It had been surprisingly easy to track down Monsieur Langlois's relatives, and they had agreed to send Murdoch a picture of their cousin via the code that Murdoch had devised about a year ago. It was being transmitted as they spoke. Once it came in, all they'd have to do was paint in the corresponding shades to each sector. He helped Crabtree and Higgins prepare the big white board up properly so that they'd be able to start as soon as the transmission was finished coming through. Then it would be many grueling hours of filling in minuscule squares, but by the end of it, they'd finally know the killers face. At least, he hoped they would. There was still the possibility that Monsieur Langlois was not their man and that this was just going to lead to some other person they'd have to try and track down; like there were a never ending cascade of clues. But he couldn't believe this; didn't want to believe this. There had to be an end in sight, there just had to be.
While Crabtree and Higgins began painting in the squares, Murdoch decided to pay another visit to the morgue so that he could fill Julia in on their progress with the case. When he entered the building, he came face to face with Emily.
She smirked at him and said, "She's all yours, detective. We haven't had much to do recently, so I decided to go home early today. I thought that I deserved the break. You better hurry though because I think she was planning on leaving soon herself."
She walked away without waiting for a response. He took her advice and advanced into the main room rapidly. Most of the bodies had been removed, and as a result, he could breathe freely for the first time there since his return from the Yukon. He quickly spotted Julia at her desk reading a book. At least, she was trying to, but her eyes kept drooping and as a result the book was beginning to fall out of her hand. When it hit the ground, with a resounding thud, she was instantly awakened. It was at this point that she noticed Murdoch. Smiling sleepily, she stood up and went over to him.
"Detective," she mumbled, "please tell me that there aren't any more bodies."
"As far as I know, doctor, there aren't."
"So then, how can I help you right now?"
"Oh," he said smiling, "I just wanted to inform you that I believe we are very close to catching the killer."
All her sleepiness vanished and she said, "Really? Why that's wonderful news! Do you know his name?"
"Gabriel Langlois."
"A French man? I would never have guessed."
"Me neither. For whatever reason, most of these psychopaths seem to originate in London. It must have something to do with the condition of the area. Maybe the rampant poverty just brings out the worst in people there, more so than anywhere else."
"Maybe," she said. It was silent for a moment and then with eyes averted, "William, I have to tell you something. I've been meaning to for awhile but just haven't gotten around to it."
He didn't like where this was going, her tone was not cheerful.
All he said was, "Oh? What is it, Julia?"
"After this case is over, I'm going to be leaving." His heart lurched horribly at her words. "Don't worry though, Dr. Grace is more than capable of taking over for me."
He couldn't find the right words, so all he said was, "Why?"
Still not looking at him she said, "You know why. We made our decisions, William. It's not appropriate for me to be working so closely with you anymore. I had hoped to be re-situated before you got back but unfortunately that didn't quite work out as planned. And then this case hit and I had to help Dr. Grace out, so my leaving was forestalled even longer. But if it is as you say, and the case is almost closed, then I will be going as soon as it is."
Again, virtually speechless, he said, "Don't go."
She looked up now, for the first time, and caught his eye. He would wonder later if what happened next was mostly the result of their extreme tiredness from working this case. Maybe it had caused their fuses to be much shorter than usual, for they usually held their emotions in much better than that.
She appeared intrigued by his words for the briefest of moments and then said furiously, "How can you ask me that, William? You have no right to! You're the one who didn't come! You had all the power to stop me but you didn't! You made your choice and I made mine and that's all there is to say about that!"
Now it was his turn to get angry and accusatory. How could she be so unfair to him?
"I'm not the one who ran off to Buffalo after dropping a huge bombshell on your head! You didn't give me a chance to collect my thoughts! You just up and left! I was going to propose and you didn't give me a chance to! You went and got engaged immediately to the next man who paid you the slightest amount of attention! How could you do it, Julia! You can't possibly love him!"
"How dare you!" she shrieked. "You can't possibly know what I feel! You're the most emotionally closed off person that I've ever met! What do you know about love?"
The next thing he knew, they were in each others arms, mashing lips together furiously and breathing heavily. He put his hand on her left breast and squeezed it playfully. "Oh, William," she moaned as he began necking her rapidly but softly. Then he began unbuttoning her blouse and-
"Well!" she screamed, "Are you going to answer me? Or are you just going to stand there with a stupid grin on your face?"
He was so confused with what was going on that he didn't respond.
"That's what I thought!"
