Ten:

When Phillip Dawson stepped from a cramped train onto the platform at Denver station, he felt the warm air hit him right away. He loosened the shirt collar, placing a finger beneath it and pulling at it until it didn't bite him as much. he glanced about, his deep set blue eyes taking in the new sites of a strange city. He didn't think much so far, only wondering what would fetch a young man, his girl and new-born out into these parts. He pushed that from his mind, knowing that he had work to do. His plan was pretty simple; find a hotel, lay low and find out about the Brown's as much as he could. Apparently in these parts they were pretty well known. He may have to attend a few galas in order to get close but it was the young man she was harbouring that he was interested in.

Cal's knowledge of him was pretty spectacular. He had given exact physical details and that his named was 'Jack.' Pretty common name, but with his extensive collection of facts, finding him and teaching the guy a lesson would be something he was fairly confident doing. During the trip, he had thought of the strange affair between the Hockley's fiancée and this Jack, whilst he himself didn't usually become so involved in the ins and outs of such business associates, travelling out here had left him very little to do besides play with his deck of cards and use his own brain to think. He didn't smoke or drink, so that left very little to indulge in. He liked women...taking them to his bed, but whilst he was assigned this job, he would need to keep a very clear head. Half a million dollars lined his pocket and he didn't want to fail the Hockley's. This Jack was a pretty wanted man, even though the offenses weren't exactly serious, he had left the Hockley ego broken. The money he had been paid would be enough for him to lay low himself for a very long time, probably out of the country, for Boston had nothing to offer him now his own old man had died a few years before.

As he got out of the station carrying one duffel bag containing all he would need for this trip, the crowds thinned and he found himself crossing a street and dodging horse drawn carts and the odd car. He walked passed the bank, vegetable stores, tobacconists; all the everyday life was out here, the hustle and bustle as people went about their daily life. He searched faces for someone who would resemble the guy he had in his mind but he couldn't place him. He moved with purpose as he glanced about for any place where he might be able to crash, to use as a base and then, he would get started on his work. He was due to make a telephone call that evening to Hockley to let him know of his arrival in Denver and what action he had taken so far. it was a strange situation for this Hockley guy to be in; who would cling to a girl who was 'damaged goods' as she had been described? Did he have love for her or was all of this just about a damned battered ego?

Within fifteen minutes, he had found a so-called hotel, with shabby windows and a rusted gate which led up a long path. The sign caught his eye, the way it swung in the delicate wind stating that vacancies were available. He went up the steps and knocked just once loudly on the door. His eyes darted about the peeling wood of the door and that's when he came face to face with an elderly lady who must have been past seventy-five.

''How many nights?'' She demanded right out, her voice rattling with a raspy cough in a harsh tone. Her eyes were sharp as they gaze atop a pair of fixed glasses and Phillip felt like he was at the school head mistress's office.

''Um, one, or two.''

''Well, which is it?''

He raised his eyebrows. ''If I pay for two would that suffice.''

She looked down at his single bag and then narrowed her eyes at him. ''Yes. What is your business here in town?'' She widened to door to let him inside.

He smirked as she turned and he followed her inside. It wasn't so bad after all. A little Victorian in décor but he had laid his laid in worse states...or woke up in them. He knocked that thought from his head and remembered her question.

''Um, visiting family.'' He lied, ''long lost family.''

Down the long hallway, the woman stopped in front of him and selected a single key. ''You got a name?''

''Phil. Just Phil.'' He smiled.

''Well, Phil, I am Dorothy. Any trouble, my husband carries a gun downstairs and that's if you bring the trouble here or if you experience it.'' She held two fingers up to his head and her eyes were startlingly wide. ''Bang!''

Phillip smiled, amused at her directness. For an old woman she was as sharp as a tack.

''Well, thank you Dorothy. I will keep that in mind, rest assured, no trouble will be brought here by me. I simply need a place to rest my head, bath and a base for my stuff.''

''Umph.'' Dorothy placed her hands on her hips. ''Bath? What do you think this is? We have a tin bath, if you want to use it then you will pay extra for it and you'll have to carry it upstairs, my back isn't what it used to be.''

''Well, I wouldn't expect a lady like yourself to carry that thing up these steep stairs.'' Phillip glanced at the clock above the sets of keys. It was after midday.

''Well, then you must be the damned first one.'' She jiggled a set of keys and then shook her head to herself before selecting another. ''Here, take this. Pay me two dollars, twenty-five for it all. I can even fetch you a tray of tea and fruit cake if you like.''

''That's very generous of you.'' He reached into his pocket and pulled out a twenty bill. It was all he had and doubted she would have any change, not that he wanted any of it. He held it out to her and she eyed him, suspiciously.

