The Lady, or the Tiger?
Chapter 13: The Night the Black Cats Crossed Paths with the Fishes
All of a sudden William remembered to tell her just as she was about to leave his office. "Oh, Julia!" There was excitement in his voice. "Tell me you don't think this is quite ironic…"
She turned back, and he helped her put her arm into her coat sleeve.
"Jake Castern called…" William started to tell his story.
"Is everything alright at the Body Farm?" she worried.
"No. No, everything's fine. But…" William helped straighten out her coat lapels and found his body reacting to being so close to hers, "Well, it is Halloween…."
"Yes…" Julia felt the romantic sparks too.
There was one of those delectable curls just dangling there.
William went on, glee in his voice, leading up to his punch-line, he added, "And we haven't had any phone calls about the booby-trap having been set off since that Gazette reporter got caught in it…"
"Mm-hmm," she stepped closer, wishing he would take the curl in hand, her whole body tingling with the possibility.
He did, squeezed and twirled it in his fingers, so close to her ear she could hear the rough crinkling of the strands rolling together within his grasp. Then William's fingers slid up her cheek to tuck back behind her ear, and he played so deliciously with her ear with his thumb, and she felt that wonderful dizziness swooping in.
He was forgetting his story – forgetting his point – forgetting how words even worked…
He kissed her, somehow not even aware that the blinds were up on his office windows, and tha the entire Constabulary would probably see.
There was a sound… stopping their kiss.
"George's phone," their thoughts each quickly offered the explanation.
But, already, they had separated.
"You were saying," Julia giggled.
Only a blank at first…
"Something ironic, about Jake at the body farm?" she led him back.
"Oh!" he remembered, "Oh yes. The booby-trap was triggered this morning…" William's eyes sparkled and glistened raising her anticipation.
"It was a black cat!" William gleamed, "A black cat, of all things, on Halloween, that got caught in the net up in the tree."
"Oh my," Julia exclaimed, "That is quite a coincidence."
"I wonder what it portends about our party?" William queried aloud.
"Only good things, I'm sure," Julia replied, cupping his cheek. Her gloved hand reminding him that she had been taking her leave. "Although…" her tone was delightfully mischievous, "It is a Friday… And the date is today thirteen reversed – 31."
She giggled at his frown.
"I'll be home soon," he offered as he ushered her to his door. William's phone rang, likely the call had been redirected by Crabtree…
Stepping back into the bullpen, Julia remembered that she had heard them on her way in, despite George's effort to hide it from her the moment she had appeared. The men, the constables, and she figured the Inspector was taking part as well, they were all betting on something, and Julia figured it was about whether or not William would keep his promise to her – to stay and host their own Halloween party with her tonight, or would he, instead, yield to his need to be in control of the case, to be there – at the Howell's 'Howell-oween Bash' in person. She sighed to herself, grateful she had caught William alone in his office to bid him farewell, to remind him that she was leaving early to ready the party with the caterers and the decorations, and to appeal to his fatherly instincts, encouraging him to come home early himself, so he could join her in taking their nearly two-year-old little boy out for his first Trick-or-Treating adventure.
Higgins stashed the papers, and she caught sight of a few bills too, into the top drawer of his desk in a rush as Julia closed William's office door behind her and finished buttoning up her coat. All conversation halted abruptly, and not an eye was on her, albeit for each constable's peripheral scope. Thus, none of them could see what would have warned William in an instant – Julia's Mona-Lisa-smile.
"How much does it cost to get in on the action, gentlemen?" she asked, knowing she was awful and cruel, knowing that it would cause them stress, "I assume the odds favor William showing up at the Riverdale Zoo this evening…"
"Uhhhh…"
It is interesting how hesitation and panic sound so noticeable when muttered by three different constables all at once.
An audible, "hmm," escaped as Julia's smile curled even further up on her lips and then abruptly straightened to allow her to better play her role. "Well, I hope so in this case. I'd like to wager in favor of my husband," she told them. "Is a dollar sufficient to get in the game?"
In unison George and Henry responded in opposites…
George placating, "Of course doctor…"
And Henry quibbling, "So far the lowest bet is two dollars."
"Oh, I see," Julia replied, digging into her purse and pulling out five dollars.
Henry opened the desk drawer and brought out the papers to record her bet.
"And the odds?" Julia asked, handing Henry the money.
"Well doctor," Henry peered down at his scribbles. It was a delaying tactic, he already knew the odds exactly…
George interrupted, "You and I can look forward to making a windfall, Dr. Ogden, if the detective stays at home with you tonight," he said while giving Henry the evil eye.
"Good. Thank you gentlemen," Julia said and then went on her way, the three constables huddling into a whispered spat before she had even managed to make it out of the stationhouse door. The only thing she could make out from their discussion was George's scolding, "The doctor doesn't need to know how skeptical you all are of the detective…"
…and then Whitehall's quip, "But really, twenty-to-one…"
She did the math in her head, "A hundred dollars!" she thought eagerly, and then suffered a pang of guilt, for these men did not have all that much money. She turned back.
"Actually constables…" Dr. Ogden's voice called their attention, breaking up their impromptu squabble. "William did seem to be quite invested in his maps…" she paused, "Um, maps of the listening device receiver radius around the Riverdale Zoo, I believe…" she flicked her chin up into the air pointing in the direction of her husband on the other side of his office windows, all three of the men turning to see the detective scribbling notes, and flipping from one map to another while talking agitatedly on the phone. Julia continued, "Um… just now. Perhaps I'd best change my bet. Would you allow me to wager just one dollar?"
Henry winked at Whitehall, cocky and rubbing it in, strutting, for he was even more confident that they had chosen the best wager now that the man's wife even doubted him. He returned his gaze to the doctor and replied, "Probably wise doctor. Detective Murdoch got a call from that French Inspector Guillaume a few hours ago, and then he rushed out of here like a barrel out of hel…"
George's gasp and stern stare halted Henry's intended curse in front of a lady.
Straightening out his uniform collar, Henry lowered his voice and explained, "He, um… the detective was ranting under his breath about how Meyers and Clegg were both at each other's throats again and how they were going to ruin both his robbery case and Guillaume's International Pink Panther Diamond case all in one blow. He went all the way over to the Riverdale zoo to handle the matter… Just got back half an hour ago."
"I see," Julia said, exchanging the bills to lower her bet.
As Julia made it to the threshold once more on her way out she was sure she heard Whitehall change his bet...
"Put me down for five dollars instead of two Henry," the third constable said.
"And I'm going to join you on that," Henry gleamed.
"A fool and his money…" Julia thought to herself. So quickly her inner-voice sarcastically offered up, "Yeah, and I hope you aren't the fool."
) (
William walked his bicycle down their front path while forcing himself NOT to look in the direction of the popup monster he had made to "trick" the trick-or-treaters. He was happy, and his analytical mind wrangled with that too. The emotion needed a cause, a reason, and so he hunted for it. His mind flashed an answer, in an image, a fantasy, maybe more a prediction, showing him Julia turning to see him walking in their front door, her face gaping at the surprise of the sight of him there, arriving home early, her face lighting up, and then he knew, his conclusion reached. William Murdoch found his ultimate happiness in making Dr. Julia Ogden happy.
Some would describe William's inventor's smile as 'devilish,' his body not even twitching at the explosion of motion and cackling, once he had triggered his Halloween invention by placing his foot to the first step. The monster was working perfectly.
Once inside however, it became obvious that his own creativity had been outdone by his wife's. The stunning decorations and the mouthwatering odors hit him with such overwhelming power that he felt his heart might burst. Julia had taken the theme of their Halloween costumes and run with it, transforming their home into a spectacular underwater world with her decorations – fishing nets, strewn seemingly everywhere, were speckled full with red lobsters and myriads of seashells and a full array of starfish and crabs, and there were paper mache fish, and squids, and bright, colorful corals, and seahorses of every size, and jelly fish, and turtles, and even a huge octopus, and all swam about, some dangling from the ceiling, others hung up on the walls, here and there. Placed around on the furniture, and, William noticed with delight that there were even some of them set out on the floors, there were big, treasure chests opened wide, offering guests hors d'oeuvres and Halloween candy…
William Jr. spotted that his father was home as William walked back into the foyer from the living room, his eyes still wide with his amazement of everything Julia had done.
"Daddy!" he gave his warning and ran for his father's arms.
On approach, William recognized that his son was not yet in his Triton costume, as he squatted down to the floor to catch his greeting son.
"Little Man!" he exclaimed, the boy landing with a wallop to be scooped up into his father's arms and lifted up high and laid out flat. The little one knew this game. They would be flying or swimming, and even though he wasn't even really two-fingers-held-up years old yet, he was smart enough to know that, today, it would be swimming.
Claire-Marie's big smile told how much she had come to adore both her charge, and the boy's handsome father. "Oh my," she declared watching them roughhouse and play. "Master Murdoch, you are quite the swimmer," she played along.
"I'm Prince Triton!" the toddler hollered out as if it were obvious.
"Yes, you are," his nanny gave. Claire-Marie's tone dropped down a few octaves as she asked her employer, "Do you think I should change him into his costume now, detective?"
William settled his son back down on the ground and replied, "It seems like a good time to me. Let me find his mother."
"Come, William Jr.," Claire-Marie held out her hand to the boy, "Let's go make you into a fish."
So excited, he hopped half the way to her. "A fast fishy!" he exclaimed.
"Fast indeed," William heard Claire-Marie tell the child as the two of them headed up the stairs. Turning and heading for the kitchen, he remembered the lovely smells that had first hit his nostrils when he stepped in the door. "My, it smells absolutely delicious. This is really going to be quite some affair," he told himself feeling his pride and excitement growing.
The kitchen was steamy and warm and bustling with activity. Julia was one of four women in the kitchen, but William's eyes found her instantly, hers the first figure he fixed upon, drawn to her by some unknown force. He only had the smallest of moments to reflect, to admire, to cherish her. She was so very beautiful, that fiery hair, and her contours, and her face… in all his days he had never seen such a beautiful, beautiful woman. Even now, still, after all these years, she sometimes caught him, stole his breath, made his heart skip a beat…
Her face beaming as she turned to him, having had caught his image out of the corner of her eye, odd and wonderful, how she had felt him there before she had seen him. "William!" her volume high, betraying her surprise, she called out, "You're home early!" she marveled.
The other women turned too. William realized one of them was Eloise.
Julia was wearing an apron, a part of him awed at the sight of her rushing to him, wiping her hands on it. There was such a lovely flash – a memory of his mother, for a second, and then it disappeared. So hard, he wanted to hold on to it, but it was gone.
