.
WELSH: Vecchio. How you doing on that drugstore homicide on Pulaski?
VECCHIO: Uh . . . well, sir, you see, I'm putting together the preliminary findings, and I've been combing over them, and I'm looking for that tell-tale thread that will give up the shooter.
WELSH: So I can assume you haven't done anything.
VECCHIO: Uh, that would be accurate, sir, but, uh, something has come up.
WELSH: Huey, Louie.
GARDINO: Louis, sir.
WELSH: You get the Pulaski case.
HUEY: Yes, sir!
VECCHIO: Aw, come on, sir, you see, I'm working on this thing. It's sort of a — how can I put it, sir — somebody's switching dog food for beef.
WELSH: Dog food, Vecchio? I assigned you to a dog food case?
VECCHIO: Oh, no, sir. But I believe I have a situation happening here, sir.
WELSH: Drop it.
VECCHIO: Yes, sir.
GARDINO: Dog food? Jack, why is it that you and I never come up with great cases like that?
HUEY: I don't know, Louis. I guess we just don't have the nose for it.
GARDINO: Or perhaps we don't stay low enough to the ground to sniff it out.
HUEY: Perhaps.
VECCHIO: Come on, fellas, give yourself a little more credit than that. You're plenty low enough.
GARDINO: Is that right, Vecchio?
VECCHIO: Yeah. I mean, sure. How else can you get your noses that lovely shade of brown?
GARDINO: Maybe you and I should get together after work.
VECCHIO: I don't think so, Louie. I got dinner plans.
HUEY: Forget it, Louis. Come on. [They buzz off.]
VECCHIO: You see? This is why — hello? Hello? [Fraser looks up.] This is why I don't like to help you. Because I get humiliated.
FRASER: Well, I'm very sorry about that, Ray.
VECCHIO: I'm a police detective. I don't know from horses, all right? Give me pimps, give me drug dealers, give me something I know how to find.
ELAINE: [appears from around the corner] I heard you're asking about horses. I did some checking, and there's a major auction going on today at the grounds south of Arlington. I thought you'd want to know. [She goes back to another part of the department.]
FRASER: Thank you very much, Elaine.
VECCHIO: And what is it that we have to go on? One lousy little bug? Has it ever occurred to you that you could be wrong?
MAN IN A SUIT: [appears from around the corner] You were right, Fraser. I have never seen this particular strain before, but it is definitely a kind of Onchocerca cervicalis, and it's found only in horsemeat.
FRASER: Well, thank you very much, Mr. Madison.
MAN IN A SUIT (MR. MADISON): You're welcome. [He goes back to wherever he came from.]
VECCHIO: Something tells me we're onto something, and I'm not going to let him take this away from me. [heads over to Welsh, who is fixing his lunch in the middle of the bullpen] A moment of your time, please, sir.
WELSH: Forget it.
VECCHIO: Thank you, sir. [turns to go]
FRASER: Ah, excuse me, sir? Detective Vecchio believes we have the potential for a major health crisis here, and there appears to be a strong indication of criminal intent.
WELSH: You really believe that.
VECCHIO: Ah, yes, I do sir.
WELSH: Good. Go tell the FDA.
VECCHIO: Is that a meatloaf sandwich, sir?
WELSH: Yes, it is. Why?
VECCHIO: Oh, no reason, sir. I was just wondering, does your wife shop at Petit's Food Town?
WELSH: [with the sandwich almost at his lips] All right, get on it. [Slams the sandwich back down on the table.]
VECCHIO: Thank you very much, sir.
Welsh storms off.
FRASER: Nicely done.
VECCHIO: Same to you.
FRASER: Are you going to check for priors on the supermarket owner?
VECCHIO: On my way.
FRASER: I'll be at the auction. Call me if you find anything.
VECCHIO: Okay.
Last part first: How will he call you, Fraser? He has a cell phone, but you don't.
Welsh is not wearing a wedding ring. Which isn't really a criterion; plenty of married people don't. But what's with Vecchio assuming Mrs. Welsh does the grocery shopping? That's faintly gross. Also, though, wouldn't a meatloaf sandwich be made with leftover meatloaf? For that matter, isn't meatloaf made with meat left over from some other recipe that you had too much for? By which I mean, wouldn't Welsh have eaten that very meatloaf before and something else before that, whatever they bought the meat for in the first place? So if he were going to get sick from that sandwich, he'd have been sick already?
And why is he eating in the middle of the squad room rather than his office or the break room?
Uncle Google says O. cervicalis is, as the name suggests, an equine neck threadworm. It affects horses' eyes and skin, and the adult worms live in the nuchal ligament. I guess the larvae could be present in any muscle group? Or the ground meat could include all kinds of parts you'd normally think would be excluded? Or the fact that it's a strain Mr. Madison has never seen before is doing a lot of work here, explaining why it's different from known strains of O. cervicalis (What's that thing someone once said at a Clarion workshop about how if you write about guns or horses you will draw the possibly unwelcome attention of every expert in the world, real or imagined, but at least if you're writing about guns you can throw the word "modified" in there to shake them off?)? 😀
I like the further evidence of Things Just Working Out for Fraser. Nice timing, Elaine and Mr. Madison.
Scene 12
At the horse auction. In a trailer, a horse is wigging out. A young woman is passing out fliers.
