CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
Toronto Rowing Club
At 7 pm sharp Murdoch pulled his Indian behind Bungalow 5 at the Toronto Rowing Club, cutting the engine and putting the kickstand down. He hung his helmet and goggles on the handlebars.
He took a second to make sure his exterior looked presentable even if his insides were feeling disordered, went around front then knocked softly. Julia answered wearing a sleeveless, layered ice blue chiffon ensemble with a dropped waist, plunging neckline in the front and back, with an underskirt hemline that fell, daringly, just above her knees. A gossamer over-dress floated over the whole affair.
She looked so lovely the sight took his breath. As he stepped in, a waiter was setting a table for two - white linen, candles, flowers, dishes under silver covers next to chilled champagne.
The waiter bowed and Julia slipped him a bill, dismissing him. Locking the door behind her, Julia turned and leaned against the door, smiling back at him.
"William," she murmured.
He was getting used to hearing his name. "Julia, you look beautiful...this color suits you."
"Thank you, unfortunately the style is not too practical for work, but I do like to have a bit of fun now and then."
"Yes, I do believe fun is essential - now and then." He walked forward to pull her into his arms. He savored the feel of her against his body and stifled a growl of wanting before pushing her back.
"There'll be time for that later, William. You know, when I first met you, for a long time I thought you were much too serious for any kind of fun. What did you think about me?"
He started. He remembered very clearly exactly the moment he laid eyes on her, bending over a corpse, thinking she was kissing it or otherwise compromising the scene. Then, for a long time I thought you and Dr. McDaniels were an item. He tried not to laugh at how absurdly wrong he had been. "I thought you were a pagan and a hedonist. I wasn't wrong."
"Touché." She laughed. "Well, I don't know about you, but I'm famished."
He thought her laugh was delightful. "It has been days since I had a proper meal," he laughed back. When he was with her, laughing came so much easier now.
She put a record on the Victrola and winked at him. He recognized The Stolen Kisses foxtrot. Helping her into her chair, they sat at the table, savoring the meal. He did not often get to enjoy such fare: seared scallops, asparagus, and poached pears. He got the first few delicious mouthfuls down when she asked about his investigation.
"Closed, thanks to you. I did a little more digging for you as well. The Hamilton Constabulary found that Rocco Perri was paying Olive Routledge's bills, meaning she was his mistress...well, second mistress. He left his first wife for a woman named Bessie Starkman. She runs his business interests for him now."
"But she did not hold his other interest for long, it seems." Julia popped a bite of asparagus into her mouth with her fingers. "As for the rest, I promised I'd never speak of it again. So, shall we move on to safer topics?"
"My pleasure, Julia." He wasn't absolutely certain, but did he detect some trepidation about a woman holding a man's interest?
During the rest of dinner they spoke of current events and recent articles in Scientific American about forecasting earthquakes. Having an intellectual equal, and one so beautiful made the time fly. He tried to keep focused on the food and conversation, and ignore the growing angst within his chest, but eventually the food was gone and dessert consumed.
All afternoon he'd rehearsed what he really wanted to say, his prepared speech now evaporating under the flame of his growing worry. No matter how he turned it over, he kept circling back to the heart of it: How can I hope she and I want the same thing when I'm not certain what it is I myself want?
Getting up from the table, they moved to the couch, where Julia arranged for a pot of coffee to be served. Her initial choice of music and the private, romantic setting aside, she made no reference to their relationship the whole meal - for once - no forward innuendo or outrageous flirting. She put on another record, crossed her legs and pulled them up under her skirts on the cushion. His nerves hummed as he took his seat beside her and prepared himself. He did not take her hand, but held her gaze, searching for a sign.
What was there to lose? So, so much. Ah...but what is there to gain?
"Julia…" he fought a nervous grin, rushing his words forward. "Julia, we make good partners, do we not? I mean at work...That is, if you are going to remain City Coroner? I…. uh... today I heard you received your medical license. I assume you've been considering a position at a hospital?"
Looking down at the table, she just stared at the coffee tray. His skin felt hot when she remained silent. "What I meant was…"
"Yes. I got the letter I have been waiting for." Laughing lightly, she shook her head. "And, yes...I'd thought of practicing my art on the living, but these past few weeks have shown me that there's a lot of excitement, and purpose, in doing what we do, and well, if I'd wanted a conventional life, I'd have married one of those insufferable twits my father pushed at me after finishing at Bishop Strachan."
"I imagine your debut in Society was quite an event then," he smiled to show he was just teasing her, still not quite sure what she was saying.
"You have no idea. I snuck off after the introductions to read a book. I didn't want to be there. My father was upset with me, but still, that was nothing compared to Ruby's...she was found cavorting with one of the footmen."