She lowered her voice. Closer now, calmer now, she told him frankly, "I was a bit skeptical…"
William's face wrinkled into his "admitting-it expression," giving away the fact that he, too, knew himself well enough to doubt. At least, he figured, she knew it had not been easy for him to do. Lowering his own voice even more, noting out on the fringe around them that the other women had politely turned their attention back to their hurried preparations, he explained, "If you think about it, I had already lost control of the Pink Panther Diamond case when Alderman Lamb and Thurston Howell convinced Meyers and the Inspector not to arrest Sally…" He frowned and added, "Not to even permit me to check to see if Catfrey and Sally had already exchanged the real diamond for the fake…" William felt the heat of his bottled-up anger rising inside himself, gritting his teeth against his will as he elaborated, "…the fake we know they made because Catfrey planted his listening device in OUR HOME…" He swore for a second that he would even stomp his foot, but he brought his storming emotions under control, a mere hearty sigh all that sounded with his stopping himself.
"Well, I thank you William," Julia warmed, "And there's a little boy around here somewhere who's going to think he has the best Daddy in the whole wide world."
Pleased, Julia noticed that that thought had gotten a smile out of him.
"Yes," he gave, with a winsome bow, clamping his lips tightly with his accepting of it all as it was.
Julia watched as his eyes shifted to the kitchen table, and then to the stove.
William even turned his gaze into the dining room, the buffet partially spread out on the large table. There were lobsters and salmon, Eloise's delicious tuna fish casserole, crab cakes and shrimp… With such a spark, his brain fired out the recognizing, "It all makes sense!" so fast the connections clicked into place, "It's a Friday, and we are Catholic…"
"It's all fish," William exclaimed.
"Well of course, William," she nearly whispered, and then stepped close to him, and slipped her arms up around her husband's neck. "What else would you expect to eat at King Neptune's and Salacia's and Triton's party?"
And right then, right in that moment, he got it, and it made him so terribly, terribly happy. She had planned this whole thing all along – the shocking, revealing costumes were selected, not because they would show off his and Julia's physiques, but because Halloween was on a Friday. And Julia had planned from THAT starting point, knowing they would have to serve fish, and that was the reason she had chosen King Neptune and Salacia for them!
She watched, and she saw that he understood, that he appreciated, and her smile became humungous. She thought he might even be momentarily speechless, the thought making her giddy. She leaned close, floated her lips at his ear. "Yes, William," was all that she gave.
)
Time seemed of the essence, so William strove to quickly add his part to the indoor decorations, setting up his light-up moving image machines that each sprayed their walls and ceilings with shifting, vibrant projections of gurgling bubbles and swimming fish flowing about. William Jr. bounced from room to room to room, his bobbing fishtail stroking up and down behind him, trying to hurry his parents along, asking over and over again, "Tick-a-teat now? Tick-a-teat now?"
William and Julia hurried to get changed into their costumes, Julia wearing the more respectable beige camisole under her seashell bra and William's chest covered up in his blue pajama top. They hoped to return home before the first guests arrived. As the three of them reached the end of their path on their way out, they turned around to see that the popup monster had gone back down, ready to scare its next victims. Julia spotted some new ghosts fluttering up in the trees, and gave William's arm an adoring squeeze, for she imagined him making the ghosts out of sheets and then climbing up into the trees to hang them so that they would be just right.
"I am so lucky to have a husband who was once a lumberjack, now yet another way his many talents add spice to our lives," she said. She pointed up into the tree and asked her little son, "What did Daddy put up in the trees?"
"Ghosts!" William Jr. yelled, not yet having learned to tamp down his excitement when telling the answer.
)
The Murdoch's first Trick-or-Treating excursion was a success. The neighbors were highly receptive, and there were lots and lots of Halloween decorations to admire (though admittedly, none compared to William's popup monster), and everyone oohed and aahed over their Royal Sea Family costumes, and William Jr. got a big bagful of candy. The culmination was when they were coming home, and they got there just in time to be able to stand back and watch as a group of Trick-or-Treaters headed down their front path towards their front door. William and Julia, and mostly that little tyke of theirs, delighted in the show when the monster popped up, and all of the Trick-or-Treaters shrieked and jumped and startled, and then yelled out their excited declarations upon figuring out that, "it was just a trick," and sharing how scared they each had each been, one of them claiming that he hadn't been scared at all, and then pulling themselves together and braving continuing up the steps to ring the bell.
Claire-Marie had volunteered to give out the treats while the family was out. She reported on the fun everyone seemed to be having in coming to the Murdoch house to Trick-or-Treat.
Julia asked Claire-Marie to tend to William Jr. while she and William finished the details in preparing for the arrivals to come. She wanted him NOT to have the trident fork when the other children got here, worried it would accidently hurt someone, and she wanted him NOT to eat too much candy. Claire-Marie appeared to be getting somewhere with the candy request, but not so much with the trident fork request, Julia thinking she might have to intervene…
But what William leaned over and suggested in her ear was so wonderful, so amazing, that Julia let go of the whole trident-fork problem the moment he said it.
"Wife," he whispered, "I propose that, now that the more chilly and more public portion of our Halloween is complete, we head upstairs and remove the 'extra' parts of these costumes."
Julia really could not believe her ears, taken aback she simply stared at him, mouth agape, for a moment.
"William," she exuded, "how delightful."
Julia marveled in her head, as they headed back down the stairs together just a short time later, wearing little more than their jeweled crowns and their fishtails, at the accomplishments of psychotherapy. Although she was well aware that her talk with William a few nights ago, so intimate and warm in the middle of the night after he had had a bad dream and while sharing a cup of hot chocolate, had certainly not been officially 'psychotherapy,' she also knew that her helping him to see what he, himself, had been trying to tell himself had helped him immensely. Still, she found herself shaking her head at the astounding fact that a man as buttoned-up as William Henry Murdoch would allow himself to be seen in public – even if it was only at a private party in their own home – bare-chested. To be honest, she found it to be especially impressive that he would brave it when considering the humiliation and violation that William had gone through that horrible night out in the "jungle." Shaking off the distaste and hurt of imagining his pain, she smiled to herself as she thought, "William did this to make ME happy," and she treasured the glowy feelings of love for him that erupted in her chest with her coming to see, just how much, he wanted to please her.
)
The Murdoch Halloween Party was soon in full swing. Many guests had arrived, and fortunately for William Jr., quite a few of them had brought their children with them. The house was buzzing with conversation and laughter and stories, and clanking buffet dishes, and clinking glasses, and romping children of all sizes.
James Pendrick had come, dressed as a famous pirate from a popular novel series – the Tiger of Mompracem. He explained that his choice was predicated on wanting to fit in with the Julia's SEA theme.
Julia had caught her wandering eyes traveling down his ruggedly opened white shirt to notice that James Pendrick, too, must do some weightlifting – he was quite nicely contoured. A rush to take a sip of her wine, "Behave," she told herself in her head.
It was told that the Murdoch's costumes were courtesy of Mr. Pendrick, who was able to procure them because of his connections with people in the filmmaking industry, setting the listeners abuzz.
"It's a shame the star of my film about Detective Murdoch, um, if you happened to see it…" the now recognized film director said to the crowd who had gathered around himself and Julia.
A few people nodded.
"It was Constable George Crabtree who had the acting talent I needed," Pendrick grimaced, "Murdoch, um… well, he was… as you would expect if you know the man at all, I guess you'd say… Murdoch was annoyingly detailed."
Many, including Julia, laughed, for it was so perfectly said.
Pendrick went back to the film talk, "I'm sure George Crabtree would have loved to be here and tell you all about it," Pendrick told, as more joined near, listening to him and Julia tell the story.
Julia explained, "Constable Crabtree was needed to work on a case tonight, um..." she considered if it would be a mistake to say more. Unknowingly, she glanced across the room to find William, heartened by the reminder that her husband had stuck to his promise to be home helping her with hosting this party tonight despite his desire and compulsion to be directly at hand on the most important night of his big home-invasion robbery case. A sigh escaped her unconsciously, for it seemed quite a few of the ladies at their party also appreciated William's bold choice about being a bare-chested King Neptune as much as she did. She noted their wandering eyes as they swarmed around him like honey to a bunch of bees. She held back a giggle, for she spotted her new student, Annie Cranston – also of the Murdoch Appreciation Society, dressed as a mummy, was one of the admirers, along with her friend from the Murdoch Appreciation Society, that high-spirited reporter, Ruby Rosevear, aptly, Julia thought, dressed tonight as a rather nude-like bronze statue. Miss Rosevear had always been profoundly… devoted, if not somewhat enamored, with William. To balance against Julia's tilt towards being jealous, her mind reminded that Miss Rosevear had been quite helpful as an ally to them back when the press had been badgering them incessantly about not having solved the Body Dumper case, and impelling their readership, and seemingly most of Toronto, with demands that the city force them to close their Body Farm… And then she felt the sting, before her brain actually finished the thought, she remembered that the press had also been hounding them terribly, cruelly, about all their problems with adopting a child. She took a sip of her wine, pushing the pain away. "Back to the main point," she thought, Miss Rosevear is keeping herself close at hand… very close at hand," her final thought on the matter lifting her eyebrow to herself subtly.
Pendrick had picked up the slack in their story, going on to magnanimously tell the tales of the making of his first film – with sound, and how, "as always seems to happen whenever Murdoch is around, there was a murder, and, also of course, Detective Murdoch thought it was ME who had committed it at first, but then he figured out that I was actually the INTENDED VICTIM, and then in the end, he figured out who the murderer was and he caught her."
"Well actually," Julia interjected with an air of cockiness, "I caught her…"
"Oh yes," Pendrick gave with a winsome bow to her, "A woman of action, of that there is no doubt."
Julia thought she saw it, Pendrick's eyes drop down to soak in the sight of her clamshell-squashed breasts. "Behave," Julia counselled herself, stiffly forcing her own eyes to stay up, not to catch his eye, instead turning to another, commenting that the killer had been the film's editor.
Only a few minutes later, William received his first phone call of the night from George at the Riverdale Zoo where he was keeping a lookout during the Howell's 'Howell-oween Bash.' Deciding that the noise down in the foyer was too much for him to make out George's report, William went upstairs to their bedroom to take the call.
The constable's speech was quick and animated, prompting William to think that things must be going well. William stood by their bed listening as George filled him in, "Higgins spotted a man working in the coat room who 'accidentally' took Madame Reveron's purse with her coat…"
This was fantastic! "Do you have someone watch…" William began to ask.