YOUNG WOMAN: Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Thank you. [She looks over at the trailer. Fraser is coming toward it from the other side, unbuttoning his jacket.]
FRASER: Excuse me. Excuse me! Stand to one side?
He goes into the trailer holding his jacket in front of him. He drapes his jacket over the horse's head; the horse calms down quickly. Fraser leads the horse out to the wrangler.
FRASER: She was just scared.
WRANGLER: Thanks.
FRASER: No problem.
YOUNG WOMAN: Nice work! You just made it a whole lot easier for them to kill that beautiful horse. [hands out more fliers] Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Thank you. Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Stop the slaughter, save the horses.
FRASER: Excuse me? There's nothing wrong with that horse.
YOUNG WOMAN: There's nothing wrong with half the horses they're auctioning. They're still going to be dog food by the weekend. [back to handing out fliers] Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Thank you. Stop the slaughter, save the horses. Thank you.
SLIMY OLD MAN: You have quite some printing budget here, Miss Cabot.
YOUNG WOMAN (MISS CABOT): Obviously not enough to stop butchers like you.
SLIMY OLD MAN: Oh, well, then, allow me to contribute.
MISS CABOT: I don't want your blood money, Leggett.
SLIMY OLD MAN (LEGGETT): How you do overreact. I'm a businessman, Miss Cabot, and I provide a useful service.
MISS CABOT: You also grind up people's pets and use them for filler.
LEGGETT: I'm the buyer, not the seller. You might save some of that righteous indignation for the seller.
MISS CABOT: Yes, well, believe me, I do. [walks away handing out fliers]
LEGGETT: Mm-hm. [to Fraser, who has been picking up fliers after people toss them on the ground] You know what she needs, don't you? Hmm-mm.
FRASER: Well, yes. A world where people don't value life by the pound. Excuse me.
AUCTIONEER: The auction is starting, folks, let's settle in. First horse weighs in at ten hundred eighty-eight pounds. The bidding starts at fifty. And five, fifty-five, how 'bout a bid who'll give me fifty-five, how 'bout a bid who'll give fifty-five, how 'bout a bid who'll give fifty-five, fifty-five, and seven, seven, how 'bout a bid who'll give sixty, and two, two, five, how 'bout a bid of sixty-five, there, and seven, sixty-seven, there, now seventy, seventy now, and two, how 'bout a bid of two, three, and seventy-three cents, and four, how 'bout a bid of four, five, and seventy-five, and six, and seven, seventy-seven, how 'bout a bid of eight, eight, 'bout a bid of nine, how 'bout a bid of eighty, eighty, how 'bout a bid of one, there, now one, eighty-one, and two, got a bid of eighty-one, two? Sold, eighty-one cents, Miss Cabot. This horse weighs eleven-eighty. All righty, how much, folks? How 'bout a bid of fifty? Now five, who'll give me fifty-five, and seven — [etc.]
VECCHIO: [from somewhere far away] Anybody seen a Mountie?
Thanks for deliberately not getting what Leggett was driving at, Fraser. Ugh.
At 81 cents a pound, Miss Cabot has just bought that horse for $881.28. (I do math so you don't have to.)
Scene 13
A big dude comes up to Vecchio and clears his throat. Twice.
VECCHIO: You got a problem with something?
BIG DUDE: You oughta move your foot.
VECCHIO: Maybe I don't want to move my foot.
BIG DUDE: But if you don't move your foot, I can't get to that horse patty.
VECCHIO: Why would you want that horse patty?
BIG DUDE: I'm not telling.
VECCHIO: Tell me why you want that horse patty and maybe I'll move my foot.
BIG DUDE: Never.
VECCHIO: I'm a cop.
BIG DUDE: So what?
VECCHIO: Do you want to serve time over a piece of manure?
BIG DUDE: I'd rather go to the chair than talk.
VECCHIO: You know what I just decided? I've just decided that you are so nuts I'm gonna let you have that patty. [He leaves the big dude to his horseshit and runs to find Fraser at the auction.]
AUCTIONEER: — seventy-seven, now at eight, now nine, seventy-nine, and eighty —
VECCHIO: Yo, Sergeant Preston! Yo, Sergeant Preston, I bring news from the trading post. Turns out our supermarket owner doesn't have a record. He's squeaky clean.
FRASER: I see.
VECCHIO: He has a chain of stores, but they're barely breaking even. However, he did just buy a home for a million dollars cash. Oh, and Sam the lab guy wanted me to tell you that that bug you took off me only affects —
FRASER: Wild horses?
VECCHIO: Very good!
FRASER: I was afraid of that.
AUCTIONEER: Our next horse weighs in at nine hundred and ninety pounds —
VECCHIO: Is that what these are?
FRASER: No. Wild horses would have a different angle of the foot. The hoof would grow out. It would be chipped on the outside.
VECCHIO: Naturally.
FRASER: Also, wild horses are protected. You can't capture them or sell them.
VECCHIO: So what happened? One just crawled into the dumpster and passed away?
FRASER: I don't know, Ray. But it would appear we're not going to find the answer here.
VECCHIO: Great. I'll get the car, you say goodbye to the babe.
FRASER: Babe? Oh, you mean — [He looks over at Miss Cabot, who is not even looking their way.]