Then she stormed out of the morgue leaving him completely baffled.
Seven hours later, they were three quarters of the way finished painting the image. It had gone much faster than the last time because Crabtree and Higgins had a much better idea of what they were doing. As well, Murdoch had helped them when he came back from the morgue. It would have been even faster than this but Higgins had to be removed at hour five. He had almost passed out from standing so long (which was only an issue since he hadn't slept in several days) and he almost ruined the image with a massive brush stroke. If he had, they would have had to have started all over again. Luckily, Crabtree had noticed in time and pulled him away from the picture before it was too late. Higgins was now sleeping soundly at his desk.
Now all that remained was the mouth; then they would finally be done. After another hour they were. They took a moment to stretch out their limbs and rub their eyes and then retreated a few steps back to admire their handiwork and get a better look at it (it was hard to see any particular detail when they had been standing so close to it for so long; all those greys and blacks just blended together into one big mass).
Crabtree and Murdoch gazed at it for a few seconds and then their jaws dropped. They stared at the image in horror. Right then Brackenreid came in to see how they were getting along. He took one look at them and then turned his attention to the picture. His jaw dropped as well. "Bloody hell," he said weakly. "It's Darcy."
Murdoch jumped on his bike and began peddling furiously in the direction of the Garland residence (of course, as he had previously learned, this wasn't the proper name for it). Brackenreid had started to inform the station about the current situation. While he had been doing this, Murdoch had looked up the address, for he had never been there before. When things began to get hectic, he slunk out the back. They eventually noticed his absence as they had had a feeling that he might try to do something stupid and so had tried to keep a close eye on him. Unfortunately, they had failed. And so it was, that Crabtree had hopped onto his own bike and was chasing after him, leaving Brackenreid behind to organize the fire (and man) power issue as quickly as possible, before Murdoch walked right into a trap.
At eleven minutes to midnight, he arrived. He had pedaled so hard that he was severely winded by the time he dumped his bike on the grass at the front of their house. He would have taken a moment to catch his breath except he knew Crabtree was likely behind him, maybe by only a matter of seconds. So he staggered on forwards toward the entrance, clutching his side where a painful stitch had just begun.
When he reached the door, there was a familiar looking envelope taped there. He tore it open and struggled to read what it said in the moonlight.
'Meet me in the barn. Come alone or she dies.'
He looked around in all directions and eventually discerned it in the distance, to the west, at about half a mile from his current location. After tearing the note up, he hurried back to his bike as quickly as he could, and with a great determination of will, forced himself to start peddling vigorously again, even though the effort caused his lungs (and limbs) to sear painfully.
Within a short while, he dropped his bike in front of the barn, pulled out his gun (the one smart thing he had done so far), opened the door and walked inside.
It was much more brightly lit than he was expecting, so much so, that he was temporarily blinded after squinting in the moonlight for so long. The source of this illumination was a row of lanterns hanging on either side of the barn's structure. This only had his attention for a split second before it was wholly diverted to the scene in the center of the barn. All of his exhaustion just washed away at the sight. Julia was sitting in a high back wooden chair, hands in her lap and staring directly ahead, at him. Strangely, she didn't make the slightest sound at his arrival. In fact, she didn't even appear to register his existence.
Murdoch began to go to her when a voice said, "Not so fast, detective. I'd like you to stay where you are, please."
He swiveled towards the sound, aiming his gun as he did so. Darcy emerged from behind a large beam and started to walk over to Julia. Apparently he was completely unarmed.
"You stay away from her, you monster!" he shouted. When Darcy didn't listen, he yelled, "I'll shoot you right now if you keep moving!"
This made him stop. Darcy cocked his head in his direction, smirked and said, "I wouldn't do that if I were you, detective."
Then he continued moving until he was standing directly behind Julia. He gripped the top of the seat and stared at Murdoch.
"What did you do to her?" screamed Murdoch.
"Oh, don't worry, detective, it's nothing that can't be undone." Here he smirked at him again and said, "Provided nothing happens to me, that is. I'd appreciate it if you'd lower your weapon now. I hate having a gun pointed in my face. It makes me angry. And you don't want me to get angry."
Murdoch had no idea what would happen if he did as Darcy said but was more afraid of what would happen if he didn't, so he complied.
"You might as well go ahead and holster it. You won't be needing it."
Again, he did as he was told.