"Oh yes sir," George interrupted, "Higgins is watching the suspect, and we have Whitehall, remember sir, Constable Whitehall's dressed as a waiter, he's keeping an eye on Madame Reveron. And sir!" George's pride and enthusiasm bubbled, "We found it, sir! Well, actually, Inspector Guillaume's wife, Angelique, found it. She is an astounding woman, sir. Very… err, forward, I'd say… Perhaps that is just being French…"
William's jaw became rigid with his efforts at patience…
George managed to meander back to the point, "Mrs. Guillaume had a look inside Madame Reveron's purse, held it for the woman when she used the toilet… At least, I guess that's what happened when the two of them went into the bathroom. It is the 'Ladies' room after all, sir, so I couldn't directly see of course…"
William's sigh sounded in the phone…
Rushing the lovable constable in response to the noise, George finally said, "There was a listening device, sir… just like the ones from the other robberies…"
"And from my house," William steamed the reminder of the personal insult in his head, still furious that Neil Catfrey had planted a listening device in Julia's purse that night when the strutting man dared flirt with her so brashly, and danced with her… and then that maddening image of the suave, swaggering, good-looking Neil Catfrey dipping HIS wife back so romantically, while they were out there, for all to see, on the dance floor, stabbed through him once more…
"Good George. It was wise to keep the Reveron's in the dark," he was relieved to hear his own voice taking back control, "they might have given us away if they knew," William praised, "But now we have the responsibility to…"
"I know sir, I know. Now it's up to us to stop the man before he robs her and her husband. We'll wait him out, follow him to wherever he has the receiver for the listening device hidden. If you're right sir – and I'm sure you are, the suspect will go there before the Reveron's leave the party for the night."
"Best send a man or two ahead to the Reveron's house, constable. Catching him there will provide the evidence we need to convict him, as well as keep the Reveron's out of any significant danger," William instructed.
"Of course! I don't know why I didn't think of that," George complained, embarrassed.
"There are many moving parts to this, Constable. And it sounds as if you have matters well at hand. I'll be waiting for updates," William hoped to ensue confidence as he signed off the call. His whole body itched with his wishing that he was there. The pressure building, he blew out through his lips, almost making a whistle. Then he noticed his black goatie beard had fallen off of his chin. "Probably from rubbing against the phone," he told himself as leaned down to retrieve it off the floor. He headed back downstairs pressing and urging the beard to adhere to his chin once more, battling with trying to appear athletic while confronting the steps while wearing the tight-kneed fishtail. His mind ventured to the other case, the one George had not mentioned, the one he was officially NOT working on, and he wondered if anyone was keeping an eye on Sally.
)
As James Pendrick and Julia finished their stories of the filmed adventures of Detective William Murdoch, Mrs. Kitchen noticed that there was someone else from Stationhouse #4 besides Constable Crabtree who was not at the Murdoch's party. She asked if Inspector Brackenreid and his wife were coming tonight. "They are both so lively," she added hopefully.
William's popup monster's bone-chilling laugh from the front of the house sounded again, and all eyes turned towards the front door. The latest round of Trick-or-Treaters could be heard screaming outside with their unexpected fright. Julia hurried a last sip of her glass of wine as she readied to go to the door and she responded to Mrs. Kitchen's question, "I believe the Brackenreid's were invited to the "Howell-oween Bash' over at the Riverdale Zoo."
Many eyebrows lifted. "The Howell's are amongst the most hobnob of all Toronto society," the director of Julia's University, Dr. Stowe-Gullen, shared.
"Most definitely," Julia agreed, standing and fluffing and fussing with the top, sequined-skirt, portion of her long, rubber fishtail.
Thinking she would bring her son with her to the door, Julia glanced over near the foyer to where William Jr. was on the living room floor playing with Enid's little girl, Alice. The three or four older children had abandoned them, most likely because they were 'too little,' and had taken over the playroom downstairs. Julia called to them, "William Jr.! Alice! Trick-or-Treaters."
She grasped her little boy's hand, helping him up to his feet in his confining Triton costume, inviting him and his friend to come with her to the door to see the costumes of the Trick-or-Treaters, who just at that particular moment had overcome their shock at William's popup monster sufficiently to manage to ring the doorbell. As she passed by their young nanny, the woman's actions impressing her by aptly balancing letting her tiny charge enjoy the other children and play, but at the same time watching him attentively, Julia paused to ask, "Claire-Marie, I suggest this be William Jr.'s last Trick-or-Treaters for the night. Let's spare the little one, hmm?" Julia rubbed the top of her son's head unconsciously admiring his black curls, "No more need to struggle with the fishtail. We'll take it off for the rest of the evening… That way that he'll have a better chance at keeping up with the other children."
The nanny smiled. "I believe that will make the wee one happy, doctor," she agreed.
Headed for the door Julia's thoughts returned to the conversation in the living room. Gratefully, Julia had been able to hold off her self-congratulatory smile until she was out of the living room, for she was abundantly pleased with herself. She had been quick to think on her feet back when William had first come to suspect that Neil Catfrey was after the Pink Panther Diamond, and he had worried that he would not be able to be at the Howell's Howell-oween Bash because of their own Halloween party that same night. She had promised him then that she would get someone competent from the Constabulary invited to the Howell's fancy party, and she did. It had turned out that the snobby Thurston Howell had invited her and William to his party. Not liking the man much, the snooty toff always reminding people to call him, "Thurston Howell - THE FIRST…" Julia caught herself being catty, thinking snidely, "the snob is SO certain his "Lovey" will soon give him an heir." There it was again, that sting, bringing her to sigh. Her brain went back to her big success… She had intended all along to turn down the invitation. Figuring that the shallow man and his wife were as much interested in procuring the attendance of her celebrity husband as they were interested in her good Ogden name, she had suggested that if Mr. Howell wanted a distinguished Constabulary presence at his party, he should consider inviting her husband's superior. Thurston Howell, the First, being so haughty, the word 'superior' had done the trick. Julia shook her head at the coup, for surely securing such an honor for Margaret, whom she knew would be beside herself with receiving such an invitation, was only the icing on the cake after having been able to help William with his case.Margaret Brackenreid would likely never know that it was her who had gotten it done. "A lovely little secret," she thought. Besides she and William both wanted to be with their young son to celebrate Halloween, to get to enjoy seeing the many odd traditions through his fresh eyes.
"Would you both like to hold the bowl of candy with me?" she asked Alice and her son. It was perfect, truly perfect.
)
Alone in the dining room momentarily, having returned from the latest round of answering the door to Trick-or-Treaters, Julia gratefully poured herself a glass of whiskey. Her thoughts dwelled on what had just happened, one of their neighbors, a slimy man, she realized now she had always thought, had been rudely suggestive with her in front of, not only his own children, but also in front of his wife. She re-heard his grating voice in her mind, "It seems your husband provided the trick, doctor, but it is YOU, in THAT costume…" his eyes down on her and his sleazy sneer nauseating her, "that is the treat," he had said while gaping down at her clamshells. Every fiber of her wanted to slap the scuzzy creep in the face! Almost back to the lively chatter of the living room, she took a sip appreciating the warm sting of the liquor down her throat, "Thank God William wasn't there to see," she tried to see the bright side, a part of her thrilled with her imagining William punching the man in the nose.
A rowdy herd of children barreled up the stairs, swerving left and right around her in pursuit of… "Oh my," her happy mother heart exclaimed, for the baby was having an absolute blast. His stuffed dinosaur in hand, he was the center of all the other children's attention. Unfortunately, even though he had been freed of his fishtail, his tininess slowed him down sufficiently, being the youngest one of the bunch, that catching him did not take long at all. Relief though, for the little boy's mother, because the biggest boy in the lot chose to carry little William Jr. – with his treasured dinosaur clutched tightly to his tiny chest – back down into the playroom, with all the other children yapping, and skipping, and going along behind.
At the entrance into the living room, Julia paused to take in the sight. People were having a good time. Talk was vibrant, food and drink abundant. She spied William across the room, thinking to herself with a chuckle that he seemed to be grateful to be amongst other males for a break from all the female flirtations. William appeared to be listening to a rather entertaining story, along with nearly all of the men in attendance at the party, amongst them Enid's young and good-looking husband, the fireman, Julia's own professorship mentor's husband, John Gullen, and another of her Charity friend's husbands – his name she could not remember, as well as Isaac and Isaac's 'friend,' James. The storyteller was the young Mr. Hume, the only man here tonight who was a member of the original Murdoch Appreciation Society, from back when the group had made up a fake case to test William's skills… a fake case that had turned out to be real, she remembered. Mr. Hume was dressed as a cowboy. Suddenly, Julia's brain jolted! "Of course!" she exclaimed to herself, "It's a theme. The four members of the original Murdoch Appreciation Society are each wearing a costume from one of William's cases! How clever! Mrs. Dewar is Sherlock Holmes, Miss Cranston is a mummy…
But with that thought, Julia's brain sent her an associated memory, the emotion of it arriving first. The familiar bite was that of jealousy, and the memory was of the first and only time that she had met the, notably attractive, Egyptian archeologist. William had worked on a case with this stunning woman, back when she had first been married to Darcy. And then, she remembered, William had subsequently, years after that case, had dinner – all alone in their hotel suite, with this evocative woman. Back then Julia had wondered if she would ever forgive herself for cancelling that night, unknowingly leaving William alone with this gorgeous and intriguing woman. A stab of shame tore through her unexpectedly, for she caught herself thinking that she need no longer worry about the threat of William being taken with the other beautiful doctor, for Dr. Iris Bajjali had died when trying to escape with the Holy Grail.
"So," she urged herself out of the quagmire of guilt, "Miss Cranston is the mummy, and the very frisky and alluring Miss Rosevear is one of the victims from that bizarre case with the copper-encloaked naked women, each one of their bodies showing up, humiliatingly displayed, in a public park, and Mr. Hume is a cowboy from the case with Buffalo Bill. Rather marvelous," she gave the creative group, then thought, her big blue eyes back, once more, dallying on her own handsome husband, "So astounding, this man, full of surprises, just suddenly hops up and rides a horse, and ropes an escaping murderer… or climbs up a precipitous pole to disarm a bomb, for, of course, William Murdoch had also been a lumberjack. And, besides all his physical prowess, he has a brain that can figure out how a murderer can manage to get dead women encased in copper sulfate…His intelligence had always, always intrigued her. "I wonder," Julia's inner voice talked to her in her head, "if William has already put it all together, the Murdoch Appreciation Society's grand clandestine mystery about their costumes."
Abruptly, their eyes met from across the room, setting off a spark in her. Her instincts hollered at her to look away, not to get caught peeking at him, but she resisted, held to his gorgeous chocolaty eyes and smiled. He smiled too, and then Isaac turned to look. Too much, that. Julia turned to attend to a different group. "Mrs. Dewar," she called, "Sherlock Holmes! Such a perfect costume for you."
"Dr. Ogden," the older woman greeted, "Thank you so much for inviting me and the other members of the Murdoch Appreciation Society."
"Why, of course," Julia gave, stepping closer. Julia had used the invitation as a way to thank Mrs. Dewar and the others for their support back when the press had been so awful. It was Mrs. Dewar who had written the Op-Ed that had done much to tamp down on the attacks on herself and William in the headlines. Madge Merton, whose timely article had helped immeasurably, had also been extended an invitation, but unfortunately the famous gossip columnist could not come – it turned out she was attending the Howell-oween Bash instead.