VECCHIO: Yeah.
FRASER: Well, I — there's nothing between us.
VECCHIO: I'm sure. [walks away chuckling]
FRASER: [to a couple of randoms sitting in the front row] I barely know her. [He goes over to talk to Miss Cabot.]
AUCTIONEER: This horse weighs in at nine hundred and seventy-five pounds. All righty, bidding starts, seventy. Thank you, now two. —
FRASER: Isn't that the —
MISS CABOT: Yes, it is.
AUCTIONEER: Seventy-five cents a pound, seventy-five, now seventy-seven. That's seventy-seven, now, now, eighty. How 'bout a bid at eighty? Now one, eighty-one, and two, two, how 'bout a bid of three, three, four, eighty-four cents here, eighty-four, and five, how 'bout a five here — [This is a bidding war between Miss Cabot and Slimy Leggett.] — six, now seven, now at eight, eighty-eight cents, and nine? Eighty-nine, now ninety, how 'bout over there, ninety, thank you, sir, ninety-five, all bids in at ninety-five cents, ninety-five, all bids in.
MISS CABOT: [She had raised her number again, but the guy didn't take her bid.] Ninety-seven!
AUCTIONEER: I'm sorry, Miss Cabot, but you're over your credit limit.
MISS CABOT: I'm out of money.
AUCTIONEER: Ninety-five cents, any other further advance on ninety-five?
MISS CABOT: Take my car!
AUCTIONEER: I'm sorry, Miss Cabot, but the terms are cash. Ninety-five cents, all through and done at ninety-five.
FRASER: I have thirty. [He takes off his hat.]
AUCTIONEER: Sold, Leggett Meats, ninety-five cents a pound. [bangs his gavel]
MISS CABOT: Damn it.
Sergeant Preston of the Yukon ran for three years in the late 1950s, but apparently because it was in color it was easier to rerun than some other prime time stuff from that era. It aired on Saturday mornings in the early 60s, so Vecchio may even have watched it.
How does Fraser think offering Miss Cabot thirty bucks will solve anything? He knows perfectly well the horses are being sold by the pound. Granted if she's at her limit and can't overbid Leggett by two cents a pound on a 975-pound animal, that means she's not being allowed to overbid him by a total of $19.50 (US). (Which, at a rate of CDN $0.62 to USD $1.00, is CDN $31.45, so even if he's offering her pink and blue money, it might actually cover the difference.) BUT her last bid before she hit her limit was $.90/lb, where she'd have been paying $877.50 for the horse; Leggett is paying $926.25, so she needs to come up with fifty bucks (well, $48.75) to equal his bid and then she needs to overbid him. Fraser's thirty dollars won't help no matter which currency it's in.
We know she bought the first horse, weighing 1088 lbs., for $881.28. Assume she bid heavily and may have won the second horse, weighing 1180 lbs., at a similar price per pound (the first one was 81 cents, so let's go with that here too), for $955.80. There was a 990-lb. horse in there also, which if she won it at a similar price point she won't have paid less than $800 for. So (rounding up) she's already spent close to $2650 on horses by the time she can't overbid Leggett for the one Fraser quieted in the trailer.
What does Vecchio see to make him think Fraser has hit it off with Miss Cabot? She's not making eyes at him or anything; she's focused on her purpose.
I don't think it's true that O. cervicalis (at least, the strain that is known here in the real world) only affects wild horses—nor that it only affects feral horses, which is probably what they mean, because the only modern true wild horse is Przewalski's horse, which lives on the central Asian steppe; what we think of as wild horses in North America are mustangs, feral animals descended from domesticated horses brought here by Europeans. (I'm getting this from Uncle Wiki, so horse people, please feel free to say more about the angle of feral horses' feet and whether Fraser is making shit up or what.)
I do not know why Vecchio decides to be so confrontational with the guy who wants the horse patty. That's a mystery.
Scene 14
Fraser is following Miss Cabot away from the auction.
FRASER: Miss Cabot? Do you mind if I ask you how you can — how you can afford to —
MISS CABOT: Ah. My allowance.
FRASER: Oh, I see. So then you'd be quite — quite, uh —
MISS CABOT: Actually, it's my father who's quite-quite. Fortunately, he approves of how I'm spending the money.
FRASER: And now you'd be going to —
MISS CABOT: To sell my car. It was nice meeting you.
FRASER: Excuse me. I was wondering if, before you leave — could I ask you a question?
MISS CABOT: Yes?
FRASER: Would it be possible for you to get me a breakdown of the various meat packers, the number of horses they'd bought at auction —
MISS CABOT: [laughing] You know, that is the most unique come-on I have ever heard.
FRASER: I don't follow you.
MISS CABOT: I'll, uh, look into it for you.
FRASER: I'd appreciate that. This is my address.
MISS CABOT: Fine.
FRASER: Drive safely. [She drives off.] Seatbelt!
VECCHIO: [Joins Fraser and points to Leggett] That's the guy who did it.
FRASER: How do you know?
VECCHIO: He looks like, um, that actor.
FRASER: What actor?
VECCHIO: Oh, well, you know how in Barnaby Jones you can always tell the bad guy, because he's played by that actor that you see a lot.
FRASER: Yes?