"I believe I may feel sympathy for your father." He had no trouble imagining the scene.
"Yes, I suppose he does deserve it, but, to answer your question, yes, I will stay on as City Coroner. I'm enthusiastic about putting my skills to good use for an underserved cause, and I look forward to the challenge of modernizing the morgue," she agreed before adding, "in partnership with you." She searched his face. "William...You came here tonight to ask me about that?"
She looked so disbelieving; his well-considered speech fled completely from his mind. "Yes...well...I got a letter too...I thought...I...uh...wanted you to know I signed my divorce papers this morning and have sent them to the lawyer. It will take a while, but I will eventually be single again. Julia, I want you to know I do not expect anything from you, I have never engaged in an affair before, but I am an honourable man...I'd have to get an annulment before marrying again, and well…" he prattled on, trying to gauge her reaction.
"Hold your horses! Who said anything about marriage?" Julia interrupted, looking shocked.
His heartbeat somehow closed his throat. "But…" he rasped.
"As for casual relationships, well, I've never been particularly good at them myself. In fact, you were supposed to be a fling if I'm honest, but well…" she shrugged. "I find myself interested in something more too. But marriage...? You cannot marry and I have no intention to do so any time soon - sounds perfect to me!"
He exhaled a deep breath he didn't even know that he'd been holding. Could they be on the same page after all?
Julia gave him a squeeze and a giggle. "You know, the first night we met, I made a bet with Ruby about you."
He was beginning to love her giggles. "Interesting…I made a bet with myself about you as well. Do you want to tell me what yours was?"
Her eyes studied his face intently. "Um...no. How about you?" She smiled up at him.
He'd do anything to keep that smile of her face. "Definitely 'no'," he said, holding out his hand, inviting her to take it, so pleased when she did. Her gaze was entrancing - if he wasn't careful, he was going to get lost in there.
It felt to him as if he was standing on the edge of a precipice, that moment where there was going to be no going back, where the next breath was going to end everything that came from before. You only live once, William, and life is short.
Taking a deep breath, he decided to take the dive. "Let's be anarchists, shall we?" he asked.
Julia looked at him quizzically.
"A wise woman once told me that the heart refuses to be governed," he grinned as she caught his train of thought.
"Yes, I believe I would love to engage in some mayhem with you." That smile again… he felt so lifted when he saw it.
She giggled, running one finger along his jaw then down along his throat, feeling his pulse under her fingertip. Feeling where his heart pumped blood through him, letting him know he was alive.
"No time like the present," he murmured as he swept her up and carried her to bed.
-THE END -
Dear Reader:
Thank you so much for reading our book! We gave you a mystery, an adventure and a romance - all interwoven together. We wrote it over about 15 months and three continents, from the middle of the Adirondacks with no internet, to the Far East. Writing is a 'lonely' process in some ways, because the writer never knows if there is any audience for what we come up with and have spent our time creating for you. We are so happy you followed along. We really hope you enjoyed it. Please tell us how you think we did. We appreciate your feedback and comments - because you, the Reader, have encouraged us both to keep writing with your reviews and support. Let us know what you liked, what you hated, what you want more of - or just say "Hi."
Thank yous:
FallenBelle wants to thank Big Red and Little Guy for their patience and encouragement. She also wants to thank RuthieGreen for her extraordinary patience as FB worked, parented, homeschooled, and moved across the world during a pandemic. RG truly has the patience of a saint.
RuthieGreen wants to thank FallenBelle for such a great adventure. It has been a priceless gift to have this partnership with you - I cannot thank you enough! Bless you! Also thanks to "Big Red'' and the Little Guy for sharing her with me for more than a year. Also, Ruthie wants to thank: "Dutch" for read-throughs and patience; "46-Her" for suggesting we needed to use Ruby more centrally; RomanticNerd for getting me unstuck with the beginning of the story & all her stalwart encouragement; IdBeDelighted for initial feedback and advice. Thanks to Lovemondays for 'your' character & JH for her shout-out. Thank you Maureen Jennings, Peter Mitchell and the show writers - please keep 'em coming!
Authors' Notes:
We made a lot of things up BUT we tried to fit our story into actual Toronto and Niagara Frontier/Peninsula places, with actual people and events. We time-shifted a few things here or there for the sake of the story. Our original inspiration came from two things: Chaucer's The Pardoner's Tale and The Poisoner's Handbook, by Deborah Blum.
The internet is a wonderful thing: There really was one weekend where 44 people died from a batch of poisoned bootleg booze - from Rochester to Toronto (according to the wiki).
Poisonings were not only the #1 cause of death but were a larger number of deaths than shootings, stabbings, beatings and falls combined. There were enough lethal chemicals in most people's houses to kill the neighborhood a couple of times over.