On his side of the room, finding his bothersome goatie beard had once again fallen off, William excused himself and went down to his workroom to try a stronger adhesive. That was when he discovered that the playroom looked as if it had been hit by a tornado. There were toys everywhere… toys William did not even know that William Jr. owned. He surprised himself however, for his reaction to the messy sight was joy rather than annoyance – his little son was having the experience of a lifetime with all his new friends. William Murdoch could not have been happier.
Arriving back upstairs, it was now William's turn to stand back and bask in Julia's beauty, and grace, and… zing. "She is gorgeous," his mind warmly exhaled the thought, and he wondered how he had ever ended up being so very lucky. He remembered Guillaume, all those years ago when they had ridden together in that carriage, and the Frenchman had told him that he could tell that he was in love with, "that coroner" because, as Guillaume had said it back then, "of the way YOU sneak glances at her when she's not looking. The way SHE sneaks glances at you…" So wonderful, to still be so in love with each other after all this time.
He walked up next to her and wrapped an arm around her waist. With everyone watching, he leaned over and gave her a kiss on the cheek. "Our son is having the time of his life downstairs," he told her.
"Isn't it delightful," she whispered back, then giving him a soft peck of his own at his ear in return.
Remembering that Julia had recently received word that she won the Annual Canadian Coroner's Association Award, William then proceeded to share about her success with their guests. "She'll be giving a big speech," he went on.
Gracious, Julia called over the two students who had worked with her on the research that the prestigious national association had cited as the particular paper that they were most impressed by. It had been based on the work they had done at their Murdoch Body Farm. It seemed oddly fitting, somehow, after all they had been through with the press calling for the city to force them to close down their "morbid" Body Farm, that it would be THAT particular research article that had ended up making Toronto stand out as the best in the country.
)
Augusta Stowe-Gullen and Julia sat together on an end of one of the sofas, enjoying the chance to catch up with each other. "The award you're getting is quite a feather in the cap for our College, Julia," Augusta, the Director of the Ontario Medical College for Women, commended. The older woman noticed Julia glance over towards the fireplace before she gave her response, agreeing and expressing her excitement with the professional achievement. Augusta smiled to herself realizing that Julia Ogden's handsome husband was over there, explaining the woman's glance, easily the third one since they had been sitting here talking. She considered making some comment, maybe something like, 'our students seem quite taken with your husband," for Detective Murdoch was surrounded by the young women in Julia's class, and few others, she noted, taking a look to see for herself.
William wished there was a way to back them off a bit, increasing the pressure of the ledge of the fireplace mantle into his back as he tried in earnest to broaden the distance between himself and their feminine attentions. The women had become enthused by their discovery of his scars. Quickly, William bolted a glimpse across the room to Julia, looking stressed.
"This one is so close to your heart. May I touch it?" one of the women asked him. This particular woman, dressed in a tight, thin, extremely revealing, black cat costume, was especially forward, William had already noted earlier.
"I'd prefer not," he answered, reaching up and stopping her hand. Afterwards, his throat so dry, he swallowed.
Across the room, Julia nearly gasped at the sight. Mrs. Stowe-Gullen felt herself sit up straighter.
Then another of the young students asked, her eyes wide with taking in the view of William's well-contoured left pectoral muscle. "I'll bet this one's from a bullet!" she giddied to the others.
William could not help it – he just had to step back. "Yes," he answered. He decided it best to touch the scar up near his shoulder himself, physically blocking them, at least a little, with his arm. "But… err, it… um, it was treated by a native medicine woman – an Algonquin healer."
Julia tried to explain to her friend and colleague, fighting to pull her eyes away from the scene to find Augusta's eyes, "It's these rather revealing costumes… all the attention."
"It is quite something," Augusta marveled, a hidden part of her, herself, guiltily entranced with the beauty of both Julia, and her husband, and the delicious attention the man was receiving, and Julia's obvious infatuation with the man, and her coping with all that was going on.
William abruptly excused himself. On his way past Julia and her friend he stopped and said, "This fishtail is so hot by the fire I had to get away."
"Are you sure it was the fire?" Julia teased, her sly smile intoxicating.
Taking a quick glance back over to the fireplace where the cluster of young women had huddled close together and become engaged in prattled whispers, William blew out some of his pent-up pressure.
The sweet gesture prompted Julia to laugh.
"A glass of water," he said lifting his eyebrows high and widening his big eyes, then giving the briefest of nods and heading off towards the kitchen.
"My goodness, he is adorable," Augusta confided, leaning closer to Julia and divulging her inner thoughts.
"I'd best give him some attention," Julia explained, swigging the end of her whiskey and standing to follow after him.
)
They were alone together in the kitchen, Julia noticed with glee upon finding William at the kitchen sink. She approached and he turned to her. "Quite a turnout," she started, and in her own mind she tingled-up a little memory of her nervous use of that same exact comment to him back when she had surprised him by showing up at the Policeman's Annual New Year's Ball at the turn of the century, and somewhat ironically it had turned out, at a major turn in their lives as well, her in her shocking red dress, back then so very nervous and needing some small talk to cope. She remembered she had joked at the time that it would be a good night to commit a crime, and then her mind reminded her that right at this very moment it was possible that William's robber may be doing just that. With all that, she felt a warmth of gratitude and an inner need to thank her lucky stars that she had such a wonderful man as her life-partner, her soul mate, standing right there with her, in this moment, all things considered. She went on, "Are you having a good time?" she asked him, adding quickly, "There's nice conversation… and the young women seem to like you…" There was a devilish smile.
"They are very direct," he interjected, then offered, "Maybe it's their youth, or being in a group of confident friends." William shook his head showing his dismay, and confided, "They just say what's on their mind." He took a sip of his water.
Tact not always her high suit, Julia plainly blurted, "It's plain what they want from you, William, is sex."
A cascading spray of water suddenly spewed through the air as William's shock caused him to accidently inhale, and then choke on, his water.
Julia giggled.
William asked, his voice scratchy with choking and disbelief, "You believe each of those women want to…"
"I do, William. And you do too," Julia's voice had become husky and low, and so seductive. Thus, when she stepped closer to him he felt his inner realms start to hum, and pulse, and begin to vibrate. Her mouth so close to his ear he felt the heat of her breath as she said, just under it, "Don't deny it." She lifted her cheek to slide it up his jawline and over his cheek, then so tenderly, she kissed his temple and told him, "They want to feel those long lashes glance their cheeks," and her hands rode up his arms to wrap around his neck as she added, "And those muscly arms holding them in place," and then she slid her hands down and rubbed tantalizingly over the ups and downs of his bare chest telling, "And, delicious William, they imagine the heavenly sensation of this fine chest pressed firmly, solidly, hard…" Julia stepped that final inch to touch her soft, marshmallowy body into him, him feeling the surprising cold, hardness of the two ridged clamshells startle his skin, the sensation catching his breath, as she exhaled her hot words, "….pressing and pushing against their breasts…" and she kissed his lips, and then changed the angle and kissed him deeper. "And, mmm, the way you would move, William," she moaned as, ever so slightly, Julia began to wiggle erotically against him, "smooshing and driving and storming your manly body into them over and over again and, oh… yes, finally, perfectly, the thrusting culminating so powerfully, with those tight, hunky haunches…"
Thinking he had managed to resist her charms, he smiled, for he had held up, not fallen into the wobbles that threatened collapse into a soupy brained, unmanageable hunger for her. He carefully placed the water glass down in the sink and teased, the hint of a smile curved on his lips through her kisses, which intermittently released his lips to let him speak, her lusty lips now fluttering over his jaw down to his neck. "So, Mrs. Murdoch," his tone promised his poking, "I am just the same thing to you, a mere toy for your sexual pleasure?"
Her giggle purred at his ear, "Oh no, William, I want much, much, more…" luscious kisses poured over his flesh, "I want your heart…" and her hand covered his heart as she kissed him more, "I want your soul," so dizzying, her hand now moving, and rubbing, and devouring over his heart and all over his chest, and down, down lower, to ripple up and down over the hilly muscles of his firm stomach…
Unbearable, the twitch, and sparks, and sizzling shooting straight to his groin, making him, forcing him, to gasp. He was so, so dizzy…
Julia's tempting, luring, calling, slaying, continued past what seemed the point of no return for him, "I want ALL of your heart, and ALL of your soul, I want every delicious drop of you, William. Every delicious drop. I want your love, William. I want to make LOVE with you, not just se…"
The plunge, suddenly, unexpectedly, so disorienting all at once, pulled out of euphoria by a sound.
"Oh my!" someone else's voice in the room shot them apart.
They'd been caught canoodling, the panic of the realization electrified through them! William and Julia's eyes bolted to see Julia's friend, Caroline, standing at the kitchen's entrance.
"Oh… Caroline!" Julia's voice, too high-pitched, tried to stabilize. Fretfully, she reached a hand up to her hair in an effort to straighten it, to be presentable.
"Please, please," Caroline reassured them both, "That's not necessary. Honestly, you two have been ogling each other all night," she chuckled, going on, "like two young lovers." She shook her head marveling, "Believe me, no one would be surprised to find you had finally snuck off together somewhere."
Odd, the woman's eyes seemed to become stuck, caught, stunned by something lower, something unexpected down on Julia's…
William and Julia each followed the woman's gaze.
Oh! The air seemed to be sucked out of the room in an instant as they each saw it there – William's goatie beard had fallen off – again, and now had lodged itself in the sexy intimacy of the cleavage between each of Julia's… clamshells! Amazing how fast the brain can work, for both William and Julia experienced the same internal connection, although neither of them would ever come to know it had happened, both of them touching so rapidly to the same shared and poignant memory – being reminded of Julia's metal locket, all those years ago, clicking magnetically to William's badge.
"Caroline," Julia gasped the words, "You must think he was… um," she tried desperately to lift the black tuft from between her breasts, finding that now, of all times, the adhesive had managed to stick tight.
William's beautiful eyes darted from cleavage, to Caroline, to Julia, back to cleavage. "The adhesive seems to work better on you than on me," he offered with an embarrassed chuckle. Inside of himself, he was battling desperately with his instincts to help, torn by the concern that it would be seen as too suggestive for him to reach in and touch Julia – there… while Caroline was watching them.
A shared smile, Julia raised her prize proudly up into the air. Thank God, she had the beastly item in her fingers. Both exhaling their relief, she tenderly reaffixed the sticky side of the fake beard to William's chin. Finished, she trumpeted a, "Voila," presenting the, now perfect, royal King Neptune and his wife Salacia once more. The two of them turned, gratefully recovered from it all, to face Caroline.
The woman's eyes boldly perused thoroughly up and down over the two of them. She shared her thoughts, "Mm, you two Murdoch's do make a good-looking couple – absolutely gorgeous," she praised.
Helping to save the adults from the uncomfortable pause, a herd of squealing children rumbled through, rushing to hide themselves here and there, under the table, behind the hutch. It was a game of hide-and-seek!