VECCHIO: He looks like that actor. Trust me. They haven't been able to fool me once. [The big dude who wanted the horse patty drives by and glares at Vecchio.] Or maybe he did it.
FRASER: Ray? What's a come-on?
So of course Fraser asking “Ray, what's a come-on?" is precious and we love him.
I don't know about Barnaby Jones, but I know that in Law & Order you could tell who was going to turn out to be the defendant because they were played by someone you'd ever seen before. (Meanwhile, in Murder, She Wrote you could tell who was going to get killed because they were an asshole to everyone and everyone had a motive.) I do see that Barnaby Jones is the converse of Fraser: a private investigator who, in the first episode, solves the murder of his son. And then in later seasons, they added a character who came to Los Angeles from Chicago on the trail of the killers of his father. Make of that what you will.
Miss Cabot is driving a nice car, a shiny red convertible whose emblem they are careful not to show us. The average price of a new car (all types, but not trucks) in 1994 was about $17k, and the average price of a used car about $7700, so she could probably get $5k or so for that one if she took her time about it?, but as she's in a rush—I assume she's going to do it as fast as she can for cash in hand so she can come right back and buy more horses—I predict she sells it for not more than a couple thousand dollars.
Scene 15
Vecchio is driving Fraser to visit the Gamezes.
FRASER: This is it.
VECCHIO: See you later.
FRASER: Oh, would you mind dropping by my place and checking on Dief? He's been in the apartment all day.
VECCHIO: Oh, great. I can't wait to see what I'll find.
FRASER: Thanks, Ray.
VECCHIO: You owe me one.
FRASER: All right. [Vecchio drives off. Fraser greets the folks hanging around on the stoop.] Afternoon, gentlemen.
He goes up to chez Gamez.
MRS. GAMEZ: They tell me he's feeling much better, thank you. I get to take them to the park today.
FRASER: I understand there's going to be a hearing.
MRS. GAMEZ: Yes, but everything is going to be okay. I'm going to win and keep my children.
FRASER: I'm sure you will. I admire your spirit. You know, there's a story I keep forgetting to tell Mario.
MRS. GAMEZ: I'm sure he would have liked it.
FRASER: I learned it when I was a little boy. About an Inuit warrior named Nakuq who became terrified of another warrior from a neighboring village — so terrified that he decided to abandon his home and run. And every night, he would build a small hut to stay in. But each of these one-night homes was weak, and he didn't have the time to make them strong; and so when his enemy finally found him, Nakuq had nothing to protect himself, and he was lost.
MRS. GAMEZ: That is a sad story.
FRASER: Yes, it is. [He gets up and goes to a coat closet, opening the door to show that nothing is hanging in it, but the floor is full of packed suitcases.]
MRS. GAMEZ: How did you know?
FRASER: Your family pictures are gone. You can't run, Margarita.
MRS. GAMEZ: I'm so scared. I'm so scared they are going to keep my children. I was going to take them.
FRASER: I told you I will help you.
MRS. GAMEZ: I can't wait forever to have them back. I just can't.
FRASER: Justice will out. I promise you.
But how? How can he make that promise? Doesn't he, of all people, stuck in Chicago because nobody in all of Canada wants to be stationed with him, know that sometimes life isn't fair?
It's not just the pictures, of course; she tips her hand when she says Mario "would have liked to hear" Fraser's story, as if she knows they won't see each other again. (Anyway, we have also now learned that her name is Margarita.)
Why does Fraser think Dief has been all alone in the apartment all day just because that's where he left him? Did he not hire Willie Lambert to feed and walk him twice a day? Or failing that, is he really still unaware of his dog's ability to go out the fire escape?
Scene 16
Vecchio is walking Diefenbaker on a leash and trying to eat a cupcake, which Diefenbaker is jumping for.
VECCHIO: Don't don't even think about it, okay? Don't even think about it, all right? Listen, just do what you've got to do so I can get out of here, okay? You know why you can't go, don't you? It's all that sugar. Remember that the next time you try to eat something of mine. This is what happens to bad wolves. Come on! Think results here! Go, willya? [has an inspiration] Never mind. Come on, we need to go see somebody. Come on, come on, we gotta go see somebody. In the car. [gets Diefenbaker in the car, runs around to the driver's side] Move over, move over. [drives off]
Love the two sidekicks getting a scene without the hero. (I also love that Vecchio uses his blinker when he pulls out into traffic. Given the way he drives the rest of the time, I mean.)
Scene 17
Vecchio drives up to a stable and leaves Diefenbaker in the car.
VECCHIO: Yo! Manure man!
BIG DUDE: Leave me alone.
VECCHIO: Look, I just came to apologize. I shoulda never have said you were nuts. You obviously do this for a very good reason, and you probably make a pretty good living at it, too.
BIG DUDE: You're not thinking of going into this yourself.
VECCHIO: You man scooping? I have no immediate plans.
BIG DUDE: An excellent living.
VECCHIO: Really.
BIG DUDE: I collect and sell it for fertilizer.
VECCHIO: So you must know your —
BIG DUDE: Like nobody else.
VECCHIO: So where do you find it all?
BIG DUDE: Stables, pony rides. But they're not my biggest source.
VECCHIO: Meat-packing plants.
BIG DUDE: The motherlode.
