Another loud thud against the heavy iron door as O'Leary charged it, jarring Murdoch's shoulder badly. A few more like that and he would have to remove himself and rely on the door itself to withstand the rhino's blows.

"Clearly there's someone there," came the odious voice from down below. "You're making enough noise to wake the entire prison."

Even if Murdoch hadn't had his hands full, he wouldn't have responded.

"I don't know what's been keeping you these last few hours but I'm starving. You imbeciles forgot to feed me at six. For the first time I'm actually looking forward to the disgusting fare you serve at this establishment."

Murdoch winced every time the door shook. His shoulder felt like it would pop out at any moment.

"Well?" came the dulcet tones of the increasingly irritated Gillies. "What are you waiting for? Speak! Or show yourself! Do something besides making that infernal racket!"

Between the enraged Irish man and the annoyed psychopath, he was not having a good time of things and fervently wished he had better weapons than two pans, one of which was somewhat damaged.

"Whoever you are, you've just made a powerful enemy! Mark my words, you will live to regret this!"

That was ironic (and a bit nonsensical) on several levels but he didn't feel like laughing.

"Open up Murdoch!" roared O'Leary in frustration. Apparently the power of speech had returned to his already limited capabilities at precisely the wrong time.

Murdoch cringed, but not out of pain.

"Detective?"

Gillies voice was now back to normal and then some. It had acquired an additional layer of amusement. Murdoch could practically hear the smirk across his face.

"Your friend doesn't sound too pleased with you. I can't blame him though. You are a most tiresome individual. Positively dull. All work and no play. That's why you are so fortunate to have me in your life."

Just when he didn't think he could take anymore abuse, O'Leary abruptly gave up his attempt and vanished from view. Whether this was a good thing or not was anyone's guess.

"Well now that he's gone, why don't you come down here so that we can converse in a less stupid manner? We have much to discuss and I'd rather not strain my voice anymore if you don't mind."

Murdoch debated simply leaving right now and risking getting caught. Embarrassingly, he had already wasted so much time being overwhelmed by an imbecile. And not knowing whether Julia still lived or not was driving him insane.

Hand on the belt strap, he was about to undo it when O'Leary (and his cronies) reappeared, holding firearms. Murdoch jumped down the first of the stairs at the exact moment they blasted the door to hell. Glass exploded just above him and a few pieces landed in his hair. At the bottom of the dimly lit and damp smelling dungeon - what Murdoch assumed was the isolation section, reserved for the dangerous maniacs - he squinted upwards and watched as the Irish man struggled to removed the belt from the handle. The lock had been busted off. There were likely only seconds before they were upon him.

He turned and ran towards the darkest spot, hoping to gain some cover for additional time to think. A gleaming eye pressed up against the slit in an isolation chamber startled him before he got there, but not as badly as the speaker.

"Looks like you're in trouble, Murdoch. Perhaps you need some help from an old friend?"

"Forget it Gillies. Even if I had the key, I would never release you."

"Suit yourself, detective. It's a pity we will never be able to finish what we started."

Murdoch frowned at that. Gillies made it sound as though he had been planning on escaping again.

That's impossible, William. Focus!

An enormous bang was heard, followed by a serious of clattering sounds. He didn't need to turn his head to know O'Leary had succeeded in kicking the door down the stairs. Fast running out of time, he did the only thing he could think of, which was to duck inside the nearest isolation chamber, the one directly beside Gillies. Retrieving his only weapons -his pans - he stood beside the door and waited for his pursuers to find him.

Doors could be heard being opened and closed. All the while footsteps echoed closer and closer.

He tensed, waiting for the moment to strike. If he missed his window of opportunity, all was lost.

His door was kicked open and he held his breath as the unnamed man entered. They looked left and then pivoted towards him. Before a shot could go off, he had whacked the mans hand with the pan, elicited a cry of pain. Almost in the same instant he brought down the other pan on his head. Both man and pistol were now immobilized. Quickly he dropped a pan and hunched over to pick up the weapon, in preparation of the next assailant.

Unfortunately he never got the chance. Ralph and O'Leary were upon him before he succeeded in this critical goal. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised. The Irishman had succeeded in pulling off several bank jobs. He had to know most of the tricks in the book by now.

"Turn around nice and easy, Murdoch," said O'Leary. "Keep yer hands where I can see 'em."

Murdoch did as he was bade, a cold sweat breaking out spontaneously.

"Now step out of there."

Again he followed instructions.

O'Leary scowled at him.

"Yeh know Murdoch, I was never goin' to kill yeh. Just make yeh suffer a bit. But now yeh've really ticked meh off and I've changed meh mind!" The rifle was cocked at his head. "Say yer prayers before it's too late!"