Julia quickly glanced to her husband, knowing he would want to take up with the play.
"Oh no!" she screamed out, "The Daddy Monster's going to get us!" She dove under the table to join two of the children hiding there. "Shh," she shushed them excitedly, pretending to hide with them.
"ROAR!" William's playful growl sounded, sending wild, gleeful shrieks throughout the whole house as children from myriads of different hiding places took flight. The game spilled out into the living room where two of the other fathers joined in, becoming Daddy Monsters themselves, snarling, and limping about and becoming all around ferocious.
The two youngest children, William Jr. and Enid's Alice, made their usual mistake, not yet fully grasping how to really play hide and seek at their age, unable to tolerate the secret, the tension, of hiding, they called out, telling the monsters where they were hiding. "Over here!" Alice called, followed by the two children's excited giggles cascading out from behind the piano over in the corner of the room.
Suddenly, from behind the curtains, the oldest boy jumped out to distract all the monsters from the littlest ones, screaming loudly head-on into their collective fierce faces and then charging for safety from the fiends. Two of the other children, and Julia, saw the fleeing boy coming right towards them, scary monsters in tow, from where they stood at the entrance into the living room. Such squeals as they all split up, one down to the playroom, Julia up the stairs, and the other child back into the kitchen. The oldest boy, too, rushed down the stairs, his own father chasing after him. William raced after Julia up the steps. The third Daddy Monster, Enid's husband and little Alice's father, scurried after the child headed for the kitchen. So quickly, Alice and William Jr., not wanting to miss out on anything, hurried down into the playroom too.
Julia could be heard crying out as she tried to hop up the stairs, "William! I can't run in this costume!"
"Me either," he hollered after her. But, he was gaining on her as, comically, the two of them engaged in a slow-motion hopping race up the stairs, much like salmon leaping and flinging themselves upstream, and then he dove down onto her as they rounded the corner halfway up the stairs, taking the brunt of the weight on his arms to keep her safe as they fell together onto the upper portion of the stairway landing.
Again, his beard fell off, prompting him to get the bright idea of trying to put it on Julia's chin. His voice still excited, he told her, "You made a very good-looking man in the past, milady. I do believe it is time to try it again."
"William!" she screamed, "Don't you dare," her voice lowered.
Her beautiful, big, blue, eyes, so magnetic, stole his breath, stunned him as he hovered there above her. Chests heaving together, breathless, madly in love, Julia tilted her head, inviting his kiss.
"Mmm," he was so soft, his tongue dipped in.
Magnificent, this kiss.
Slowly, they remembered where they were, Daddy-Monster roars and high-pitched shrieks reaching in from outside through the vibrant spin of their love. William broke off their kissing.
"Perhaps…" his voice so lovely, still raspy from his desire in her ear, "the beard would be more appreciated by William Jr."
"Sounds wise," she whispered a gentle response.
William rolled off of her onto his back, the two of them together staring up at the ceiling, basking in the happy dizziness, breathing heavily, giving themselves the moment.
Julia wondered, "Do you remember that night, when we got home from Peter Pan…"
"Mm," he gave.
Julia giggled, contagious, William did too. "You… I still can't believe you did it!" she marveled, "Taking my feather. William Henry Murdoch – a thief. Running off with my hairband's bright red feather, unbelievable where you put it," Julia rolled herself up to prop up on an elbow and look into his eyes. She leaned down and gave him a quick, admiring, kiss.
William reached out, grasped a curl, sparkly and luminous with its glittering green seaweed weaved and braided into it. So lovely, the way his fingers caressed against her cheek. "And you, wife. Such a vixen, hmm? Seducing me, stealing it back, leaving me there, all… aroused."
Julia found it to be absolutely adorable, the way William needed to swallow with his discomfort in using the word – 'aroused,' to describe his own hardened state.
Julia's hand rubbed his chest, and her laughter rocketed. "I'll never forget the sight of you, William," she fell back into laughter, and her eyes twinkled into his as he laughed as well, William remembering, knowing, exactly what it was that she was going to say, "Flying, just like the never-growing-up Peter Pan himself, sprawled out flat, soaring through the air in our hallway…" the laughter reddening her face, needing to breathe, she finally spit the rest of it out, "Your trousers tripping you up while you tried to run, pants wrapped down around you ankles!" She collapsed down onto him and he tucked his arms around her tight.
"So undignified," William stated the obvious, the vibrations of his voice tickling her eardrum as she lay on top of him, collapsing them both back into laughter once more.
Julia, exhausted, plopped back down onto her back next to him. The ceiling in her view once more she said, "It's one of my favorite memories."
"We have so many good ones," he said next to her.
"And bad ones," she made an effort to be realistic, balanced.
"Those just serve to make the good ones better," William encouraged.
"That they do," she agreed.
Quiet, for a moment, between them.
Julia's voice broke the spell. "There's such a lovely little boy inside of you William," she said. "I see him sometimes, like that night you stole my feather, and when you're playing with William Jr., or… sometimes, when you're tinkering with some invention, or you've gotten excited about something in a journal you've read, or you've seen something that has awed you about the world," Julia paused, searching deeper. "You had to grow up so quickly, when you were so young. I think that's why that little boy is still in there - it's like he got frozen inside of you when you became a man, in just a day…"
"I think it was you, who thawed him out," William said, now turning to her.
She smiled. She propped up again, cupped his cheek and said, "What a good man that little boy became."
A tear shimmered and quivered, harbored by his thick, long, black lashes.
William sat up, Julia following suit, the two of them sitting together on the stair-landing, their long fishtails laid out in front of them on the lower platform.
Julia reached over and took a gentle hold of his chin, then turned his face to hers. "I'm afraid I've made you sad," she said.
"No. No, what you said is beautiful. I just..." He stopped abruptly, for wishing was mere whimsy.
"What were you going to say, William?" Julia urged him to share more.
He frowned, then wrinkled his mouth admitting to it. "I wish my mother had not died that early is all, that she could have seen me grow, could have met you..." The glistening tear burst free and streamed down his cheek before he rushed to bat the childish spurt away. He finished, his voice choked up now, "I wish she had been able to know William Jr. She would have adored him, would have loved him so much." William's big eyes looked into hers, no shame at all of his tears… not when he was with her. He shook his head, pushing at the pain, "That little boy would have loved her so much." His lips clamped together, bearing it.
"Yes," she treasured his tears as much as she wiped them away, "William Jr. would have adored his grandmother immensely." Julia leaned closer, a tender taste of the saltiness with her kiss to his cheek. She swallowed it down, felt the heat of it spread through her. "Do you know what I wish, William?" she asked, not expecting a reply, "I wish your mother could have seen you, could have known what an amazing and good, good, man you are."
William wiped at another tear, fought against the pain by self-deprecating, "She wanted me to be a priest. At least Susana…"
Julia nestled even closer to him on that one step halfway between up and down together, hugged his arm, "William," her tone strong, firm, so confident and sure and steady that he was drawn to it, that he knew it would comfort him down into his core, "There is a decency, an honest regard for every person and every single thing in this world, in you, that would have fulfilled your mother's every hope until it spilled over with pride and joy for her son, I promise you that."
His eyes, so gorgeous, and big, and warm, warm chocolate brown, held hers as he seemed to float there, lingering, about to, so very close to, accepting wholly his mother's love for him. Like a warm breeze, she nudged, "That's what I wish…" and the biggest teardrop in all the world fell, and was caught by her thumb on his face, and then a kiss.
There was a phone call, drawing their attention to hush and listen to hear as Claire-Marie hurried from the playroom to answer the call.
"Detective…" Claire-Marie's voice raised loud enough to make it over the party's din.
From halfway up the stairs at the bend, William and Julia realized by her voice being aimed directly at them, that their extended fishtails could be seen poking out on the landing. Julia peeked her head around the corner.
"It's Constable Crabtree, for the detective, doctor," Claire-Marie informed.
"Thank you, Claire-Marie," she answered. "Please wait there until he gets it, he'll take it up here," she requested.
It was profoundly difficult to get up from the floor in their leg-clamping fishtails. Stronger, and closer to the handrail, William managed to stand. Laughing together, Julia still struggled.
"I feel like I'm pregnant all over again," she giggled, turning her body this way and that, trying to rock to get momentum. Failing miserably, she huffed. She would have to accept the immodesty of it, having refused William's help. It would have to be the more childish way, rolling over onto one's hands and knees to be able to lift one's self up. Giving it a try, Julia discovered that, entwined in this clinging fishtail, even that was challenging, unable to fully bend her knees, and unable to separate her legs, it was nearly impossible to pull a leg forward to place it under her body to push herself up.
There was a sigh, William heard her, as he watched, thrilled by the show.
The only way to accomplish getting up was for Julia to keep her feet together, hold her knees together and tight, and then 'walk' her hands backwards, getting closer and closer to her feet, the action lifting her magnificent, shapely bottom, particularly in this tight-fitting mermaid-like costume, higher and higher, swaying it sexily left and right, up into the air…
The sight shot a thunderbolt charging directly to William's groin, erupting it into a scrumptious throbbing.
"Now it seems, milady," William's tone betrayed his lustful reaction to her wriggling about on the floor in front of him, "You've quite brought out the full-grown man in me."
Finally standing, she was out of breath from the effort and deliciously taken by the lusty look of him. She brushed at her hair, and adjusted her crown, tilted her head, subtle, her fascinating, siren-song wiggles.
"Have I?" she asked, coyly.
Suddenly, William remembered the phone.
She saw his expression change, and then she remembered it too. "Your phone call… Oh, go on detective, go see what's happening with the case," she smiled.
)
"Just updating you, sir," George's voice explained in the telephone's earpiece.
"Is the suspect still on the premises… there at the zoo?" William asked.
"Yes, err, yes. So, we still don't know where he will go, um, to listen in to the device he planted in Madame Reveron's purse, err, you know, wherever it is that his hideout is waiting." Remembering the detective's earlier conversation, George hurried to add, "But sir, as you suggested, there are two constables hiding in the bushes at the Reveron's house… well, if you think about it, it's really more of a mansion than a house, sir… It has those big turrets, like you'd expect in a castle…"
It didn't surprise either party when William's huffy sigh sounded in the phone.
There was a momentary pause, George trying to get back on track.
William guided, "And on the other case…"
"Oh yes, sir. The one we're NOT working on," George recovered, William almost able to hear the constable winking into the phone. He hoped, for his own sake, that George had managed to secure a phone out of earshot, at least out of earshot of Clegg, and Meyers, and Alderman Lamb and Thurston Howell.
