"Conversation II"
William comes home to Julia….. Takes place immediately after George Crabtree is arrested and jailed for murder.
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Toronto, late November, 10:00 PM
William glanced up and saw the lamps shining from the rooms he shared with his wife, spying her figure pacing back and forth while throwing shadows on the thin curtains. Falling snow muffled Toronto's constant noises and amplified the lights' glow through the large, frost-edged windows. The drapery twitched and her shadow retreated, indicating Julia saw his approach and was going to wait by their door. For a spilt second his heart lifted in its usual manner when he anticipated seeing her, and then the dread of his day reasserted itself as he crossed the street to climb the sheltered entrance of the Windsor Hotel. He brought himself from Station House No 4 and up to three flights of stairs using sheer will power - putting one foot in front of the other over and over again until he arrived, hoping the long walk in the cold would bring him out of his morbid mood. Once home he dropped his arms by his sides, dejectedly sagging forward into his wife's embrace.
Julia read the pain on her husband's face when he came through the door, and guessed he wanted to assure himself of their connection her before explaining what had happened with George. As usual his arms encircled her, pulling her even closer, but he made no move to talk or even look at her. As deeply troubled as her own heart was, her imagination sketched the effects on William from having to do his duty today. They stood for a long time in the low light of their suite, the snow that was sprinkled on his coat melting rapidly. Julia knew better than to pester him with questions right away, happy to just hold him closely and tenderly until he was ready. The case clock ticked off more seconds and then chimed the quarter hour as they clung together.
Eventually, William felt his wife pulling the maroon scarf from around his neck and take his hat, and then the weight of his wool coat sliding off his shoulders. He numbly let the garment go but did not move as she hung it up, merely awaiting her return. Without his overcoat on William could feel the gentle warmth of Julia's body, her touch on his neck, but the heaviness on his shoulders continued unrelieved. He merely sighed her name.
She answered: "William, come to bed." Julia led him soundlessly to their bedroom to prepare for sleep. She helped him with his jacket and the rest of his clothing, until they were both naked and buried under blankets and counterpane. He did not break the quiet but turned out the light and found her mouth with his.
Kissing her desperately, he felt her body rise to join his, responsive and willing. Unspeaking, William's sharp need for solace was channeled into rapidly spending himself in her depths, the stillness shattered by a loud groan he made in climax. He collapsed next to her before turning to apologize, but she hushed him in reassurance, kissing him back into silence before placing her head on his chest to better wrap him in her arms. As he lay next to her, tucking her even more tightly to his side while his heart rate calmed, he was grateful Julia made no protest about his uncharacteristic selfishness, allowing this comfort tonight. He breathed in the scent of her hair and stroked her blonde head distractedly. Unfortunately his mind was not any clearer.
Julia, for her part, was content to let William have what he required at the moment and trust in their marriage. She had only seen him like this one time before - slowly understanding her husband's process and assuming he could not put thoughts properly into words yet. She waited until the remainder of his physical tension seemed to soften and his ragged breathing normalize before stirring to take his face in her hands. "William? Do you want to talk about it?" she asked softly.
William's arms tightened briefly before he let out a sigh. "Yes, I suppose I do. But not here." He pulled away from her, got up and offered her a robe, before going to the bathroom to wash and re-dress himself. Julia put her nightclothes on and covered up with her dressing gown, bringing a blanket to the settee in the living room before calling the desk to ask for tea to be sent up to their suite.
William emerged from the bathroom dressed again in his some of his street clothes—shirt and trousers, and retrieved the tea when staff knocked at their door. He set the tray on the table and poured a cup for Julia and one for himself, sitting down next to her and sharing out the blanket between them. He stared at the steam rising from the hot liquid and put his cup back on the table, untasted. Running his hands through his hair he just looked at the floor, unable to speak.
"William? What is it?" Julia prompted. She was getting more worried by the minute and suppressed her own disquiet in order to be a calm presence for him.
He cleared his throat, and even so his voice cracked a little. "I had to arrest George." He rubbed his forehead, stopping to take a breath, his mouth working. "Julia, all I could think about was you…You in the jail…You in the courtroom…You beyond my reach…feeling so…helpless!" Now he looked at her, brown eyes wide and troubled. "George would not even speak in his own defense. He would not talk to me, Julia, offered no explanation. Just reminded me he has the right to make no statement…" William's hands, which has been gesturing for emphasis, fell again to his knees.
Julia thought for a moment. "William. Do you think he did it?"
"The evidence is overwhelming…." He started to say but she cut him off.
"That's not what I asked. I asked if you think he did it. Did George Crabtree kill Archibald Brooks?" Julia said this slowly and clearly. "What does your heart tell you, your instincts?"
William sighed and pushed the blanket off so he could pace. "In self-defense, in defense of another, I think George would be capable of killing someone, as horrible as that is….But murder? No. But there are ways to be responsible for a death that are not murder…." William locked eyes with his wife, speaking all the understanding and wretched experience shared between them.
Julia appreciated her husband's consternation. "What other explanations are there? Think William! George needs you." Julia caught his hand as he passed and squeezed hard. "Think! First off. If he did it, why was he so sloppy about covering it up?"
William felt grounded by her touch, his mind coming more into order. Pausing, he took a deep breath. "Yes. Think." He sat down again and grabbed paper and pencil to make notes. "While George can be remarkably untidy he is also trained in police methods and therefore would be more than capable of cleaning up after a crime—or at least obfuscating the evidence. I never understood why that element was never brought up at your trial—for instance it is as ridiculous to think you'd dispose of a bloody dress in your own trash as it is for George to dispose of his boots so obviously. Most criminals are unintelligent or naïve—George is neither. "
"Then what?" she asked.