VECCHIO: Let me ask you a question. Have you noticed any subtle differences in the product at any of these various plants?
BIG DUDE: I'll check my database.
VECCHIO: Great. Here's my card, give me a call, and to show my appreciation, I'm gonna point out that you missed something really nice behind that bucket there.
BIG DUDE: Why, thank you!
Ray Vecchio does detective work! Film at eleven. (That's not totally fair. He did a lot of solving on the Bob Fraser case. But he was pretty incidental in the bonds robbery, the insurance scam, and the vendetta, wasn't he?)
Scene 18
It is 5:04 a.m. The title of the book on the nightstand appears to be The Spirit of Solitude. Diefenbaker is sleeping in the bed; Fraser is sleeping on the floor. Miss Cabot is throwing stones at Fraser's window to get his attention. He props the window open and leans out. Music cue: "Uphill Battle" by Sarah McLachlan (instrumental). She is on horseback with a riderless horse next to her.
MISS CABOT: You don't have a phone.
FRASER: Thank you. You came all the way here to tell me that?
MISS CABOT: No. I got the information that you asked for.
FRASER: Ah. Ah. You want to come up? [realizes she can't really because horses] Oh. [He hits his head on the window.] I'll be right down. [He hits his head on the window again.]
They are riding through the streets at a walk.
FRASER: Were you just in the neighborhood?
MISS CABOT: More or less. I go for a ride every morning.
FRASER: Are these yours?
MISS CABOT: I'm getting quite a collection. Most I find homes for, but some are harder to give up than others.
FRASER: You said you had some information for me.
MISS CABOT: Yeah, I did. [She rides off faster. He follows her; she calls to him from around a corner.] Hey! So my sources told me the six major meat packers have had a pretty consistent purchase rate over the last several months.
FRASER: Well, if they're bringing in wild horses, they're being very quiet about it.
MISS CABOT: Wild horses?
FRASER: I think they're stealing them from protected ranges.
MISS CABOT: But why would someone take a risk like that?
FRASER: Thousands of pounds of free horse meat at two dollars a pound?
MISS CABOT: Someone's making a fortune.
FRASER: Exactly. So, uh, do you come here often? No, I didn't mean it like that. What I meant was, uh, it's an unusual place. Not — not that there's anything wrong with that.
MISS CABOT: Race you to the second light?
She wins, because Fraser makes his horse stop and wait at the first light.
A young woman who throws money around the way she does probably doesn’t think it's a fortune until it's in the middle five figures at least, but at a thousand pounds a head that's only a few dozen horses, isn't it.
The Spirit of Solitude could be either (a) the first two volumes of The Confessions of Aleister Crowley, which was published as The Spirit of Solitude in 1929 before being rebranded as Confessions vols. 1 & 2 when the remaining four volumes were edited and published in 1969, or (b) Shelley's "Alastor, or The Spirit of Solitude." This seems a lot more likely! The shape of the author's name on Fraser's book doesn't look like "Percy Bysshe Shelley," but it could be "Percy B. Shelley." But the cover (or title page, which is what this appears to be) doesn't have "Alastor" anywhere on it, and the poem is only 720 lines; it wouldn't need a whole volume. We don't see the whole page; maybe it says "and other poems" at the bottom.
It's an awfully long time since I did any riding, but it looks to me like both horses are saddled Western style. But they're both riding kind of mixed? Mainly she's got her reins in her right hand, but occasionally she uses both, and he's usually got his reins in both hands, and he's posting when the horse trots over to meet Miss Cabot before they race off to the second light? All of which feels English to me rather than Western? I feel like I remember being taught that a right-handed rider would hold Western reins in the left hand because they were going to be working with their right hand. Horse people are, as usual, invited to correct me.
Scene 19
Fraser is on mannequin guard duty at the consulate.
VECCHIO: You're off in thirty seconds, let's go. [Fraser does not move.] Okay, let's do this your way. Old Zaleb came through for us. He remembers detecting some very subtle changes in the horse manure at a particular plant. Did you want to hear which one? Do the words Barnaby Jones mean anything to you? [Looks at his watch] Five, four, three — [The clock chimes and Fraser is free.]
FRASER: No matter what you say, you cannot base an investigation on a theory developed from the casting of a television series.
VECCHIO: You're just mad because I was right.
FRASER: No. I'm not mad, it just doesn't make any sense.
VECCHIO: Oh, and putting horsemeat on your nose does?
FRASER: Well, that was different.
VECCHIO: You're telling me.
Al Waxman (1935–2001) was never on Barnaby Jones, but he was indeed a hey-it's-that-guy actor in his day (and he played Cagney and Lacey's boss). So this is our show hanging a hat right on its choices. I love it.
Scene 20
Staking out the meat packing plant.
VECCHIO: Boy, let me tell you, it doesn't get any better than this. Sitting in the car with Captain Hook watching ill-fated horses swat flies off their back. Thank you very much.
FRASER: [looking through his spyglass] They just passed inspection. No wild horses.
VECCHIO: Hey. My source can look at Palomino dung and tell you where they've been born, all right? He wouldn't be wrong about something like this. They'll be here. You just keep your eyes open.
Apparently some time later.
FRASER: [looking through his spyglass again] Ray. Ray.
VECCHIO: [waking up] What?