"I'm sure you'd be interested to hear, Detective Murdoch, sir, that… err, um, well, Sally Pendr…" George felt the gleeful tickle of good gossip, lowering his voice to just above a whisper he told, "Err, Sally Hubble is here. And, my – oh – my, sir, you should see her. She's wearing a, um a… well, honestly sir, it looks like something my girl Nina would wear in one of her burlesque shows at the StarRoom. It is… well sir, suffice it to say, you will just have to imagine it, is all. Her costume is a pink cat, fitting to the theme of the affair here tonight…" George halted himself there with a thought. Off on another track he went. "You know sir," suddenly he was sharing a juicy secret, "Madge Merton is here. I'm sure her photographer got a picture of Sally in the scandalous costume!"
"Constable, I don't have all night," William groaned, losing his patience.
"Oh, sorry. Um, it's just that, well I'm sure you've never seen Sally Pendri… err, I mean Miss Hubble, in her altogether, sir. Well, she might as well be in this cat suit. It is really quite something," George could not resist.
George rambled on, and for once, William was grateful, for his own mind had been jarred by the constable's innocent assumption. Shame had snuck up on him, as he stood there next to his and Julia's marital bed, so many, many years after it had happened – after he HAD seen Sally Pendrick in her altogether. It had been the sneakiness of the sensation that had lingered with the event, his having had seen the voluptuous woman naked, her being a married woman. That was the event that had always been hidden behind Sally's giving him her portrait in the first place. He had been dumbfounded by the unexpected sight of the woman's shapely, curvy, body. The image still seemed to have a strange power to it, so un-allowed, the sheer forbiddenness of his seeing her like THAT, out in the broad daylight, just suddenly out of the blue, adding such guilty weight to the pleasure. He reminded himself that it wasn't like he had betrayed Julia, to feel such stirrings – for back then, Julia hadn't even yet met Darcy Garland. And Julia was starting to hint that she was unhappy here in Toronto – with him. And further, he had not yet had the opportunity – again, it had been so incredibly unexpected when it did happen, so guiltily, deliciously, forbidden, when he and the Inspector came upon Julia Ogden… au natural. Once he had seen her, though, then he had known, down into his bones, that Julia Ogden was truly the sexiest woman in all the world…
In the midst of the background rattling on of George's incessant talking in the phone, William heard the words "the Inspector," and the invoking of his superior's name seemed to jolt him back into the moment.
The constable was still chattering excitedly about Sally's costume, William gathered, hearing George say, "It's like you're seeing her in one of the Inspector's more… well, err, one of his less landscape-ish paintings, if you know what I mean, sir. Like the one he painted of my Nina…"
Wham, the image hit William so hard all over again, his remembering of his discovering of the Inspector's sketch of Julia, so breathtaking and mesmerizing the moment he saw it, IT being the one he had dropped, likely because it was smaller than all of the others in the Inspector's art portfolio. It was so remarkably gorgeous – SHE was so remarkably gorgeous. The Inspector had seen her too, that day, that day they had raced into the woods at the nudist colony to try to save George's life, only to find that Julia was already there, naked, and had, at just that second, saved George herself with a whack of a shovel. The case of the stabbed painter, the case they had closed when William was helping the inspector clean out his art studio, when he discovered the Inspector's sketch of HIS wife in the nude, was years later. It was the case George referred to just now on the telephone, the one that had gotten the Inspector painting again, painting such salacious and erotic and outrageous portraits of naked women. But, William knew, and the Inspector knew that William knew, that the Inspector had been haunted by the image of seeing HIS Julia that day long ago, so much so that he had had to draw her to free himself from it. Still, he had kept the sketch all those years…
"…her pink suit is so tight that a man need not imagine... of course you would sir, not being here to see it in person…" George went on, "I must say, though, sir, this skintight style for young women must be the latest Halloween costume fashion. Albeit that there are at least 6 black cats here tonight, I mean it is a Halloween party after all, but two of the ladies here tonight are similarly dressed as the more scandalous type of felines, like our Miss Hubble, but not in pink, not like the Pink Panther, but instead as the more traditional black cat. And truthfully, sir, not a one of them can compare to Miss Hubble, sir, or, I would certainly add, the whole lot of them are not anywhere near as attractive as your, err, as um your… wife, err, uh, I'm sure sir…"
It was getting so hot in here…
"I mean, err, err, I have seen her, um, the doctor, sir… Your wife, err… uh, that time in the woo…"
"George!" if William hadn't whispered the order for the constable to halt, it would have been yelling. There was a hesitation, the detective taking a deep breath. "I'd prefer not to think about it, George," William said more calmly.
The wave of discomfort quickly passed, for George at least, and he giggled with a thought, absolutely astounded that he had been permitted to go on so long. "Oh, and my goodness, you would not believe the two spies, sir. Alan Clegg and Mr. Meyers practically challenged each other to a duel to determine which one of them would get to be the one to, um, 'handle' Miss Hubble for the night. I suppose in the end, Mr. Clegg won because Mr. Meyers couldn't top the argument that Sally might recognize him, from back at the time when she tried to sell that potato-cooking weapon… Remember…"
The familiar annoyance was coming back to him…
"Now, our Mr. Meyers is quite a miserable loser, taken to sulking, if you ask me. And dare I say, sir, the spy has had much too much alcohol. And he's an unruly drunk, sir. Not like me. Do you remember, when you invented the slippery shoe, for our curling match… when Leslie Garland stole my girl. I must say, I'm a sweet, lovable, sort of drunk. But Meyers just wants to fight everybody…"
William's teeth were gritted so tautly he thought he might chip a tooth. He suddenly was beyond sighing. "Constable! Has there been anyone suspicious… around the diamond? Is Inspector Guillaume on top of it?" he demanded.
"Oh," George fretted into the phone, "Guillaume's been dealing with Mr. Meyers for the most part. I think he's worried that our Meyers'll scare Sally off. And, err, well sir, no one would dare get anywhere near to the diamond on display. There's a, well you know, but it is surprisingly intimidating, having monster-sized pink-colored lion, right there next to it. The lion's in just a cage there, and she can reach out from the cage with her huge paws through the bars… and those claws sir. The only person brave enough to go anywhere near that lion is the vet… Now she's quite a looker… Dr. Mole. She told me that the black lions all around the Pink Panther Diamond are actually jaguars… I guess it's all part of the Halloween theme…"
"Is there anything else," William grumbled, "that I NEED TO KNOW, constable?"
"Err, uh, no sir, I don't believe so," George admitted sheepishly.
"Very good," William felt himself settling, "Stay alert… and focused, on the robber, George."
"You can count on me, detective. How's your party going?" George suddenly became curious.
"Back to it constable. I'm hanging up now, George," William tried to harbor his urge to be rude.
"Yes sir. Have fun at yo…"
William dropped the earpiece back into its receptacle.
)
Downstairs, Julia had announced the serving of the special 'Black Cat Halloween Cake.' It was relatively quiet in the Murdoch house, the cake so delicious that people's mouths were full. A reporter from the Toronto Gazette had arrived with his photographer. Julia had invited them in, tolerating their ogling of her… clamshells, and offered them some cake as well. Expecting there would be pictures, she had asked Claire-Marie to put William Jr. back into his fishtail, building the small boy's anticipation by telling, "When your Daddy finishes his phone call, we're all going to go out by Daddy's popup monster and take a BIG, BIG picture," she shared her excitement with her little son.
Now she waited in the foyer for William. Mrs. Dewar approached, glad for the more intimate moment between the two of them. "My late husband would have so enjoyed your party, Dr. Ogden," she beamed with a seemingly eternal love for her husband, the man having passed some time ago. "He was fascinated with this holiday – loved the costumes… and he most enjoyed fishing, so you see, your undersea theme would have delighted him."
"You must miss him," Julia said, and she battled inside herself with letting, or not letting, herself wholly imagine losing William.
"I dare say, doctor," Mrs. Dewar leaned close to tell it like a secret between them, "Ours was one of those special loves. I believe you understand."
The two women's eyes held for a moment, sharing the truth of it.
Mrs. Dewar cleared her throat, poked at a sliver of her cake on her plate with her fork as the two of them stood there in the foyer. "Some of your guests noticed the pair of you missing," she divulged. There was a kindhearted chuckle, "Like newlyweds," she shook her head.
Julia wallowed in having everyone know. "Yes, isn't it wonderful," she whispered back the sweetness of it, yielding to the twinge of discomfort the awareness of their unconventionalness, their outrageousness, making her chuckle.
Cake. Thoughts milling in their heads…
Julia spoke, "It's the perfect complimentary fit, William and I match so well, like chemistry, I've always said. Rare though, that someone completely understands what I mean by it. I wager you do, Mrs. Dewar. You have a scientific mind. I remember the first time I thought it – about the chemistry I mean, so many years ago. William and I had courted, and parted." Julia lifted an eyebrow at the woman, for perhaps she was disclosing the more personal too easily.
But there was a wise aura to Mrs. Dewar, a wisdom that only comes with compassion and empathy, the kind that warrants trust.
"He had a case, and he wondered with me in the morgue about marriage proposals over telegraph wires..."
"And odd, ironic, now," Julia thought to herself, her mind twisting and forking like lightning, "that William had later come to consider doing just that himself." It hit her with such a burning ache- to know now how much it had hurt him, William deciding NOT to send the telegram with his marriage proposal, instead bringing his ring, his resolve in risking telling her of his love for her, with him, when he came to her in Buffalo. He came because she had called. Brilliant, William Murdoch, he had solved her case, he had found the murderer plaguing her Children's Hospital in Buffalo. Then, they stood together on the steps in front of the hospital, her thinking it was goodbye, him trying to get up his nerve to drop down onto his knee. She knew now, for he had since read it to her from his journal, that in all of William's life he had never felt such a pain, an eternal loneliness, as when she told him she was engaged to another.
Julia blew out the pressure, releasing the hurt of the memories.
With a deep breath, she remembered that she had been explaining the reasons that she thought their love was like chemistry. "William and I are so much the same in so many essential ways, our values, our absolute joy in discovering and sharing about the world… science… It's like 3-dimensional puzzle pieces, like enzymes and substrates, we each stick up, and stand out as odd when compared to others, in these particular places. But, when William and I are together, put us next to each other, and those pieces that stick up are in unison, so that when we are together, nothing is left out in the cold, everything is nurtured and spurred to life. And where we differ, there, too, there is this perfect matching symmetry. Consider my rebelliousness..." Julia elaborated on the theory.
Mrs. Dewar smiled knowingly and nodded. Truth be told, Dr. Ogden's boldness was probably what she most adored about Detective Murdoch's choice in a wife.
"And William's..." Julia suddenly found she was stuck, working in her mind to find a less judgmental and critical word. Failing, she gave up and said, "… stuffiness."
Her choice of the word received a soft chuckle and a loving and knowing look from Mrs. Dewar., a guaranteed fan of William's.
"He conforms so to expectations, to society's crazy, unjust sometimes… norms. And so, where I stick out, he lacks, and where he sticks out…" Julia suddenly thought of it, "…like with his devotion to his Faith, I lack, and we fill in each other's gaps so completely that not the tiniest piece of either of us has to exist in solitude…" Julia awed at the perfectness of it.