"George is an honorable man. Perhaps he thinks he is doing the right or honorable thing…" William was about to go on when Julia interrupted.
"Honour! Oh, you men and your honour! So much pain and tragedy in the name of honour," she said, eyes flashing. "Sometimes it is plain stupidity!" Her voice rose in pitch at the old complaint.
William stiffened a bit. "Yes, sometimes. But honor and love go hand in hand. I think it is just as possible that he is sacrificing himself for another, or even that he is accepting punishment for this crime in lieu of a greater one…"
"So we assume he is covering up for someone—Edna or Simon. He must think one of them is guilty, or he knows that they are, so he sent them away and is taking the blame," Julia offered. "Or worse, they ran out on him."
"I think he knows exactly where they are," William said. "I'd make a bet he was going to join them when we found him."
She took the last sip of her tea and put the cup gently down, taking a huge breath, before letting it out. "You asked me to run when I was about to be arrested… you thought I was guilty, or at least you had to consider it, didn't you?" Julia looked over at William who kept her gaze until he could not hold it any further and turned away. "It's all right, William. It took me a long time to understand that you were frightened and did not trust Chief Inspector Giles…"
He snorted. "Giles once accused me of being just like him….But it was not just that. I was unable to explain away the facts. It turned out even when I did counter the evidence in your case it did not help—I was accused of setting the whole thing up, some diabolical plot to clear Darcy out of my way." William became agitated again. "What I don't understand is why George won't speak. If he gives me something to go on, I might be able to help him out…. It is frustrating, confusing, as if he does not trust me!" William grimaced at the irony.
Julia reached for his hand again, and brought it to her lips to kiss. "I insisted on testifying at my own trial, thinking that my innocence would be obvious and exonerate me. Testified over the objections of both you and my attorney, I will remind you. Perhaps George recalls how well that worked out for me… and has decided to take his chances elsewhere."
William considered that thought for a moment. "He has been a police officer long enough to realize guilty people go free, that innocent ones hang…" William picked up his tea and drank it down before noticing it was cold. "Could someone even be framing him, or blackmailing him?" he wondered out loud. "I though the law was important to George, so for him to pervert justice…" William trailed off, aware of the handful of times in the past he himself had looked the other way, and, inevitably, his mind drifted to Ava Moon.
"The law is everything to you, but truth is more important, William. You taught George the law, but that the truth is supreme." Julia reassured her husband as his face was caught in anguish again. "He has modeled himself on you, at least a little, don't you think?
William released a grunt. "I learned the hard way that does not always turn out perfectly well… Perhaps I should have been more mindful of my behaviors around an impressionable young man." Both subsided into silence for a while.
Julia regained the conversation first. "The parallels are getting uncomfortably close. You would have taken the blame for me. If you could have." She made it a statement.
"Julia—I have no idea what I would have actually done. In hindsight, knowing that Gillies killed Darcy but having no way to prove it, knowing that Darcy died only because James Gillies was tormenting me…" he looked at her meaningfully. "I believe if there was no other way to clear your name, I would have accepted responsibility, allowed Chief Inspector Giles to think I had engineered the whole thing." His voice rasped this last part out.
Julia put her arms around her husband. "So we are back to the supposition he knows the truth, but that no one can prove otherwise that he is guilty…"
"Yes, we are."
"And maybe that is what is driving his decisions, William." She drew closer to him under the blanket, setting her thigh against his. "The truth eventually set me free, but I wanted to be free. What if George does not? What if he does not want to reveal the truth, but also does not want to lie, especially not lie to you, of all people?"
William heard that and had no immediate reply. The clocked ticked on through another set of chimes as the couple sat side by side, sharing heartbreak. Suddenly he straightened up. William's face cleared and his mouth opened. "Oh…"
"What, William? What are you thinking?" Julia sat up as well, and reached for his shoulder.
"No wonder he won't speak! He is planning to plead Nolo Contendere tomorrow at his arraignment. That is unusual but might be allowed. I guess he was listening when I explained obscure legal procedures to the men." William was more animated now, and stood abruptly. "He will not have to allocute... so he will not have to say anything into the record. He will not have to lie. It's not a guarantee but might even save him from the noose, especially if we can quickly pull some strings…If there are any left to pull."
Julia saw her husband's shoulders come down and his back straighten. He had replaced his defeated posture with one containing a glimmer of hope, more suited to his temperament. He came over to her and pulled her up and into his arms and off her feet. He was fully present in a way he had not been since he got home almost an hour before. When he kissed her, this time she felt the passion and not the pain in his touch.
He whispered in her ear: "Thank you, Julia. Talking with you always helps."
"William, I know you are never going to give up on him, are you?" He shook his head in acknowledgement. "Good. So, can you come back to bed or do you need to go back to work?" Julia asked.
William gave a small smile. "I probably should go…at least check in with the inspector. He asked me to reach him if anything new came up, and I want to check the evidence again before I say anything to anyone." His eyes pleaded for understanding.
"You go, William. I care for George too." She waved him off, love swelling in her heart. "I will wait up for you."
Julia settled back on the couch as William hastily threw his suit on and grabbed his coat.
It was going to be a long night.
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Authors' Note: Thank you "Hardstar" for the suggesting this conversation—I had been working on a thread for this for a while, but the prompt made me rethink the narrative and finish it.
According to the internet, Nolo Contendere is not allowed under English Common Law, therefore not allowed in Canada, but makes for a very good story….
Dear Reader: Write back! I will respond. FYI: I can't respond if you only post as a "Guest." Private Message works tho'- rg