Prohibition laws in the US and Canada had a lot of 'get arounds' including getting a prescription from a doctor for your daily rum ration or consuming a 'medicine' which was primarily alcohol (cough syrup back in the day - over the counter flu meds today.) Rich people hoarded alcohol for their own use. It was illegal to make alcohol and sell it, but people did make their own by fermenting whatever was handy for personal consumption - hence the term 'bathtub gin.'
Bootlegging was a thing - because the US border was so close and lots of illegal booze flowed from Canada to New York. Rocco Perri was the 1# bootlegger. He stole legit alcohol and/or redistilled it to remove poisonous adulterants. He was eventually convicted for diverting alcohol from Gooderham and Worts. We changed a few things but used him and his story for part of ours.
According to Wikipedia: In 1918, Rocco Perri began an affair with Sarah Olive Routledge, with whom he had two daughters; Autumn (born in 1919), and Catherine (born in 1921). After Autumn was born, Perri had refused to marry Routledge, but he did maintain a home for her in St. Catharines and paid child support. Their affair resumed in 1920. Perri's job as a macaroni salesman required travel across Ontario; he also used those trips to arrange the sale of liquor. Bessie Starkman, busy running the finances for their organization, did not question Perri's outings. In February 1922, Routledge was falsely told by Perri's lawyer that he was already married to Starkman. Despondent, Routledge committed suicide by jumping from her lawyer's seventh-story office window of the Bank of Hamilton; her parents took custody of their children. In the 1930s, Perri asked to see his daughters on weekends, although their grandmother would always accompany them for fear that he would take them. (We altered some details for our story.)
The Leaside Munitions Factory/Canada Wire, Gooderham & Worts & the layout and the denaturing building(s), St. Mark's in Hamilton, St. Paul's in Toronto, Union Station, the location of the train Station in Hamilton, the Royal Distillery in Hamilton - are all real places we have faithfully used (well, we did add a room to St. Mark's) as they were in 1922. Prudence Carter's house is based on the Scottish Rite in Hamilton, which was owned by a tobacco magnate when it was a private home.
We had a really, really good time looking up - and looking at - women's clothing, jewelry, shoes, purses, hairstyles, men's suits, motorcars and motorcycles, vintage maps, art and music.
RG has a box full of sheet music from the 20's - had to use that! That is where we got the music-references from. Alex Trebek (who was Canadian) passed away while we were writing, so George had to invent Jeopardy, of course.
Hemingway wrote for the Toronto Star; he even wrote about the practice of renting, rather than buying, art. According to Graeme Bayliss in the 3/7/12 Torontoist, Hemmingway said this about the constabulary: "Now the reason that Chicago is crime-ridden and Toronto is not, lies in the police forces of the two cities. Toronto has a force that for organization, effectiveness and esprit de corps is excelled nowhere in the world." He was also quoted as Ontario being the most protestant of places and "Of Torontonians he wrote, "We have come to the right place to have a baby because that is the specialite de ville. They don't do anything else." Hemingway was bored, sober, and surrounded by Protestants. Worse still, he was despised by his new editor at the Daily Star
Mr. Blackburn did run, and lose, for control board, and Alderman Birdsall existed. Charles A. Maguire was Mayor and Samuel Dickenson was Chief Constable. Toronto and Ontario was about to go through the Ontario Bond Scandal, revealing deep corruption, in just a few months.
The Jumping Horse show was a real entertainment- imagine a 60 foot plunge, horse and rider-yikes!
Putting a baby in the hayloft over the horses to get the fumes was a cure for cholera - yikes! Putting tubes into corpses and burning off the gases so the putrefaction does not accumulate (or let the corpses explode) we saw on the Alienist - too good not to use!
There was looting in WW1 - not the extent of it by the Nazi's in WW2 - but we built a story around that, too. We went to museums, took descriptions of WW1 nurses, doctors, trench warfare etc, the Spanish Flu pandemic, instruments of war and used them in our story. The Spanish flu did leave some people unable to see colours correctly. We found the list of Toronto police station houses and the men who died in the war. Station House No. 9 was hit the hardest - oddly, we could not find a plaque or monument to them - if you know where it is, let us know.
After WW1 and the pandemic, there was in fact a dearth of men, leaving many women with no marriage prospects. Many women, though, felt liberated, having obtained the vote, shed their corsets and been doing men's jobs while the men were at war - not quite to the extent after WW2, but close. One little thing we fudged: Liza could not have taught school as a married woman - we imagined she conveniently forgot to mention her marriage when applying for the job. The photograph of William and Liza is based on one of RG's maternal grandparents just before her grandfather went to war. We did not want to re-write Maureen Jennings' book - the only thing we stole was a reference to "Sweet Cap" cigarettes.
