CHAPTER FOUR

After promising Tom that she would discuss things with him in the morning, Julia went to sleep, with him on the pull-out bed, gun at the ready just in case.

In the morning, her puffy face belied her calm demeanor: she'd cried all night. Hoping a little powder and rouge hid the worst of it, she dressed and went outside to start her day, already finding the Inspector awake with a cup of tea and toast.

"I made plenty for both of us...I can at least do that," he joked.

"It's enough." She smiled in gratitude. She hadn't eaten dinner last night, and was famished.

"I could tell you to stay here and be safe, which we know you won't do, or we can solve this together. Murdoch's in a world of trouble here with The Black Hand, and he could use all the help he can get," Brackenreid said in between bites of toast. "I've also received a telegram from Terence Meyers...you know it's an awful situation when Murdoch calls in those sorts of favors," he snorted.

Julia snorted back.

"Julia," he began, putting his hand on hers. "Anna Fulford is alive. Meyers' men have her and are relocating her to a safe location as we speak."

Abruptly setting her teacup down, Julia blinked back the tears, nodding.

"Let's make sure we all live to tell the tale, and then you can have it out with Murdoch and Miss Fulford, all right?"

"Very well," she agreed as the phone rang.

"Allow me. You eat your breakfast - no telling when we'll get a chance to eat again," Brackenreid told her as he rose to answer.

"Murdoch Residence," he answered as she watched his face change. "Murdoch! What have you?"

Julia immediately dropped her toast and ran over to the phone.

Nodding, the Inspector held a hand up as she approached. "Got it, we'll be there," he replied. "Yes, I said we, you know as much as I do that she's not going to wait at home for you, and she damn well isn't going to play bridge with some constable," he shot back.

She stamped her foot in response, reaching around Tom's strong-arm move to get to William.

"Here." Brackenreid handed her the phone.

She found she could barely squeak out his name. "William?"

"Julia?" William asked through the crackle on the line.

"Yes, William. I'm here. Where are you?"

"The Inspector knows. Thank God you didn't leave! I was so worried... Be careful, all right? I love you."

"I will, and I love you, too," she promised as the line went dead and she replaced the handset.

"So, Dr. Ogden...have you still got that disguise of yours? Best if you look like a gent."

"Why Tom, I thought you'd never ask," Julia laughed. "I'll grab our stash of cash we keep here just in case."

"William Murdoch."

This time it was Terrence Meyers' turn to deadpan the introduction.

William cringed inwardly as he closed the rooming house door behind them, waving the inevitable cloud of cigar smoke away. The tiny room had only one chair, which Meyers appropriated. William remained standing, not liking to be in another situation where he owed a dangerous man a favour. That is what got them in this trouble in the first place. Standing made him feel better, cleaner, somehow. "Thank you for your assistance Mr. Meyers - for getting Anna Fulford to safety."

"I'd say we were even, Murdoch, but I'm afraid Ottawa might think otherwise." Meyers blew out a long plume of smoke. "Fortunately, the government of Canada is also interested in shutting down the Black Hand and Falcone's organization. They are implicated in kidnappings and smuggling back and forth to the States, and we are hoping they don't get even more of a foothold on our side of the border. There is a copper in New York - named Petrosino - who also investigated victims found stuffed into barrels, and we are going to bring him in as a consultant on this."

William felt a chill go through him. "A barrel and lye man...The infamous barrel murders of a few years ago. I recall them. Detective Joseph Petrosino went up against the Black Hand in New York City, the Morellos crime family." It took no time at all to understand the implications. He crowded close to Meyers, his pulse pounding in his head, adrenalin drawing his muscles into knots. "Oh, my God...You want Anna for bait!" he shouted. His hands were at Meyers' lapels before he even thought about it.

Meyers didn't even protest, just brushed a smudge of ash off his jacket. William let go with a shove. "Where is she, Meyers?"

"Bait is such a… strong word. She is safe as I promised. But you have no real plan, do you, Murdoch?" Meyers drawled. "You are so predictable. Just go off, so righteous and straightforward. No subtlety in you, is there?"

William felt as if someone cut his strings. He sat heavily on the bed, cursing himself for being such a fool by involving Meyers. He'd been desperate and didn't have a firm plan, and, worse, Meyers knew it. What if, instead of pulling off a swift rescue, he managed to get Anna in even more danger? "What do you want?" He eyed Meyers warily.

"Anna Fulford was headed for the Grey Nuns in Montreal. Do you know why?" Meyers asked.

"No. When I figured out the address, I assumed it was for some kind of sanctuary. A place to hide."

Meyers grunted and stood to leave. "We have a plan for neutralizing the Falcone family and the Black Hand - at least shove them back to Buffalo and Niagara Falls, Cleveland and Detroit, where they belong. For now, what we want is for you to continue your search for Miss Fulford, drawing the Black Hand out. Meanwhile, Detective Petrosino is going to help us infiltrate the organization."

"I don't think-"

Meyers cut him off with a deep-throated chuckle and a smirk. "A son, Murdoch? Are congratulations in order? How does Dr. Ogden feel about this?"

"You leave my wife out of it!" he hissed.

"You are the one who made her a part of it, not me."

When William remained silent, Meyers kept going. "You haven't told me where the lad is."

"No."

"That's it?" Meyers kept up his false smile.

William was not going to say more. Even he did not know precisely where Freddie took Harry as a safeguard. Thank God Julia was safe and sound with the inspector. He just stared at Meyers until the man backed down.

"Have it your way, Murdoch." Meyers pulled an envelope out of his pocket. "Here is the money you asked for. Inside is how to reach me once you get to Montreal and the Black Hand makes contact with you."

"So... I am the worm for the bigger baitfish. I need to talk with Anna," William insisted, with a sudden insight. "She won't talk with you, will she? She isn't cooperating."

Meyers paused at the door and sighed. "I'll arrange it. Murdoch, be careful. My men are not here to protect you."

William watched him leave, his hasty rescue now taking a nasty turn. He checked his watch and did a quick calculation when he'd catch up with Brackenreid. It was too late to wave him off, so he'd have to let the Inspector decide if he wanted to continue after hearing the whole situation.

He wasn't sure he wanted to continue. Harry and Anna were safe, at least theoretically. If he were captured, he couldn't divulge what he didn't know. Wasn't that for the best? Wasn't that the whole point of giving her up in the first place?

He hadn't thought of Anna in years and years. Harry. Now that was a question he'd been going over in his mind. The boy was a cipher.

William flopped down on the bed, trying to block the noises from the other rooms so he could decide what to do with the next few hours before his train left the station.