Pan-Am Murdoch
Author's notes:
1) You just gotta know William Murdoch could not have brought himself to bypass the 1901 Pan American Exposition in Buffalo, as the whole center-piece of the Pan Am was all about electricity & electrical inventions etc.
2) There was a drastic and unexplained shift in the relationship (again!) after the Loch Ness episode: things heat up and then rapidly dissipate, so why? This story, the "Lost Episode," is my answer to that as well as his true motivation for why he threw himself off the bridge after Gillies.
3) Thank you to my beta-reader, "Dutch," who suggested the Pan Am as an episode venue and then convinced me length in service of the story is not so bad, and made the story better with comments and suggestions.
4) Please read and review as only a little encouragement keeps me going!
Chapter 1
Friday 6/28/1901
"Murdoch—get in here!" Inspector Thomas Brackenreid bellowed across the bull pen over to his detective's open door. He slammed the earpiece of the telephone down in disgust, and heard the clattering of Murdoch's Oliver Standard Writer abruptly cease.
Detective William Murdoch, shirt-sleeves still rolled up, walked into the office to stand in front of his superior's desk.
"Yes, sir?" he inquired suspiciously. It was never a good sign when the phone rang and afterwards he was summoned into Brackenreid's office, and told to close the door behind him.
"Someone's requested your presence, Detective, someone high up who won't even tell me why or what for. So I wonder. What the deuce you have been up to now?" Brackenreid's chair creaked as he rose.
"Sir? What are you talking about?" William asked, buying time to figure out if there was something he could be in trouble for, but came up empty.
"You have been summoned, me ole' mucker, to this address. Very hush-hush. You are to pack up your murder kit, this list of items, and tell no one where you are going or even that you have gone." He made a face, his skin getting redder by the second. "And I must be your bloody secretary! I suggest you pack up your spare shirt and shoes as well since you will not have time to go home to change." The inspector handed William a piece of paper. "You are to leave your badge, wallet and watch here; take nothing that identifies you."
"Sir, this is impossible, outrageous," William bristled, hoping that by appealing to the inspector he could forestall this. "What about my cases? What about telling…." What about telling Julia so she does not think I have disappeared on her again.
"That has apparently been taken care of too. I am to tell people you have been summoned to Winnipeg and will be back in two weeks." Brackenreid put his hands in his pockets and leaned forward, boring into the other man's face. "What the bloody hell is going on?"
"I have no idea…Two weeks! But sir, my arrangements for the Pan American Exhibition next week. Everything is paid for…."
"Not up to me. You have either pissed on someone's parade and this is punishment or someone thinks you are the answer to a problem they have." The inspector checked his watch, the chain swinging. "You better leave now, because you have to be there by 5:15. I suggest a cab…"
William patted his pockets and looked pained. "Um, sir, I don't have…."
"Bloody hell, so now you are taking my money too?" He fished into petty cash and drew out most of it to hand to the detective. He accepted Murdoch's personal effects in return, promising them safekeeping. "I will need a receipt for the money. Now, get out of here. Go!" Brackenreid stared at the other man, willing him to leave. Stunts like this get people hurt, thought the inspector. I hope someone knows what they are doing.
The detective dithered for another moment and then stalked off to his office, reviewing the list of required items. He tidied his desk a bit, and put notes on files for Constable Crabtree, since he will have to take over abruptly. He went to a set of drawers, grabbed his spare shaving kit, fresh clothing and boots, and jammed them into a duffel, before putting his sleeves down, cufflinks in, and his suit jacket back on. He added items to his equipment case as he checked them off the list and closed it. Finding his hat, he left the station, counting out the money the inspector gave him, hoping it was enough for whatever was required. He sent a prayer that Julia would be understanding, but for himself he was livid. He had made elaborate plans to propose to her during the Pan American and those plans were now officially shredded.
Damn, he cursed, and did not even feel guilty for the blasphemy.
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Julia was fuming. Inspector Brackenreid telephoned her just before she was getting ready to leave work, to tell her that the trip William had planned for them in Buffalo next week was cancelled, as the detective was being packed off to Winnipeg, of all places. Something about a connection to a series of murders.