''Is this a joke?''

''I assure you, not. It is all I have and I would not ask for change. How about we say, you make sure that bath is free for me to use around seven each night and I will say nothing no more.''

She snatched the twenty from his hands, tucking it into the pocket of her apron which fastened atop her black dress. Her wrinkled face laughed. ''I will make you a fresh cake for that!''

The Brown residence, two weeks previous...

Violet touched around the lamp with her feather duster before double checking to inspect for dust. There was nothing. She ensured that she was thorough with her work. Next, she moved down the long corridor to the parlour. Inside, she found Mrs. Brown sat beside the telephone and she stopped in her tracks.

''Oh, pardon me, ma'am. I was told that nobody would be home this morning.''

Molly wiggled forward in the arm chair which she had been sat in for thirty or so minutes. ''It is all right. You may work.'' She gestured for the young girl to continue and so she did.

''Very, well Mrs. Brown.''

Molly pointed her fingers together in her lap as she watched how Violet tinkled about with her feather duster in silence. If she was affected by her employer's gaze, she didn't let on. In fact, she hummed a little song to herself.

It had taken two days for Molly to come to a decision about Violet. She was a bright young girl, with a family to feed no doubt and this job was important to her. One can see why a person could perhaps go behind the back of their loved ones, or someone close in order to gain a little money or respect but in this case, Molly found she didn't trust the selfish young woman. A punishment was in order and so, she had thought what the way would be to handle this situation in a way that no one else would be involved. Or as little people as possible. She had yet to reveal to Rose and Jack that information may have possibly leaked or her whereabouts back home, but until she had dealt with the problem then she wouldn't let on.

Violent worked her way to the mantelpiece, carefully dusting around the ornaments and then she stopped to glance about inspecting her own work. Next, came the telephone. She went to the desk, picking up the receiver and cleaned about, careful to not knock any of the numbers on the dialler.

''Say, how often would you say you used my telephone to make a personal call.'' Molly's shrill voice pierced the quiet air and Violent dropped the receiver, her slim body jumping.

''Uh-I'm sorry, Mrs. Brown. I don't-'' She squeaked as she quickly replaced the receiver and turned to meet Molly's gaze.

''I heard you.''

Violet's mouth opened to speak but nothing came out and her body hunched beside the cabinet.

''Well, young lady, what could you say about the phone calls I have heard you make to the Hockley residence, to inform them that Jack Dawson and their daughter were here?''

If violet wasn't white as a sheet before, then she was now. Molly didn't even stand from the chair, seeing the maids shrinking form was enough of a response.

''I-I'' She glanced about the room, wringing her hands before her. ''I-I'm sorry. They offered me money, a great deal and if I told them everything then they would help me, help my family and my mother, she is sick-''

Molly studied the girl before her, debating how much of a lie this was. ''Violet, your mother passed away last Christmas, we granted you leave to attend the funeral and to recover from the loss yourself.''

Violet opened her mouth again, but nothing came out. ''Yes, Mrs. Brown.'' She whispered slowly. ''I'm sorry.''

Molly stood from the chair, her towering broad figure shadowed the small maids and she refused to make eye contact.

''Violet, you are dismissed at once without pay for your last fortnights work. I, could right away ensure that a lying, scheming girl like yourself never finds work around these parts again, for one breathe from myself and you will not be employed. But, I feel for your family, I know you have siblings and a father to support so your next actions will ensure whether or not they have food in their bellies.''

''Yes, Mrs. Brown. Anything.''

''You will telephone the Hockley residence, right this instant and tell them that you are mistaken. That you lied of their whereabouts and that they will not contact here again or action will be taken. Is this understood?''

''Yes.''

With a trembling hand, Violet went to the telephone under Molly's watchful eyes.

''You two have fun, now. Remember, we will not be too far away.'' Molly's voice called as she cradled Elizabeth to her chest. JJ followed down the long path into a waiting automobile.

''Can you manage there, Molly? It has been some time since you travelled with a youngster.''

''Oh, nonsense!'' She scoffed to her husband. ''Once a woman has a baby, these things never leave you.'' She ushered him towards the car.

''All right.'' He rolled his eyes.

Phillip watched as the broad, busty lady known as Molly bopped her head into the car as she was helped by a member of staff. The baby didn't whimper once. With a clear head, Phillip realised that the young couple would be alone in that house. He smiled, this was the easier half a million bucks he would ever earn in his life. A craving for a cigar came across him; a celebration.

Back at the hotel, he left Dorothy a dollar beside the telephone as he dialled a number. He waited for a tone and then he got an answer right away.

''Hockley? Yes.''

A few seconds later, the voice he required answered the phone. ''Hey, don't worry about it. I will act earlier than intended...tonight.''