- Author's notes -

Outsider Point of View. Inspired by season 7 episode 8 'Republic of Murdoch,' where Henry has to decipher a clue and George helps him 'scramble' through the letters to form words. This is also posted on Archive of Our Own.

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Hodges greeted me as I entered Station House 4, "Hello Dr. Ogden. Detective Murdoch isn't back yet."

I answered, "Good day Constable. That's fine. I'll just wait for him in his office."

I went into William's office. The familiar assortment of experiments and evidence lay about the room. There was a rack with test tubes on the center table, surrounded by bottles and various mechanical parts. Crates with files were in one corner of the room and a barrel of broken pottery was in another. It smelled like machine oil, chalk, and paper.

I took a seat and gazed across the lobby through the plate glass window. Inspector Brackenreid was not in his office, but I saw Constable Higgins pouring over something at his desk. From the exasperated look on his face, I imagined the constable must have been working on some puzzling evidence. He picked up two small scraps of paper, examined them and scrunched up his face in concentration. Then he sighed and set the bits of paper back down. I thought to myself, 'Poor Constable Higgins.' He looked frustrated and probably had been at his task for hours.

The main doors opened and Constable Crabtree breezed in. He took off his helmet and tucked it under his arm. I was about to greet him, but he took one look at Higgins bent over the desk, smiled in a satisfied way, and went directly over to stand next to his friend. I kept still in my seat and watched them.

He peered down at the desk, "How's it going Henry?" I heard Crabtree ask.

Higgins sighed, "I've gotten a few of the pieces of the letter placed properly, but at this rate, I think this is going to take me days." He complained, "George, why does Murdoch ask me to do these kinds of mind-numbing jobs? I'm the one who pours over fingerprint cards for hours. I'm the one who paints shades of gray onto a huge canvas grid. I get to dig through hundreds of newspaper articles for some odd event that happened decades ago." He looked over at the front desk, "Hodges gets to read the paper while waiting for the telephone to ring." He turned to look at Crabtree, "You get to enjoy the fresh air while questioning the neighborhood." He gestured to the mess on his desk, "I get to go cross-eyed staring at pieces of paper that make no sense." He shook his head and leaned back in his chair.

Crabtree countered, trying to encourage him, "You've got the wrong attitude Henry. Why not think of it as a game?" He bent over the desk and said, "Look, this is just like a jigsaw puzzle. You've got to start with the border and work your way in." Crabtree quickly arranged some of the pieces of paper, "Like this, and this, and here."

I heard the telephone at the front desk ring and looked over to see Hodges balance the receiver against his ear while frantically taking notes.

I looked back the the two constables at their desk. I saw Higgins shake his head in frustration as his friend rearranged the evidence. Higgins looked like he was about to say something angry to Crabtree, but then a smile crept onto his face. I saw his hand reach around and with two fingers and a thumb, he pinched Crabtree's back side.

My jaw dropped and I put my hand over my face. I could hardly believe it.

Crabtree gasped and straightened up. He caught Higgins's hand in his own and glared at him. "Oy, Henry!" he hissed in annoyance.

Higgins answered him with a wicked grin.

I saw Crabtree's look of affronted surprise transform to resignation and then settle into a playful, lopsided smile. He changed his grip to more gentle hold and slowly placed his friend's hand back onto the desk. Crabtree covered Higgins's hand with his own and continued to look down at the other constable. Mischievous smiles mirrored their faces, as if they'd forgotten where they were and what they'd been doing. I realized there had always been this easy, playful intimacy between them.

Crabtree looked smug, "You'll pay for that ... latter." I could barely make out the whispered words.

Then the front doors opened and William walked in. Crabtree straightened up and placed both hands squarely on his belt.

Hodges set down the receiver for a moment, looked up from his notes, and said, "Dr. Odgen's waiting for you in your office Detective Murdoch." Then the constable went back to the telephone call.

Hearing Hodges's words, Crabtree and Higgins whipped around to look at me. It was plain from their expressions that they hadn't realized I was near and that I'd had a clear view of their exchange.

I stood up, smiled warmly and greeted William. His usual conservative composure was highlighted with a bit of color and I guessed he'd just come from his bicycle.

When he saw me, concern tightened his face, "You came to see me Julia? Is something wrong?"

I reassured him, "It's nothing serious. My sister is in town unexpectedly and I wanted to let you know I'll be dining with her."

He relaxed and I couldn't resist asking, "You have Higgins working on some puzzling evidence? Perhaps I can be of some assistance?" I was curious to see what Higgins and Crabtree had been toying with.

William nodded, surprised at my offer, but he graciously answered, "Certainly."

We walked over to the desk where Higgins was seated. The two constables radiated guilt as I approached but said nothing. I looked down at the array of tiny pieces of paper, mostly arranged into, what appeared to be, a letter. It seemed like the puzzle had been sorted out.

William exclaimed, "You figured out the message!" He took a moment to read the letter and said more seriously, "This implicates the tinsmith." Then he beamed at Higgins, "Excellent work, Henry. I knew I could count on you."

Higgins answered uncertainly, "Thank you, sir."

"Yes, good work Henry," Crabtree agreed with an absolutely straight face.

I wanted to laugh out loud, tried to stifle my amusement, and instead made a sound like a strangled sneeze. William caught my odd expression and asked, "What is it Julia?"

Higgins immediately looked down at the paper desk with intense concentration. Crabtree clasped his hands behind his back, stared straight ahead, and rocked back and forth on his feet.

I smoothed my face, took a breath and answered innocently, "Oh, nothing."

I could tell William was not convinced and was about to ask something more, but then,

Crabtree spoke up, "Does this mean we head back to Grosvenor Street, to the tinsmith, sir?"

William's attention snapped back to the case, "Yes, George, right away." He turned to Higgins, "And, Henry, come too."

We said our goodbyes and the constables quickly turned to leave. As he put his helmet back on, I caught Crabtree's eye and winked at at him. He nodded slightly and shot me a knowing smile as he walked out with Higgins by his side.