I would have preferred if William would have spoken with me directly. He had been going on and on about the Pan American Exhibition for months and specifically the Miracle of Electricity exhibit for weeks, with tickets to view the power stations in Niagara Falls on both sides of the border too. That man is obsessed with electricity and electrical gadgets, she thought. He will be so disappointed.
Going with William was supposed to be a break from James Gillies' appeal as it dragged on. The legal process, the best his family money could buy, would only postpone the inevitable, but when she thought about it too closely she could barely draw breath. Until he was finally hanged, Julia felt she was in suspended animation, unable to move forward. William calling off the trip meant she was suddenly with time off and no plans and no diversion, unless she wanted to go to the Exhibition by herself. She certainly had no appetite for social calls while in Buffalo. She was interested in the medical exhibits, the x-ray machine and the infant incubators, and she reasoned that in a crowd as large as the Pan Am Exhibition, no one would know or care that she was a notorious widow. Unfortunately, William had all the tickets and arrangements in his possession, and for some apparent reason did not leave them for her. She wondered at the expense and if he got his money back for cancelling.
Or I can give in and call Ruby. Her sister had been in Buffalo for weeks visiting friends and completing a series of writing assignments. If I call her, maybe she will take in some of the sights with me. Julia considered the pros and cons and decided it would be fun to have more time with her sister, and conversely, she could finally fulfill a long-awaited and painful promise to herself. Now where did I put that number?
Julia put the call through and was pleased that her sister rang back almost immediately. "Julia, is that you? Our connection is terrible… are you still in Toronto?" Julia could barely make out her sister's voice on the long distance call.
"Yes, Ruby. My plans have changed. William and I can't come to Buffalo next week, but I wondered if I can visit with you instead."
"Oh, Jules, I am so sorry about your trip. But, yes, please do come. How long can you stay?" Ruby inquired.
"A few days it least. I am sorry this is so last minute, but William has been sent out of town and I thought this way I could spend more time with you."
Ruby answered: "That will be splendid. Don't wait until Monday, as I have tomorrow and Sunday free. Why don't you take the night train and I will meet you in the morning? You can even stay with me. My host and hostess are dear people, and I am sure they won't mind—there are two beds in my room. Do come. And bring your party clothes. You won't recognize Buffalo- I'm sure you will be delighted. Will you come tonight?"
Her doldrums perked up a bit at Ruby's enthusiastic staccato delivery and Julia decided it would be a relief to be spontaneous. "Yes, I will come assuming I can get a train ticket. I will call if I cannot, but otherwise I will see you in the morning."
"I will make all the other arrangements. The train arrives at 8:00 am – look for me at the station. Oh, Jules, this will be so much fun! We can spend two days exploring the exhibits and I can be your guide. I am so happy you called. See you tomorrow."
"See you in the morning," said Julia as she rang off with a satisfied smile. She picked up the telephone again and called the train station, securing passage for the night train and looked at the clock on her desk. Since most of her packing was already prepared she just needed to throw in a few last minute things and arrange her carriage. She could sleep on the train, just like she used to do between Toronto and Montreal while she was at school. Seeing Ruby is just what the doctor ordered!
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William's hansom brought him to Toronto's rail hub, by a warehouse that appeared to be closed and locked. He surveyed the perimeter, found nothing of significance and tried to consult his non-existent watch. Frustrated, he spied a local clock tower whose hands read 5:15. It occurred to him that this may be a bad joke or an attempt at misdirection, and he became, by turns, worried and very annoyed. On his second circuit of the building a boy approached him, asking for "the frog." William assumed that meant him and took the boy's note. The lad hung around, hoping for a tip which William tossed (from Brackenreid's money), and the boy caught the coin neatly before fleeing.
The note told him to get onto boxcar number GW4386. William looked down the lines of cars, and saw that several trains were moving. He hoped that the delay in receiving the note didn't mean that the car he was supposed to be on had left, when out of the corner of his eye he found the proper car, and noted it was starting to move. He darted to the track, shoved his luggage into the opening and hoisted himself while the train was creeping slowly. The car was loaded with crates and boxes, all stamped "Dominion of Canada" and out of curiosity he started inspecting them. Suddenly the door slammed shut, and he heard what sounded like a lock snicking closed through the hasp. Hauling on the door, pounding and shouting did nothing helpful, so he found a box to sit on and settled in.