FRASER: Those are wild horses. They're brought in uninspected. Their meat is mixed with a little beef, then packaged and shipped off to cooperating supermarkets.
VECCHIO: But some of the horses are diseased.
FRASER: Can we get backup?
VECCHIO: On a dog food case?
FRASER: Then we'll have to do it ourselves.
VECCHIO: Do what by ourselves?
FRASER: [gets out of the car] Dief. Stay.
VECCHIO: [follows him] Where are you going?
It's probably a couple of dozen animals they load off that trailer just in this half-scene where Fraser is talking about wild horses. So if the wild-horse-theft operation is taking hundreds or thousands of them, it wouldn't take long to start making real money. When the Wild and Free-Roaming Horses and Burros Act of 1971 was passed, there were about 20,000 mustangs on federal land (in National Forests and on lands managed by the Bureau of Land Management); in 2019 the total was close to three times that. It's probably reasonable to assume that the increase was steepish once the horses were protected, so by 1994 the population was maybe in the 40k area. So Leggett would have to be operating carefully and not taking enough horses that the feds would notice.
Scene 21
Our heroes are sneaking around the meat-packing plant. There are carcasses hanging in all sorts of random places.
VECCHIO: So what's the plan? We take some pictures, ID the bad guys, and send out subpoenas, right?
FRASER: We stop them.
They hide behind a cart and look at the processing floor.
VECCHIO: There must be thirty guys.
FRASER: The tide always goes out, Ray.
VECCHIO: Yeah, and I always get sucked right out with it.
Someone moves the cart.
FRASER: Good evening. [He punches the guy who moved the cart.]
WRANGLER: [points a gun at them] Hold it.
FRASER: Better run.
The wrangler and lots of other cowboy-hatted bad guys start shooting.
VECCHIO: Yeah, what was I so worried about?
The bad guys are chasing them and shouting. All the exits are blocked, so they duck into the freezer. Vecchio pulls the door shut.
FRASER: No, no!
VECCHIO: Lock it! Lock it.
BAD GUY: We got 'em. [He slides a pin into a lock.]
FRASER: They just did. [He turns on a light. They are in a big warehouse refrigerator with many, many of animal carcasses hanging in rows.]
BAD GUY: [outside the freezer] Get Leggett on the horn.
He turns the temperature way down and flips a breaker. Inside the refrigerator, the lights go off and come on again, and Fraser and Vecchio's breath hangs in the air in front of them.
FRASER: Well, it's a dry cold.
In really dry cold air, your breath would dissipate before you could see it condense. Benton Two-Thousand-Miles-to-the-Northwest Fraser surely knows that, so he must be commenting on how quickly their breath disappears rather than on the fact that they can see it in the air at all.
Scene 22
Later, our heroes are still locked in the freezer. Vecchio is rubbing his hands together trying to get warmer.
VECCHIO: How many you think are still out there?
FRASER: I'd say all thirty.
VECCHIO: Man, what are they waiting for?
FRASER: Well, a mob can't change directions without a leader, Ray. If he was here, they would have acted already.
VECCHIO: Ah, to hell with it. [He pulls his gun.] We're breaking out of here. [He aims at the door.]
FRASER: No, I don't think that's — [Vecchio empties his clip at the inside of the freezer door, re-holsters his gun, and pulls his secondary ankle piece.] Ray, that door is galvanized steel, and I, I just — [Vecchio empties his smaller clip as well. The door does not budge.]
VECCHIO: We're dead, right?
FRASER: Not yet. We've been in here nineteen and a half minutes. The temperature is sub-zero and dropping rapidly. I'd say we have roughly thirty-seven minutes.
VECCHIO: Oh great. I'll just relax, 'cause I'm sure they'll come shoot us before then.
FRASER: You know, Ray, the Inuit have ways of dealing with extreme conditions. Ruling out cannibalism, we have two options.
VECCHIO: I can't wait to hear this.
FRASER: The first is close body contact. We hug each other tightly, exchanging body heat. That should give us ten minutes.
VECCHIO: So what's the second?
After a meaningful shot of the rows upon rows of animal carcasses, we return to Vecchio and Fraser wearing carcass jackets. Vecchio is also wearing Fraser's hat.
VECCHIO: Some people die in their sleep. Others die making love to a beautiful woman. I am going to die wrapped in meat.
FRASER: Don't talk, Ray. You're expending body heat.
VECCHIO: I'm going to freeze to death inside My Friend Flicka.
FRASER: Shh.
VECCHIO: Fraser?
FRASER: Yes, Ray? [He looks over at Vecchio, who is motionless, with no breath condensing in front of his face.] Uh-oh.
Vecchio would really rather drape himself in an animal carcass than cling to his friend and exchange body heat? Talk about your internalized homophobia. I'm going to be forced to assume the carcass-jacket option gives them more than ten extra minutes, or else why would it be preferable?
Re: My Friend Flicka—big episode for Vecchio and classic films and TV series (Barnaby Jones, Sgt. Preston of the Yukon, and now this).
Scene 23
Leggett drives up to the plant.
LEGGETT: This better be real important.
BAD GUY: We got a cop and a Mountie in the freezer.
LEGGETT: [laughing] Hey, that's what I love about the meat business. Brings something new every day. What are you doing here, Petit?