A throat was cleared right beside them. "Excuse me, gentlemen, but could I have a word with you?"

"Who the bloody hell is that?" O'Leary asked, without taking his eyes off of him.

Maybe he isn't quite as stupid as I originally thought?

"James Gillies. Perhaps you have heard of me?"

"Might've heard a whisper or two around these parts. What do yeh want? We's a little busy at the moment."

"Yes and it is precisely your current occupation that I wish to discuss."

"Speak plainly boyo!"

"All right then. I will pay you quite handsomely to spare the detective's life."

There was a stunned silence. Murdoch was completely bewildered.

"And how are yeh supposed to do that locked up?"

"I think that's his point," said Ralph, also with his gun trained on him. "We'll have to free him in order to get paid."

A few moments of silence.

"How much we talkin' boyo?"

Casually, "How much would you like?"

O'Leary grinned greedily at that. "Go find the keys, Ralph."

Ralph didn't move.

"Uh, sir," said Ralph timidly, "do you think this course of action wise?"

"Yeh callin' me stoopid? Again?"

"No, sir...it's just that James Gillies is a very dangerous, unpredictable individual. There's a reason Dr. Bates left him locked up. Besides, if what Dr. Bates said is true, the constabulary must have their hands full which means-"

"Stop yer yappin' and just do as yer told!"

"Yes, sir! Of course, sir!"

Ralph hurried off to locate the keys. A few pained minutes later he returned, the jingling preceding the visual. The younger man stood in front of Gillies cell uncertainly.

"What are yeh waitin' fer, Ralph?! Open it!"

Another thirty seconds elapsed before the correct key was found. Ralph heaved on the door. From Murdoch's current vantage point he could not see the occupant within, but he could smell him all right. It must have been awhile since Gillies had been allowed to bathe. Likely many of the guards had been afraid to unchain him at all.

Gillies waddled into view for the first time in over eight months. His beard was shaggy and unkempt, as was his hair. And as their eyes briefly met, Murdoch noticed the dark circles there.

"Now then," Gillies said, moving his feet minutely, awkwardly, "would you be so kind as to help me out of these entrappings?" His arms were secured behind his back and his legs were similarly fastened. "I'm afraid I will be dreadfully slow otherwise and I would hate to impede facilitating your payment after you have been so agreeable to me."

Ralph looked towards the big Irishman again. The younger man was clearly nervous. As was he.

"Do as he says."

Ralph took a deep breath and repeated the procedure of before. The second Gillies feet were freed, he kicked one backwards into Ralph's face, rendering him unconscious.

"Yeh feckin' liar!" roared O'Leary, whirling his rifle at Gillies and firing. Gillies dropped to the ground a split second before the shot went off and the next instant Murdoch had jumped onto the large man's back and put him in a sleeper hold. "Get off of meh!" he screamed, dropping his gun and attempting to claw at Murdoch's face.

When the big lug realized he couldn't reach the detective that way, he ran around like a chicken with its head cut off, banging into things, almost running over Gillies, and finally smashing Murdoch into a wall by accident. The blow doubled his vision but somehow he held on. Still, the brute must have figured out how to dislodge the detective because he rammed him into the wall again. Murdoch was on the verge of unconsciousness when O'Leary suddenly cried out and collapsed forward. Murdoch released his hold of the prone, still loudly complaining man. Gillies was only a foot away, smirking.

"What did you do to him?"

"Let's just say I behaved in a rather ungentlemanly manner."

Gillies eyes flickered to O'Leary. "Oh be quiet," he said and kicked him upside the head, hard. The noise finally ceased and they just viewed each other for a few seconds. It was during this time that Murdoch realized the criminal had liberated his hands (the chains were still there but they were now in front of his person) and was now pointing a gun at him.

Oh for heaven sakes!

Gillies gestured towards the stairs and Murdoch went ahead of him.

"Turn right."

As they walked, Murdoch heard the jangling of keys. And then a thunk and sigh of relief.

"Much better."

Clearly Gillies had located the desired key.

Great.

They walked for a short distance to the cafeteria.

"Sit."

Gillies scooped up some leftovers from behind the counter, all the while keeping his eyes on Murdoch. Tray laden, he calmly walked back over to the detective and sat down across from him, gun trained at his chest. Gillies took a spoonful of beans, chewed slowly and swallowed. He proceeded to eat his entire meal in this fashion. Murdoch wanted to scream in frustration.

Once he finished he said, "All right, detective, I would like you to tell me what is going on."

"And why would I do that?"

Gillies smiled. "Why, because I saved your life."

Murdoch gave him a puzzled expression. "For what reason?"

Gillies laughed. "Because I could, detective." His demented smile returned. "And because I'm not finished with you yet."