If I am being kidnapped, I walked right into it. He already smelled a certain rat behind these machinations and wondered where this case (and he) were heading.
# # #
William slept fitfully in the boxcar, his only comfort was imagining Julia wrapping her arms around him and saying "Yes!" to his marriage proposal. When I ever get to make it! he grumbled to himself as he drifted off. He woke when he thought it was probably after midnight, missing his watch again for confirmation. It troubled him more than a little that he had no identification. Well, my finger marks are on file just in case, he thought rather morbidly. He heard the change in the rhythm of the tracks as the train slowed, sounding like it was going over a long trestle bridge. The brakes sung and slowed the train even further before his car stopped, was uncoupled and shunted to a siding. Given his estimate of the time and relative speed of the train, a quick formula told him there was only one place he could be— over the International Railroad Bridge into Buffalo New York.
Well, it looks like I am coming to the Pan American Exposition after all. He rolled his eyes in frustration. Couldn't we have done this a different way? e expected
The door opened much later, on an angry, impatient detective. He had gotten a sliver of wood in his leg from the crate he sat on, making a hole in the trousers of his dark brown suit that he hoped his tailor could repair. Lights from the Pan American penetrated the darkness. He had heard the illuminated Electric Tower could be seen for 20 miles, and by what he saw from his location by the Niagara River, he was sure that was accurate.
A man stood there, wordlessly motioning to William to get out, and pointed to a waiting carriage. The area was otherwise deserted. The breeze is at least welcoming, he observed. Since he did not know how long this next leg of the journey was going to be, he first found an outhouse and used it gratefully. William's luggage and several boxes were taken off the train car and loaded into the carriage with him. The driver never even asked "Where to, sir?", and treated this as if it was an everyday occurrence, and for all William knew, to the driver it might be. Before getting onto his perch, the driver gave him a lantern, and curtly told him to open the top box, and follow instructions.
William decided to go along with all of this for no other reason than his interest was piqued, while finding the whole thing more than a little ridiculous. He was once again in a closed space, as the carriage was heavily curtained. In the box was a set of men's business clothing: trousers, vest, shirt, coat, cravat, and a large hat; gloves, glasses and watch were provided also. At the bottom was a set of theatrical whiskers and adhesive.
Fascinating. How am I supposed to put this on in a rolling carriage with no mirror and poor light? He almost refused to continue, as he was tired and cross.
The streets were smooth enough and the carriage was well-sprung, so that changing his clothes and applying the facial hair was not completely impossible in the cramped space. He hoped the mutton chops, mustache and beard were even-enough for the darkness outside, especially since he needed his own shave too. He would have liked to have experienced more of the night air and view the city rather than being cooped up behind the curtains.
He calculated he was traveling south for some distance, therefore towards the city center. He could hear snatches of music and noises of people on the street. The carriage eventually made two sharp lefts relatively close together, and stopped.
Now what? he wondered, so he opened the door, looked around and got out. The breeze had died down and the air was calm and warm. His destination proved to be a three story gabled Italianate brick home with a deep porch. It appeared to have been converted into a library of some kind as he could make out a sign that said "Reading Room." Strangely, lights were showing in several windows even at this late hour. Across the street, beautifully dressed men and women laughed as they streamed out of a courtyard after what must have been a grand dance or ball, into a line of waiting conveyances.
A large, elegantly-uniformed gentleman appeared by the carriage. The man said, rather loudly, "Good to have you home, sir. I hope your trip was satisfactory," as if he had expected William, and reached to take his case and duffel from him. William reluctantly surrendered them. The driver said he would bring the boxes to the rear and left before William could pay him. It seems he was already remunerated. Fine, I need the money, he groused.
Shrugging the knots out of his back and neck, he settled his hat and walked behind the servant up the porch steps and in through carved oak and glass coffin-doors, as if he knew what he was doing. Brackenreid would be much more comfortable playing this role, whatever it is. And I'm dressed just like him….Well, in for a penny…
He entered a tiled and muraled reception room. A dark-haired women approached him with a rustle of fabric, from behind and to his left, through an opening in the double doors to the adjoining room. "Good evening. Please come into the parlour, you must be tired." She paused, examined his face closely, dropped her smile and replaced it with a shocked look.
She said, "William? What in Heaven?"