BAD GUY: He's refusing to pick up his shipment.
GROCER (PETIT): I have a chain of stores to worry about. I don't need this.
LEGGETT: Uh-huh. But everybody needs a barrel of cash, don't they, Norm? [They all go inside. Leggett looks through a peephole into the freezer and chuckles.] How long they been in there?
BAD GUY: Over an hour and a half.
LEGGETT: Oh, they're dead. Shoot 'em anyway and get 'em out of here. You got a problem, Norm?
PETIT: Sick kids, dead Mounties? Um, yeah, I'd say I've got a problem.
LEGGETT: You want out, Norm?
PETIT: Yeah.
LEGGETT: Well, why not? Plenty more supermarkets out there.
PETIT: Thanks, Vince.
LEGGETT: Okay, you got it. [Bad guy clubs Petit over the head.] I do love this business. Give him and those copsicles a ride on the conveyor. And how about doing some work around here?
Everyone gets back to work. Some guys start to hang Petit up on a meathook by the back of his jacket. Others open the freezer to get Fraser and Vecchio out.
WRANGLER: God. I have this dream about dying wrapped in frozen meat. [Couple of other guys look at him like he's nuts.]
BAD GUY: Shoot 'em!
A couple of bad guys approach Fraser and Vecchio with guns drawn. Fraser shrugs off his carcass jacket, knocks the gun out of one guy's hands, punches him out, and throws the other guy into a cart of cuts of meat. Vecchio is yelling. The speaking bad guy comes at him to pistol-whip him, but Fraser decks him too. The wrangler pulls his gun, and Fraser grabs Vecchio and turns him around so the shot hits the back of Vecchio's carcass jacket. He punches out the wrangler.
VECCHIO: They shot me!
FRASER: [hustling Vecchio out of the freezer] The bullet couldn't penetrate the frozen meat.
VECCHIO: Why'd you have to — you used me as a human shield!
They shut the bad guys in the freezer.
VECCHIO: I can't believe you did that!
FRASER: Quiet! [He turns the temperature back to refrigerating rather than freezing; then he sees Petit swinging from a meathook.] Come on.
VECCHIO: Hey!
FRASER: Sorry.
He comes back to Vecchio, reclaims his hat, and un-bundles him from his carcass jacket and skirt. They run up the stairs to where the hook is taking Petit.
VECCHIO: Oh, God, oh, God.
FRASER: Keep moving, Ray.
VECCHIO: Oh, God, ugh, ugh, ugh, ugh.
Vecchio makes it up one flight of stairs and sits down on the landing to rest. Fraser reaches the next level and starts punching out bad guys one at a time. Chase music is playing and horses are whinnying; this is the slaughter level. After Fraser takes care of two or three guys, Vecchio gets up and goes to join him. Fraser grabs a zip line of some kind and swings down to kick a guy into a horse stall. A couple of guys take Petit down from the meathook and lay him on the conveyor, which is going to take him through the grinder. Fraser punches out another guy and shuts down the motor on the conveyor.
LEGGETT: [racking a long gun] That's it, you are dead.
VECCHIO: I don't think so.
He cuts off Leggett's gun with a bone saw. Fraser takes what's left of the gun and punches Leggett. Leggett runs to open a door marked "office," and Diefenbaker jumps at him, snarling, and knocks him down.
LEGGETT: Get this thing off of me.
FRASER: You should be nicer to animals.
Because of course Diefenbaker didn't stay in the car.
Anyway: So Leggett had no qualms about putting human meat in with his horse-and-beef mixture, eh? To say nothing of human bone, hair, and clothing? I'd say he was just doing that to dispose of the bodies, but it would ruin several thousand dollars' worth of meat he was trying to sell to supermarkets, wouldn't it? (I mean if it was just meat, he wouldn't care, he'd absolutely sell it and not tell anyone there was human in it. But I feel like the hair and fabric would cause trouble.)
Scene 24
At Fraser's building. He is coming up the stairs with a box of kitchen stuff; Miss Cabot is painting a wall in the entryway of apartment 2C.
FRASER: Well, that's the last of it.
MRS. GAMEZ: Let me take it.
FRASER: No, no, no. I've got it.
MRS. GAMEZ: I want to thank you again for making this possible.
MISS CABOT: It was no trouble.
MRS. GAMEZ: And I really want to thank him for everything he has done. In fact, I want to give him a big hug, but I'm afraid I will wrinkle him.
MISS CABOT: I know what you mean.
FRASER: [sweeping his way out of the apartment with a broom] All right, I put the photographs on the mantel —
SUPER: [coming down the hallway] Nice job. [to Mrs. Gamez] Now, don't forget, it's four hundred and twenty-five dollars, beginning of the month.
FRASER: Didn't you say three hundred and seventy-five?
SUPER: Yeah, well, I . . . was adding on for utilities and —
FRASER: Oh, I thought you said that the utilities were included.
SUPER: Yeah. [as he is leaving] I had to rent to a Mountie. Bye.
MRS. GAMEZ: I am sorry, I just can't help myself. [She hugs Fraser tightly, and he hugs her back.] Thank you. Thank you for my children.
FRASER: No, no, no. you don't have to thank me.