However, being a realist, when you got down to the nitty-gritty, Julia then considered, "Of course, nothing is that perfect. We fight… about… well, about his risk-taking with himself and the baby…"
Mrs. Dewar nodded.
"And jealousy is a big issue. He finds it to be unacceptable, to himself really, NOT to be true to me. He's so very loyal, and William lacks, or more, he's weak when it comes to self-reflection, and so he tends to deny that he finds other women attractive. And I, I'm ashamed to say, I take some pleasure in making him jealous, and so…"
Mrs. Dewar's brain flashed up a recent image in her mind's eye of a newspaper photograph. In it, the doctor, looking so lovely dressed in an elegant ball gown, was dancing, but not with the detective, instead with some other man… a very, very handsome man…
Both women turned – there was a thud, a sort of hopping, up above. It was William, in his fishtail, making it down the stairs. There was just enough room in the costume's design to allow William to lower one leg at a time down the 8-inches of each step. Arriving in the foyer, Julia informed him about the reporter wanting a picture. Mrs. Dewar soaked up the beauty of the two of them, watching from off on the side, as Julia dressed her husband, placing his crown on his head, fussing with his beard.
William muttered, "It still continues to bother me with its relentless escaping," bringing a delightful giggle from her chest. She handed him his kingly-sized trident fork, and he was transformed into a magnificent King Neptune.
Julia saw it in his eyes, worry. It was much more than just their guests now, who would see. She tilted to his ear, whispered to him that it would be alright. It was a Halloween costume. The world would understand.
)
The photograph would likely be wonderful, the Murdoch's in their undersea royalty costumes around their creative Halloween 'monster' at the center, all their guests tucked in close, smiling on the edges.
)
Many of the guests had thanked them and gone home. It was getting late and the party was drawing down. Conversations still bubbled in the living room though. Those that remained were having a good time.
It poured into the room, William Jr.'s wailing. The adults quickly ascertained that the children were fighting. There was a tussle just where the downstairs steps joined the foyer, apparently over William Jr.'s trident fork, and it was getting loud.
William Jr. hollered out ragefully, "Mine! Mine! Mine!" his complaints growing louder and louder until they petered out into pure crying instead.
The two-year old, no longer in his fishtail but still donning his little crown, rubbing his eyes, toddled desperately into the bright lights of the adult room, balling, "My tidon-fork. Mine…" rushing over to his closest parent – his Daddy.
William scooped him up, soothing, "I think you're tired, Little Man. It's making you grumpy." Attempting to lighten the mood, William joked, rubbing his son's belly playfully, "You're supposed to be a little fishy, not a crab…" William caught his wife's eye across the room. Wisely, he carried the crying child her direction, zigzagging in and out of guests here and there, each offering some form or another of advice.
"Bounce him," one woman said.
"He needs a gentle smack on his bottom," another suggested.
Nearing Julia he tried, the boy's crying only increasing in intensity, "You are simply tired Little Man. I see you rubbing your eyes…"
So typical for his age, William Jr. flared into his favorite word, "No! No!" he cried out through his tears, and then moved dangerously towards tantruming, squirming and squiggling, and yelling, "No! No tuck in! No bed!" over and over again. With that, William's glance to his wife became pleading.
Julia remained seated and reached her arms up. Gratefully, William handed the child down to her.
It was if the whole room exhaled, the mother and child together – SOFT – WARM, like a gentle pillow he nestled on her lap. Tenderly, Julia tucked him into her bosom, caressed his curls with her delicious fingers, soothing, comforting, her kisses on his head, close to his small ear, whispering to him, promising him love, and care… forever. "My little boy," she warmed, "You are having SO much Halloween fun, hmm?" The child's trauma eased. His breathing deepening, slowing. His red, red, face, fluttering in the gentle breeze of his mother's consoling kisses and strokes taking away the rush of the heat. "I know, Little One, I know. You worry that you'll miss something exciting. Take a breath, for me sweetie, please," Julia hushed him. "Listen, I promise, we'll have lots more parties, hmm? Even one next month for your birthday, with lots of children for you to play with. You'll have fun then too. But you are so, so tired, my Little one. Your Mommy knows…"
Pendrick came to stand next to William, his eyes, and everyone else's for that matter, focused down on mother and child. "She has a wonderful way," he tilted over and whispered. Reflection set in, Julia's soothing somehow settling everyone in the room. Pendrick spoke again, low, peaceful, he said, "I find myself wishing I could be that little boy and be loved like that."
Later, William would remember that moment and wonder at himself for not getting jealous or angry, for not remembering that James Pendrick had laid his wife back into a passionate kiss, albeit while supposedly crazed as the Lurker, but, right in that moment, right now, he did not. He felt compassion instead, and he whispered back, "My mother was like that." And somehow in that moment, everything made sense, everything was perfect.
William squatted down in front of his wife and child and quietly suggested, "A bath would ease him. He has been running around all night." He ran his fingers through the black curls at the back of his son's head feeling the dampness. "He's sweaty."
Julia teased, "A clammy fish, then," with a glint in her eye.
"Yes," he agreed with a smile.
Julia stood with the boy, no protesting to be heard. Claire-Marie was right there. She would take him upstairs, give the child a warm bath, prepare him for bed.
The father of the two older boys handed William his son's trident fork, apologizing.
"No need," William offered, "But perhaps it is best that no one has it for now," he decided. He took the coveted fork to the foyer and placed it, for now, high up in the hall closet.
)
Only a short while later, a naked toddler streaked into the living room, giggling and tottering his little bare body and his trail of watery footprints all around past couches and chairs and standing guests, drawing gasps abound. William Jr. had obviously been rejuvenated by his bath and was enjoying a hearty second wind.
Poor Claire-Marie, towel in hand, flurried around the corner, down from stairs, chasing behind him.
Abruptly caught, swooped up by Miss Cranston, William Jr. seemed to accept his fate quietly.
"Master Murdoch," Annie declared to the crowd, "Do you realize you have no clothes on?" she teased, her Halloween Mummy costume darkened by the absorbed flood.
The boy's embarrassed nanny closed in, spreading the towel wide. "I'm so sorry doctor… detective. He just took off…"
Suddenly, seeing an opportunity for a game, William Jr. began thrashing about in his captor's arms. "No, Nanny Monster! Le'go, le'go!"
Miss Cranston, a bit of a playful devil herself, made what was probably a mistake. But, without really thinking about it, she put the little child back down on the floor, releasing him.
Oh, his Daddy's voice was stern, "No more roughhousing. It's time for sleep."
Julia commented, scolding, "That's your fault, William," explaining to the group, "He always riles him up right before he's supposed to go to sleep," the complaint drawing a laugh from the onlookers.
"I confess it's true," William gave his wife his wrinkled-up-corner-of-the-mouth look.
The boy was surprisingly quickly caught in the towel, Claire-Marie apologized again.
Enid's husband announced, taking the pressure off of the nanny, "It seems the Murdoch boy is a bit of an exhibitionist," prompting the group to laugh again.
Quick, William's quip came, erupting the entire room into more rancorous laughing, "Now THAT he gets from his mother," raising a judgmental eyebrow at her, he had cockily returned the banter, earning himself an embarrassed shove from Julia.
With the child back upstairs and a few more guests heading on their way, the mood quieted, but the larger group still hovered together with the shared experience. It was Mrs. Dewar who asked it, sparking up the lively conversation once more.
"Your son," all eyes turned to the older woman dressed as Sherlock Holmes, "Did I see a large scar… on his shoulder?"
Everyone watched as William and Julia's eyes met. It was obvious that the moment reflected back to something important. The room followed along the line of sight as both parents glanced over to Dr. Isaac Tash. Isaac prepared to answer, planning in his mind for the boundaries of what he would share.
But, before Isaac could explain, before he had the pleasure of telling the amazing story, Rosie Rosevear jumped into the center of the room, her eyes aglow with delight. "Don't you all know? Didn't you read about it in the papers?" she asked, building up their anticipation, "The detective performed surgery – a Cesarean section, nicked the baby with a scalpel while he was still in the womb…"
Mr. Hume called out, suddenly remembering the detail, "He practiced on a chicken first…" earning himself a laugh.
It turned out that all the guests did remember the story of how William Jr. had come to be in the world. It was part of the mystery and magic of Toronto's Favorite Couple, after all.
Then, the woman dressed as the black cat commented, "I thought the scar might have been hereditary," her eyes perused over William's bare chest once more. She started counting, pointing at each of the marks on him, "one, (from the arrow near his heart), two (the meat-hook wound atop his clavicle), three (a bullet hole in his left shoulder), four…" (the injury to his forearm from when he fell from the fire escape).
William's eyes jumped to Enid's. She would recognize that one!
Then Miss Rosevear began telling how William had gotten each of the various scars to the group.
"My, Miss Rosevear," Julia interrupted, stepping close to William, tucking her arm around him, instinctively knowing her husband would be uncomfortable with such attention, "You are quite abreast on William's history, it seems." Gratefully, her plan worked.
Suddenly embarrassed, not an uncommon experience for Ruby Rosevear to get caught going out of bounds, she replied, "Oh, I know just about everything Murdochian, doctor."
"Murdochian?" Julia asked, with a giggle, "Is that a word?"
"Oh," Ruby blushed slightly, "Well, it is at the Murdoch Appreciation Society."
"I see," Julia said, giving William a raised-eyebrow look.
He wrinkled his mouth at her, and she giggled.
She returned her attention to the group. "William has seen many battles, it is true." Proudly, Julia added, "I guess it comes with being a hero."
"Here! Here!" Mrs. Dewar raised her glass, calling for a toast.
"To Detective Murdoch," Mr. Hume called out, raising his glass as well.
"And his incredible wife, Dr. Ogden," James Pendrick added.
"To the Murdoch's," the group clinked their glasses in appreciation.
)
It seemed the end of the Murdoch Halloween Party had come, only James Pendrick remained. William's mind wondered after his case. "Probably the Howell's Howell-oween Bash was still going strong," he reassured himself. "The Reveron's probably haven't even left the zoo for home yet…"
The popup monster sounded outside…
Followed by a few male gasps and then some laughter.
William and Julia recognized the Inspector's voice immediately…
"Don't be such a scaredy-cat, Meyers! It's just Murdoch… You know the man. Always inventing things…"
Then George, footsteps on the front porch, closer to the front door now, "No need to punch it, sir. It's not real…"
They rushed to the front door just in time to see Terrence Meyers dive through the air, wildly tackling poor Murdoch's popup monster, embroiled in hearty battle with the beast. Wood cracked and crashed under the man's weight and splintered and creaked with each of the international spy's brawny blows.
"Well, at least we got to enjoy it before he destroyed it," Julia made an effort to appease her husband.
Once the three men were up on the porch and Meyers had quieted, it took everything George had to let the Inspector take the show.