"Good boy," Darcy said, mockingly. Then in a more civilized tone said, "I bet you're wondering why you're here." Murdoch didn't respond but he continued as if he had. "It's quite simple really. We're going to finish our game now. But first, I believe a short history lesson is in order.
"You see, detective, I wasn't always this way. No, I was a good little French boy at one point. Unfortunately, my daddy went and killed my mommy right in front of me, and that didn't seem to agree with me too well for some reason." He smiled widely here. "Of course, he didn't see me, or he would have finished me off right then and there.
"Strangely, ever since that moment, I hated everything about him. And since he was a French man,-my mother being a bilingual American- I wanted to learn English and rid myself of the disgusting accent as fast as I could. It pained me greatly that this task took so many years of my life to accomplish. Happily, I eventually succeeded.
"When I turned twenty-one I started a fire in our house. Everyone died. As a consequence, I inherited all the money. Don't worry, I made sure to torture the bastard a bit before I set the blaze. I knew exactly how to maximize his pain as I had purposely studied human anatomy in college for that very reason.
"Then I left home, with our entire fortune and began traveling the world. Everything was so boring though, so I made it interesting. People didn't seem to appreciate what I was doing and as a result I was almost caught a few times. So I wised up and learned to be more discreet in my actions. As well, every place I went to, that I was planning on killing in, I would first get married. For who would suspect the well adjusted husband as the serial killer that was terrorizing the area. No one.
"Of course, once I was done with that place, I had no need for my new blushing bride. So I'd arrange for an accident to befall her. Then after an appropriate grieving period, I would move on to another location. I'd stay in this place for a year or so to cool down before I'd move on to the next place, and change my identity. It's a simple matter when you're as rich as I am. Then I'd start all over.
"None of the detectives anywhere in Europe were any fun though, so I traveled to America, where my dear old mum had come from. To my dismay, they were just as dimwitted as all the other ones. I made my way up the continent, until I heard of a promising challenge. You.
"You had successfully taken down a serial killer by the name of Harland Orgill. I thought, if you could catch him, maybe you'd be fun to play with. I decided to give you some time to regain your wits so that you'd be in tip-top form. In the meantime, I had some fun in Philadelphia. My next stop was Buffalo.
"During my cooling off period, I took a job as a doctor at the Children's hospital because I love children so much. And no, detective, not in that way. Children are the only innocents in life, that is, before they are traumatized. I could relate to all these poor kids; having to deal with death at such a young age is difficult. I offered what counsel I could.
"I hadn't been there for long before Julia showed up. We got to talking one day, about you, or rather a case you had recently solved, and to my amazement, it turned out that this woman actually knew you, had even worked with you for years. And I suspected, had loved you for years.
"I couldn't believe my luck. I immediately began wooing her. It was a simple matter. She was heartbroken over you, poor thing. Soon we were engaged. It was only a matter of time before she'd want to introduce me to her family. Then I would be in Toronto, where you were.
"Once she was there, I knew it would be easy enough to get her to stay. She clearly missed you too much not to do so. After the wedding, I was going to commence the festivities. However, I learned soon enough that you had left. This in itself didn't bother me too much, no, it was the fact that you stayed away so long that did. That was a terribly trying time for me. I was afraid that I would lose my patience and take my anger out on my darling wife." He stroked her cheek a few times. "Luckily for you, I didn't, or we wouldn't be here right now.
"Finally, you returned. I had been keeping tabs on your movements so I could be sure to start as soon as you got back. I began making preparations again. The night before you went back to work, I started the game. It wasn't until the next evening I learned from Julia that you had taken ill. I was very distraught by this occurrence. After waiting all this time, you almost ruined everything. For where was the fun if you were no where to be found?
"Once I start killing, I find it hard to stop. That is, until I reach the number nine. Must have something to do with the fire. So I continued with the game, hoping for you to return before the end. Thankfully, you obliged me. If you hadn't, I'm sure no one would have figured it out and the game would have ended before it had a chance to begin.
"You had a certain time limit to solve my identity. If you hadn't figured it out by then, I would know that you hadn't been trying hard enough. And I hate slackers. In that event, I was just going to kill Julia outright. You've actually already exceeded that time limit. However, being the fair minded man that I am, I decided to give you a little longer because you had been sick for so long. Who knows? Maybe the illness had dulled your mind. I didn't want to win that way.
"So here we are, detective. Let the final round commence. You now have a choice before you." He smiled mischievously and said, "You can either take me in. Or you can let me leave right now and learn how to undo what I've done to your beloved Julia."
