"Missing children, you say? I can check on it, sir, before I head home," offered the detective. Everyone knew his soft spot for children despite his overly formal appearance.
''All right then. Doesn't sound too serious. Back here tomorrow, you can tell me what you've found. Higgins … go along, just in case there's more to it," the inspector added almost as an afterthought.
oOoOo
"Henry, I shall go ahead on my bicycle." Looking up at the sky, Murdoch grabbed two rain slickers, threw one to the constable and added, "You might bring the carriage or I can give you fare for a cab; it looks like this weather could get rough. We won't want to get caught in the storms. Will you join Julia and me at the hotel for dinner afterward?"
"Thank you for both offers, Sir, but I do have plans after we finish tonight," replied the garrulous constable. "I'll hitch Aurelius and be along presently."
As the detective glided along the streets and around corners, winds picked up, and a cold rain started to fall heavily. He picked up speed when the skies began to shake with thunder.
Higgins pulled up and left the police carriage at the corner post, joining Murdoch at the outside stairway to reach the second floor apartment between the third floor photography studio and ground floor shop. The rain had tapered, but the two men stood sopping as they identified themselves. Murdoch entered, removing his slicker and hung it on one of the pegs by the door next to a jacket and a floral shawl. He wanted to avoid dripping all through the place during his investigation. Higgins stayed on the covered landing just outside the open door.
Worried parents Michel and Annette Colbert reported that their two young sons, ages 7 and 8, had been sent upstairs to clean their father's workshop shortly after lunch and had not been heard from since that time. Yes, they were usually reliable and wandered off rarely but never during such stormy weather. No, they seemed to have several good friends among the other children on the lane and often went to the nearby park together once chores were completed, but the parents, relatively new to the neighborhood, were uncertain of the friends' names.
During the conversation, Murdoch noticed Monsieur's accent and Madame's discomfort and decided to try French for the next question. The Colbert's seemed to relax slightly. "Have you asked neighbors along the street to see if the boys were playing in some friends' home and stayed when the rain began to fall?"
"Honestly, the boys have not been so late before so we had not thought to ask. Also it seems so difficult to understand the English and to endure the suspicions of the neighbors who do not understand us."
Murdoch signaled Higgins to check only the closest homes for the time being. As the constable departed, the detective asked to see the boys' belongings and was pleasantly surprised by the neatness, with the exception of a two foot long toy chest into which favorite belongings seemed piled indiscriminately. He noticed a book by Robert Louis Stephenson thrown in haphazardly and then took a moment to study a few drawings scattered across a small table. Again in French, he asked the parents if anything appeared to be missing, but they could think of nothing at the moment, other than the boys' caps.
Finally, the detective asked to see the workrooms and shop, and Mr. Colbert led him to an interior back stairway which connected the floors and led the way upward. The storm had quieted somewhat, but lightning still flashed with decreasing frequency, intermittently illuminating the studio and indicating the darkroom and storage cupboards. The two men glanced around the room, and Murdoch stepped toward a broom and dustpan curiously left on the floor near the camera on its tripod. As he stooped to extend a finger into the dustpan, an extraordinarily bright flash accompanied by immediate thunder lit the room startling him into jostling the heavy apparatus. He barely had time to register Mr. Colbert's cry as Murdoch himself broke the delicate camera's fall – with his head and shoulder.
oOoOo
"William," Dr. Ogden whispered with relief as the detective moaned and tried to lift himself to his elbow. She pressed him gently back, fluffing the pillow under his head. "Not yet, you've been unconscious for an hour since Higgins and I brought you home," she continued gently stroking his hair.
As he opened his warm brown eyes, trying to assure her with a chuckle, he suggested, "You really should have the lamps turned up, Julia; a warm glow would be much more welcoming." He reached where he expected her hand to be without finding it, and concerned looks flashed across both their faces.
"They are lit, rather brightly, too," she countered, gently but firmly placing her hand in his. "Do you remember what happened?"
Closing his eyes again, he recited, "Henry and I were checking on some missing boys. He had gone to check with neighbors while their father and I looked for suggestions of their disappearance in the photography studio. I was checking a small pile of dust under the camera tripod, when the lightning surprised me … Oh, no … Did I damage the camera?"
"No, just yourself, Dear," she chuckled back at him. "Perhaps more than I'd thought at first. Open those eyes for me again. I need to check something." She leaned down gently peering into his eyes, stroking his cheek and giving him a kiss he took a moment too long to recognize was coming.
He retreated slightly, and asked worriedly, "Julia, why can't I see?"
