We sat at Dr. Roberts' desk as he tried to explain the reasoning behind the time machine.
"I don't think Professor Harms nor Mr. Turner are telling the truth," William said. "I'm inclined to believe this whole thing is fabricated for some reason."
"Fraud is not without precedent," he said. "Now, Redheffer had his perpetual motion machine, and P.T. Barnum displayed the skeleton of a mermaid."
"What would motivate a respected scientist such as Professor Harms to perpetrate such a fraud?" I asked, still perplexed about this whole situation.
"A deep-seated desire for fame, I imagine," he said.
"Even if his fraud was certain to be exposed as such?" William asked.
"Well, perhaps his desire for fame exceeded his concern for his reputation," Dr. Roberts suggested.
"I'm sorry, uh, I don't mean to appear glib," he said when he saw the disbelief on our faces. "I'm trying to bend my analysis to fit your assumption. There is a more rational explanation at hand."
"What's that?" William asked.
"The time machine works," Dr. Roberts answered.
As William and I sat there, too stunned to say anything in reply, Dr. Roberts' hand started to shake violently and the pen he was holding dropped from his grasp. He gasped and grabbed onto his hand to stop the trembling.
I leaned forward, ready to help if necessary.
"Dr. Roberts, are you all right?" William asked, worriedly.
"No, I… I've been diagnosed with Huntington's chorea," he said, sadly.
"The degenerative nerve condition," I stated quietly.
"It's heritable," he said. "My father had it."
"I'm terribly sorry," William said sympathetically.
"One must play with the cards one is dealt," Dr. Roberts mused. "I, um… I'm sorry, I have an appointment," he said, checking his pocket watch and getting up, his hand still twisted at his side. "Please, see yourselves out."
We rose with him, watching him exit the room and I looked to William for answers.
"So William, what are you thinking?"
"I'm still convinced that this is a deception orchestrated by Professor Harms and Mr. Turner."
"But it seems extreme for Mr. Turner to throw himself through a window, unless he really believed a boy's life was in danger," I said, questioningly.
"Then we speak with Mr. Turner," he stated. "Would you care to sit in on the interrogation?"
"Yes, indeed!"
As we made our way to the station, we saw George and Higgins bringing Mr. Turner into the building. William had telephoned from Dr. Roberts' office, telling George to find Mr. Turner as soon as possible.
I followed William into the station and through the hall to the interrogation room.
"Doctor, what a pleasant surprise," the Inspector said, emerging from his office. "To what do we owe your visit?"
"Dr. Ogden will be helping me in this investigation, Inspector," William replied for me. "We are going to question Mr. Turner about his trip to the future."
"Carry on," the Inspector replied, his eyebrows raised in surprise as we continued past him.
We walked into the room and Mr. Turner was waiting for us.
"Mr. Turner," William began in his professional tone. "We've brought you back here to ask you a few more questions. This is Dr. Ogden and she will be helping me with this case."
Mr. Turner nodded toward me in acknowledgement and I returned his greeting.
"We've heard of your second heroic act this week," I said to him. He smiled shyly at me. I found it hard to believe that his reactions to the time machine were false. He seemed to genuinely think that he had seen the future. "Saving that little boy's life was quite incredible."
"I just did what I had to," he replied quietly.
"Mr. Turner, how did you know the boy was about to be trampled?" William asked.
As we waited for him to answer, his demeanour changed from shy and modest to defensive when William began speaking.
"I saw it happen with my own eyes," he said.
"When you were in the future," I finished.
"It was terrible," he said, remembering. "I couldn't let it happen again. I couldn't!"
"And how did you know Seth Morgan was about to be shot?" William asked him.
"I saw that too. Same with the suicide."
"Mr. Turner, most people live out their entire lives without witnessing such an event and yet you saw three, all in a matter of hours," William stated. "How do you explain that?"
"I can't," he replied, getting increasingly more frustrated that we weren't accepting his reasons. "Maybe…" he started.
"Maybe what, Mr. Turner?" I encouraged him to finish.
