Which are you more afraid of: being too gullible or too skeptical?
"Does the word 'sap' mean anything to you, Benny?"
"Of course it does. It's from the Latin 'sapire'."
"It is?"
"Don't be a sap, Ray."
When I first met Ray Kowalski, I was extremely skeptical.
You see, I was taking a vacation in the Northwest Territories when I received a phone call from my partner, Ray Vecchio. Out of friendship, he explained, he felt obliged to let me know that he would be unable to meet me at the train station upon my return to Chicago. He told me -- and I'm quite certain I remember the conversation accurately -- that I might be on my own for a while. At that point I had no reason to suspect he meant longer than the morning, the day at most. Given the time it took Diefenbaker and I to walk from the station to our home, as well as to attend to the matter of said home having burned to the ground, I was quite certain Ray Vecchio would have had ample opportunity to fulfill his obligation and return to the squad room. I was very much looking forward to our reunion. I had a gift for him.
I was met by a stranger. A stranger who hugged me, called me "buddy" and informed me in no uncertain terms that he was, in fact, Ray Vecchio.
Ray Vecchio and I, I don't mind telling you, scarcely ever hugged.
As I said, I was, for obvious reasons, extremely skeptical. More so for the fact that no member of the Major Crimes Division (all of whom had worked closely with Ray Vecchio and myself, and all of whom appeared to be exactly who they had been before I left for my vacation) joined me in challenging his statements. How they all could have fallen under the spell of this individual was beyond my comprehension, but nonetheless the task seemed to fall to me alone to prove that he was not who he claimed to be.
I'll admit I employed a certain measure of artifice. I'm not proud, but it did seem necessary.
I obtained his fingerprints, a mould of his teeth, his shoe size... all the while quizzing him about case details and the minutiae of Ray Vecchio's life.
I measured the man's nose.
The evidence was overwhelming. I presented it to Lieutenant Welsh. To this day, I'm not entirely sure what I expected. Perhaps that it had been some kind of test, that he might shake my hand and tell me I'd done well, well enough to have my friend back. Instead he simply lowered his voice, in the confines of his own closed office, and told me the truth.
As it happened, if I had shared my suspicions with the wrong person or pulled the wrong file, I could have placed Ray Vecchio's life in considerable danger. On this occasion, while entertaining my skepticism, I had indeed missed something very important. For several hours. But, I assure you, a lesson was learned.
"Of course it does. It's from the Latin 'sapire'."
"It is?"
"Don't be a sap, Ray."
When I first met Ray Kowalski, I was extremely skeptical.
You see, I was taking a vacation in the Northwest Territories when I received a phone call from my partner, Ray Vecchio. Out of friendship, he explained, he felt obliged to let me know that he would be unable to meet me at the train station upon my return to Chicago. He told me -- and I'm quite certain I remember the conversation accurately -- that I might be on my own for a while. At that point I had no reason to suspect he meant longer than the morning, the day at most. Given the time it took Diefenbaker and I to walk from the station to our home, as well as to attend to the matter of said home having burned to the ground, I was quite certain Ray Vecchio would have had ample opportunity to fulfill his obligation and return to the squad room. I was very much looking forward to our reunion. I had a gift for him.
I was met by a stranger. A stranger who hugged me, called me "buddy" and informed me in no uncertain terms that he was, in fact, Ray Vecchio.
Ray Vecchio and I, I don't mind telling you, scarcely ever hugged.
As I said, I was, for obvious reasons, extremely skeptical. More so for the fact that no member of the Major Crimes Division (all of whom had worked closely with Ray Vecchio and myself, and all of whom appeared to be exactly who they had been before I left for my vacation) joined me in challenging his statements. How they all could have fallen under the spell of this individual was beyond my comprehension, but nonetheless the task seemed to fall to me alone to prove that he was not who he claimed to be.
I'll admit I employed a certain measure of artifice. I'm not proud, but it did seem necessary.
I obtained his fingerprints, a mould of his teeth, his shoe size... all the while quizzing him about case details and the minutiae of Ray Vecchio's life.
I measured the man's nose.
The evidence was overwhelming. I presented it to Lieutenant Welsh. To this day, I'm not entirely sure what I expected. Perhaps that it had been some kind of test, that he might shake my hand and tell me I'd done well, well enough to have my friend back. Instead he simply lowered his voice, in the confines of his own closed office, and told me the truth.
As it happened, if I had shared my suspicions with the wrong person or pulled the wrong file, I could have placed Ray Vecchio's life in considerable danger. On this occasion, while entertaining my skepticism, I had indeed missed something very important. For several hours. But, I assure you, a lesson was learned.