"Murdoch! Good doctor," the Inspector began to tell, "The robber has been caught red-handed, as that annoying reporter, Paddy Doyle, came to call it…
George interrupted, "Not even giving you the credit for it that you deserve, detective. You were the one who thought to put the red dye pack in with the money! Not that reporter character! Why he even ended up being the Kissing Bandit, sirs!"
It was Julia this time, who got lost in her thoughts being stirred up by Constable Crabtree's meandering comments. She remembered William coming to borrow the dye from her over in the morgue. She had been modeling her wedding veil for her sister, Ruby. The wedding dress was splayed out all over the morgue slab. Ironically fitting, she realized, in a way, now. William had seen her enjoying it. He had looked so… hurt. And she remembered the deep, deep ache, for her heart, too, had been so very, very broken…
They got the three men inside, Meyers somewhat bloodied. The disheveled and battle-weary look was fitting with Meyers' Halloween costume, a pirate. It had become apparent to all involved that all three of the men had had a bit too much to drink, but Terrence Meyers was the most far gone of the bunch.
"A pirate?" Julia asked the spy, hurrying to get something to place under his newly lit cigar.
"I'm pleased you should ask…" Meyers slurred, his eyes swirling around before mostly settling on Julia, "You are truly lovely, doctor. Murdoch doesn't appr… re – re…" he swallowed, or was it a burp, "abriate you enough." Meyers searched the room for Murdoch, figuring his forwardness with the man's wife might spur on a fight. His fists itched with the chance to punch that annoying, smug, Murdoch in the nose.
"William's gone to make you gentlemen some coffee," Julia shared.
"You were saying… a pirate?" she reminded, hoping to deter his urge to fight.
Meyers put his smelly cigar down in the dish, Julia rushing to straighten it to avoid starting a fire, and then he stared down confoundedly at his own body. He would explain, "I… most beautiful lady," and now it was Meyers who slobbered and drooled over the delicacy of the sight of Julia's magnificent breasts squashed so delectably tightly into those tiny, tiny, clamshells.
"Mr. Meyers, please," Julia complained. Thinking it would get the irritating man's attention off of her, she said, "Mr. Pendrick is a pirate too."
Pendrick jumped in to help, "The Tiger of Mompracem…"
It seemed then that all hell broke loose, Murdoch, and George and the Inspector bolting in from the kitchen, alerted by the ruckus.
Pendrick and Meyers twisted and writhed together wrestling and swinging punches and grunting with each effort on the floor.
Meyers, his neck grabbed and crunched by Pendrick's arm, bellowed, "I am the one! The only one who can be the Tiger of Mompracem! It is I, I who landed from that insidious rocket of yours in Borneo! I, who earned the right! It is I, who is Ranying - Supreme God, fallen from above. King of Borneo…"
Julia pleaded, "It seems they are dressed in the same costumes!"
"Oi! Break it up now!" the Inspector ordered, reaching in and grabbing a flailing limb. William and George helped, and the two men soon sat in chairs on opposite sides of the room. Coffee was abundant.
Julia doctored one of James Pendrick's wounds.
Finally, Murdoch was being caught up on the investigations, all the nonsense settled down. The robber had been apprehended breaking into the Reveron's home directly before the couple had arrived. He was caught red-handed, and he confessed. Remarkably, and quite good for the reputation and record of Stationhouse #4, he had even revealed where the jewels he had stolen on the previous two heists were hidden! He was in the cells.
Sally had gotten away. Meyers was furious and blaming Alan Clegg for losing her, temporarily flared up into a torrent upon the matter being brought up once more. It seems Sally had had a plan. She must have escaped after she had made a big show of touching the diamond, explaining her fingermarks on it…
The Inspector proudly handed off the fake to Murdoch to inspect, safely, it seemed, wrapped in a handkerchief in his pocket. Guillaume had been willing to let him take it to Murdoch, having already ascertained that Murdoch had been right all along about the jewel on display at the Riverdale Zoo being a fake.
Sally had hired a woman to wear a pink cat costume exactly the same as hers, setting up the unknowing patsy as a decoy, paying her to dance with a particular man, it turned out also paid by Sally Hubble, for the rest of the night. Her instructions had been to remain on the dance floor, moving constantly. She had been instructed specifically NOT to dance with Mr. Clegg or Mr. Meyers. It had worked well. Sally Hubble easily had a few hours head start.
William held up the sparkly, pink-hued gem to the light. "Julia," he asked her, not taking his eyes off the jewel, "May I have your ring?"
"Of course!" she awed more than just agreed, "If it is a fake, then my diamonds will scratch it!" she exclaimed, bouncing up on her toes and smiling broadly to the other men.
William's frown showed he was sincere in his hoping that he had been wrong. "Yes, it is a fake," he concluded.
Surprising them all, a broken, hobbliy-sort of cackling laughter sounded feebly from the front porch.
"Your monster's laugh, William!" Julia declared.
Murdoch scowled at Meyers. "I guess he broke that too," he said, standing and heading to the door.
Miss Cherry marched in with her usual intrusive, presumptuous saunter, explaining that she was not at all startled by the monster, having already known about it. But as a journalist, she was quite curious about what had happened to damage it so.
"George," William said, disappointment in his tone, "It seems Miss Cherry followed you here."
Everyone except the two wounded pirates were aware of Miss Cherry's tendency to abuse her relationship with George to get the inside scoop. Likely to deflect attention from her plans, the reporter offered an inside scoop of her own, although it was not good news.
Pulling off her gloves Louise Cherry said to the group, "I spoke with the Gazette reporter that was here earlier. He shared his idea for a headline with me." She paused for dramatic effect. Then spread her hands out presenting the words, "Murdoch's Frolic while Body-Dumper Killer Continues to Escape Justice."
Barely having a second to fret about the effect such a story would have on them, the wounded cackling played once more from outside.
Irresistible, William glared at Meyers again.
There was a flicker of regret across the spy's face.
This time William's odd alarm had been set off by the French Inspector, Marcel Guillaume.
"What 'as 'appened to your frightening monster, Monsieur Murdoch?" he asked stepping in. Being a playful and loving man by nature, Marcel could not resist laughing at the detective's frown…
"Mr. Meyers…"
"Oh," Marcel immediately interrupted, for after this evening at the zoo, he was himself extremely experienced with dealing with the drunken Canadian government man, "Say no more." Consolingly, he patted the detective on the back as they joined the others in the living room.
The Frenchman explained that he was there to ask for any leads or clues Murdoch could offer. Still, he found himself enchanted by the good-looking bodies of both William Murdoch and his wife, the good doctor. "Oh, Angelique will be so upset she missed your sexy costumes!" he declared. "I will have to tell her. She will pout," he kissed Julia's hand. "You look Magnifique, Julia… Magnifique!" Marcel dashed a tour with his eyes over William's chest, then returned his gaze to the reserved man's wife and whispered their shared secret in her ear, "And your 'usband, Julia… Magnifique, tres, tres Magifique… when 'e removes a few of his, 'ow you say, buttons."
Julia giggled, collapsing softly into the man, catching sight of a quick chastising scowl from William.
Murdoch was able to give Guillaume much. Not only did he know which hotel Catfrey was to stay in in Chicago, but he also knew the name the thief would likely use on the register – Peter Burke, and that Catfrey was there to add more "Cats" to his collection. There was a showing of a Japanese Kano artist from the sixteenth century, a Hasegawa Tohaku. He had painted exquisite Japanese screens entirely in ink on a delicate background of powdered gold. One such piece was the double screened, "Tigers and Bamboo," on display next month in Chicago.
As all of this would be taking place in the USA, Guillaume would be working with Alan Clegg now. Murdoch said goodbye with one final piece of advice, "Get in touch with Peter Burke, he works with the American government in Washington. He's the only man to ever catch Catfrey. They are cat-and-mouse rivals. He's your best chance."
)
Finally alone, the house locked up for the night, William thought to himself that they would be too tired for lovemaking. The moment he closed the bedroom door, however, he suspected he had been mistaken. Julia appeared to be… amorous. She had intentionally remained in her salacious costume rather than change into her nightgown, and there were candles lit, and she just absolutely took his breath away with her look, and the way she moved, and that lustful scratchy lowness in her voice.
"Well William, was it so bad having your wife wear these scandalous, tiny, clamshells all night?" she asked, her eyes watching his gorgeous brown eyes as they were finally granted permission to soak in the luscious look of her creamy cleavage.
Such a spark when he caught her eye, then a playful twinkle in his.
"I'm just glad they stayed on better than my beard did," he chuckled, giving her a winsome bow.
"Yes," she answered him, stepping closer.
Julia slipped close enough to him that her shells rubbed up under his pectoral muscles and she felt her insides wholly ignite and begin to churn. "It seems we'll make the headlines again, Mr. Murdoch," she warned her more modest husband, just before her lips moved that final millimeter, and she kissed him. Softly, she let the kiss go, changed the angle, "There will be photographs…" another kiss, her hands slipping and sliding and touring, "Me, in merely my clamshells…" Mmm, this kiss was deep, the hunger growing, "You, nothing to button-up," she giggled. Breathless now, she broke off the more desperate kiss, "Scandalous again, I'm afraid."
William had lost his ability to speak three kisses ago. He just stood, fighting the pull of the gravity, fighting the fall, swirled so deliciously by the undertow.
My God, he looked so gorgeous like this, she thought, such a strength, a primitiveness burning and flooding inside of him, just underneath, while right there at the surface, the fleeting, steamy, other truth of William Murdoch floated out in the open, undeniable, such a beautiful vulnerability. She couldn't possibly love this man more… not possibly.
That Halloween night, when the black cats crossed paths with the fishes, William and Julia's undersea world rumbled and roared, for there was a colossal lovestorm, whipped up into a blustery and turbulent frenzy, the elements mixed and curled and entangled with each other, pent-up forces charged and hungry, suddenly released, erupting in a virulent sea of blankets, powered and thrust upon by thunderous and pounding waves, right there in the Murdoch marital bed, for it was true, there was a remarkable and astounding chemistry between these two, and sometimes, often even, it resulted in an implosion of the highest magnitude. A profound and mysterious perfection was reached, right there, right then, melding two, becoming one, both now and forever, primordial and timeless, pure, solid and ephemeral, these two loved each other, heart, body and soul.
*Yet, in the darkness, unbeknownst to the lovers, the house… it still listened.
)) ((
And as for the dilemma, the agonous and tumultuous decision between the Lady, or the Tiger, it seems our heroes had not yet reached that fork. But… for Sally Hubble and for Neil Catfrey, it lingered ominously close. Neil had the Panther, but he did not have the Lady. And Sally? Well, she was who she was, and right now she had neither the love of her life, this handsome Cat-man who scared her so, for she had never felt such a pull, nor did she possess the precious pink treasure. But she had her freedom, and she told herself, that with that, she could accomplish anything.