"Maybe God directed me." A light appeared in his eyes as he spoke and I could see that he wasn't lying to us at all. "Maybe God chose me to save them."
I looked at William and he glanced back at me, shaking his head.
We left Mr. Turner sitting in the room still and stood outside the window, watching him fiddle with his pocket watch.
"I'm sorry, Julia," William said. "I honestly don't believe that man is altogether sane."
"I'm not sure either, William," I said sadly. Mr. Turner seemed like such a good man that I hated to think he was mad, and yet there was no other reasonable explanation at the moment. "Sane or not, he really believes that he was supposed to save those people."
"I need to speak with Professor Harms again. There must be something more he can tell me, or show me," William said, more to himself than to me. He seemed lost in thought before he finally remembered I was still standing there.
"I'm sorry, Julia. I had hoped this would have been more useful for us."
"That's quite all right, William. I think it's fascinating and I'm sure you'll find the solution. You always do," I smiled, resting my hand on his arm.
"Thank you, Julia."
"Well, I must go now," I said, pulling on my gloves. "Thank you for allowing me to come along and please let me know if you find anything else."
He nodded in response and I said goodbye.
As I sat reading in the parlour the next day, the telephone rang.
"Hello?"
"Hello, Julia," William replied.
"William! How nice to hear from you so soon. Have you any more to report with the case?"
"As a matter of fact, I do," he said. "Would you care to come to the station? We have another time traveller."
"How wonderful! I'll be there soon."
I ran up the stairs and began pulling on my coat and hat. I was putting papers in my bag, as I planned to go to work after the station, when Darcy knocked on the door.
"So it's settled, we're ringing in the new year with the Lamott's?" he told me.
Ugh, I thought, another party with those stuffy hospital board members. Ever since Darcy and I had been married, they seemed to be the only people we ever associated with. Not that I had any other friends I wished to spend time with, except for William, but the Lamott's and their group of trustees were exasperatingly boring.
I smiled half-heartedly. "What fun!" I said, trying to seem enthusiastic, but it didn't work. "I'm going to a meeting with Dr. Roberts," I told him, diverting the conversation away from New Year's.
Darcy sighed disdainfully.
"What?"
"You're giving up your practice of real medicine for psychiatry?" he asked sceptically.
"Darcy, this field has a great deal of validity," I replied, becoming defensive. "In fact, Dr. Roberts and I are assisting Detective Murdoch in a case."
"How long has that been going on?" he asked suspiciously.
"It's a recent development," I replied. "I may be late for dinner," I said shortly and walked around him and down the stairs, huffing at his mistrust of me. While I knew that I had been happier since working with William, I knew Darcy sensed it as well. Now that Darcy was aware of what I had been doing lately, I could feel us drifting apart even further. I didn't seem to care, however. I was angry rather than guilty.
When I got to the station, I had cooled down. Thinking about this case took my mind off of Darcy and knowing that I would be close to William kept me calm. I passed by George who told me that William was questioning the latest witness.
I stood at the window, listening to the woman's account.
"You say you travelled to the year 1912, is that correct?" William said.
"Yes," she replied, confidently.
"What did you see?"
"The most wonderful thing," she breathed. "My son, he was elected mayor."
"Oh, that is something," William allowed.
"That's not the half of it," she said, smiling broadly. "My daughter voted for him. Can you imagine it? We woman shall have the vote. Astounding!"
While I was still sceptical of the rationality of a time machine, I smiled at her account. It was heartening to think of women being able to vote someday and if the time machine was real and this woman's story was true, it would be sooner than we hoped.
William thanked her for coming in and then joined me in the hall. We walked into the main room of the station and I turned to him.
"She seems perfectly sincere," I said, amazed.
"As does Mr. Turner," he said. "Do you think it's possible for two people to share the same delusion?"
"There have been instances of mass delusion; the witches of Salem being an obvious example," I explained. "But this is quite different from that."
"Murdoch!" the Inspector called from behind us.
"I should go," I said. I smiled and stood there, trying to think of something else to say. William took a breath as though to say something as well, but stopped and I walked away, hoping that these encounters would become less awkward as time went on.