Stop for a moment to imagine how crappy the Gamezes' previous building must have been if Fraser's building is a step up. (Even though the apartments don't have their own bathrooms.) Anyway, I guess proving that she's leaving the place with no hot water and the broken fridge and evidence of vermin is enough to convince DCFS that the kids will be safe in the new place, so she gets them back and that's the end of that? Seems like further evidence that DCFS should be mad at the previous landlord and not at the mother, but the family is back together, so never mind, I guess.
"Don't forget," the super says, as if Mrs. Gamez may not know how to pay rent on time. Fuck that. Fuck everyone who patronizes her, a single mom getting it done in a second language; she's way more competent than any of them give her credit for. Even Fraser, to be honest, calling her by her first name when he doesn't even ask Miss Cabot hers, whom he knows only slightly and socially, all leave it to me and I promise it will be all right. Feh.
It sure looks to me like when she's talking to Mrs. Gamez, Miss Cabot leans against the wall she just finished painting. Maybe she hasn't done this before. But I do like that she's spending some of her daddy's money on helping people in addition to saving horses. Attagirl.
I grant that 1994 was a long time ago and I've never rented property in Chicago, but $375/month including utilities for what I assume is at least a two-bedroom apartment shocks me. In 1998ish, I'm pretty sure my college roommate's boyfriend and his housemate were paying $1000/month for a two-bedroom basement in DC, presumably including utilities because people who rented out their basements didn't get separate meters for those apartments. This was a better part of Washington than we are given to understand is Fraser's part of Chicago, but still, that rent boggles my mind. (Charlie Pike's rent is more than $200, but he didn't say how much more; he may have a 2BR or he may have just one bedroom for Lucy and he sleeps in the living room, yeah? Fraser has no bedrooms, and his utilities are not included. So I'm a little puzzled by the different lease arrangements in the same building.) (Here's a thing that says in 1990 the median gross rent in Illinois was $445 and in 2000 was $605, so split the difference and add a bit because Chicago, and maybe a "normal" rent would be something like $550? This is across all home sizes, mind. People who have rented in Chicago are welcome to weigh in.)
Scene 25
On the stairs up to the third floor, Vecchio is talking to Mario Gamez.
MARIO: He used you as a human shield?
VECCHIO: Yeah, and there was just two inches of frozen pinto between me and the bullet.
MARIO: Wow! Then what happened?
FRASER: Uh, Ray? We have to get that trailer back.
MARIO: I only wish I could hear more about your adventures as a police officer.
VECCHIO: Well, I'd like that too. Good luck with your new apartment, Mrs. Gamez.
MRS. GAMEZ: Thank you.
VECCHIO: And Mario, you stay in school. [He heads over to the stairs down to the first floor.]
FRASER: [to Mario] Thanks. I think you really made his day.
MARIO: It's okay. He actually was interesting.
FRASER: Really? Hm. [to Mrs. Gamez and Miss Cabot] Well — goodbye.
MISS CABOT: I'm going riding tomorrow morning. You up for it?
FRASER: You mean to discuss your testimony?
MISS CABOT: Yeah.
FRASER: Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to.
MISS CABOT: Great!
FRASER: [hands her Mrs. Gamez's broom] Goodbye.
Fraser and Vecchio head down the stairs.
VECCHIO: I still can't believe you did that.
FRASER: It was perfectly safe, Ray.
VECCHIO: Oh yeah. What, did you practice it on your last partner, Billy "Swiss Cheese" MacAllister?
FRASER: Well, granted, it was an unusual tactic, but I got the notion from a young cadet who lashed a caribou to his chest. Unfortunately, it was unrelated to police work.
Oh, Fraser. Here he is again, not understanding—or, almost certainly, pretending not to understand—what a woman is talking about when she lets him know she's interested in him. I'll go ahead and believe that he was unfamiliar with "come-on" as a vocabulary item, and/so he may not have realized that Miss Cabot thought he was coming on to her in the first place. But he knew "Do you come here often?" was a line, even though he didn't mean it as one, and he must have realized she was flirting with him on that early morning ride, so he must realize that when she asks him out riding again she is asking him out. Which is why he suggests she must mean she wants to discuss her testimony. And like Julie Frobisher, she goes with it—which makes him feel safe enough to go ahead and make the date. So that's something. He doesn't feel like he has to flee from her. But it's pretty clear to me that after the effort they made in the pilot to show us chemistry between Fraser and Constable Brighton, they have pivoted to showing us a Fraser who is extremely uncomfortable with attention from attractive women. Hmmm.
(Meanwhile, nobody in the episode ever uses Miss Cabot's first name, so I would be free to assume it is Helen and she goes on to marry Matthew Santos, USMC, and eventually becomes First Lady of the United States—if the Santoses hadn't been married for 15 years by 2006. Ah well.)
They Shoot Horses, Don't They? is a 1969 film in which, after a couple leave a sadistic dance marathon because they realize there's no way to win, the woman wants to end her life but can't quite manage to shoot herself, so she begs the man to do it for her, which he does. I haven't seen it, but it sounds to me like its descendant is The Hunger Games more than this episode, and once again the title is all the episode has in common with its referent.
Cumulative confirmed body count: 5
Red uniform: Guard duty, investigative work coming straight off guard duty
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I make meatloaf out of a blend of ground raw meat made for that purpose.
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