The Lady, or the Tiger?

Chapter 22: Two Shakes of a Lamb's Tale

He had excused himself from the small huddle of men sipping their brandy and smoking their cigars, Dr. Isaac Tash's associates, off to the side of the big marble ballroom. Truth be told, William was grateful to Julia's friend, Julia's doctor, the man who had teamed up with her to convince him to risk having this second child rather than take the route he had preferred and have her have an abortion instead, for it had been Isaac who had stepped forward tonight, right away, after he and Julia were announced to this function – unfashionably late, to help him to feel more comfortable at one of Julia's bigger charity affairs of the year. "Yes," he thought in his head, to the world, as he made his way through the extravagant gala hall full of posh tuxedos and colorful ballgowns, "I do see the irony. ME, a devoted Catholic man, and a police detective, trying to insist that JULIA have an abortion, after I broke off our relationship BECAUSE she had had one in the past, believing it to be unacceptable for a woman I loved, a woman I would marry, to have committed such a sin and broken the law. And now, now I find I am grateful to the man I nearly jailed years ago for performing that same immoral and illegal act, not only for helping to bring my children into the world, but for being willing to save Julia's life, if I had asked him to, by performing an abortion on her, and even further, it is HE who comes forward as my FRIEND, helping me, a lowly Catholic police detective, fit in at a an overly-lavish party for the rich and powerful of Toronto."

William spied Julia over on the other side of the dancefloor, engaged in polite discussion with two couples. A waiter approached, Julia put her empty glass down on his tray, then excused herself from the group. He imagined her saying she was going to find her husband. That was what he had said to the men as he had parted just now, that he was going to look for his wife. He saw her stop, standing alone. He waited for her eyes to find him among all the others. But instead, she became absorbed in watching the couples on the dancefloor, and he saw her face change, and he couldn't help himself, he fell in love with her all over again. She was so incredibly beautiful. She was his wife, that beautiful, smart, fiery woman across the room, HIS.

Her eyes followed a pair who were gliding and turning all around the dancefloor. The couple reminded her, a bit anyway, of herself and William that first time, when they were dancing together at the Dinosaur Ball. Perhaps it was the woman's blue dress, or their harmonious movements, faster, more vivid somehow, than the rest. And there was bright conversation between them. "Not quite as mesmerized with each other as we had been," she considered, "but still – keenly attuned to each other." She wondered if it had been as easy to tell that she and William had been in love…

"Do you want to dance?" William's voice came from behind her, pulling her out of her thoughts. He stepped closer, and she turned her face just a little to the right, leaning backwards to him.

"Perhaps," she answered.

Her husband stepped closer, shifting the tilt, the gravity, in the room. Magnetic, the attraction between these two, invisible, forceful, always racing the breath, stealing the oxygen, dizzying the brain. Strange, how she could be in two places at once, falling, as she felt him, tingling and electric, behind her, heard him, his shadow, his ghost at her periphery, at her edges, she smelled him, she sensed him tipping his face closer to her hair and taking the scent of her in, and at the same time, wobbling, with the disbelief that William Murdoch would actually be so bold in public. A flash in her mind played, of him coming up behind her while she stood cooking at the stove on Saturday mornings, and it brought a smile to her face. She always, absolutely, joyed when he did that… did this. She was torn between gasping and smiling when she felt him take a curl of her hair in in his fingers. The intimacy, the physical closeness, the twinge of sexuality, from him, from William Henry Murdoch, while they were in public – and at such a stuffy occasion, so unexpected that it genuinely caught her off-guard.

His voice in her ear…

"My God, butterflies too…!" she marveled at her reaction to this man…

"You seem quite taken with the dancers," he wondered.

Julia succumbed to her desire to touch him, reaching her fingers up to slide them tenderly across his face, his manly jaw, up and over his ear, up into his black, black hair. The gesture reminded him of when the two of them had 'experimented' with smoking opium, and she had become enthralled with a tapestry of a dragon, and he had come up behind her to be stroked in just the same, delicious, way, while she marveled at the artwork. She had noticed the oddity of its five claws – matching them to the five claws etched on the dragon on the killer's opium pipe, once again amazing him by finding the essential clue needed to solve the case.

Julia confided, "I was remembering…"

"Mm," his grumbling in her ear, his breath on her…

It took her a moment, trying not to drop, as his hand snuck in around her waist. She continued, "Us together, the first time we danced…"

And so quickly, William felt the tiny jolt of panic as he remembered losing his balance, that first time the dance instructor surprised him, surprised them, by partnering them together, and he tripped so clumsily, he had been so nervous, and he stopped his fall by grabbing hold of Julia's magnificent derriere – so embarrassed he could die…

"… at the Dinosaur Ball," she had gone on, meaning a different 'first time,' "I had been so excited, William, giddy even, when you got up the nerve to ask me to go. And the way we were together, thrilling with it all, you and I, sailing, and soaring and floating as we danced. Well worth the lessons…"

Behind her, fighting the carnally insatiable urge to plant his face into her creamy, delectable neck and get her supple flesh in his mouth… William's brain flung up a memory. Julia had defended herself against that rabid serial killer – the fiend pretending to be Scotland Yard's Detective Scanlon, really Harlan Orgill, very likely London's terrifying Jack-the-Ripper. She had fought the monster off all by herself, brilliant and brave – then surprising him by appearing for their dance lesson that night, flooring him with her strength, and with her need – for HIM, to have HIM hold her in his arms, and rock and sway and soothe her after the awful ordeal…

William nibbled hat her ear, sending a chill through her whole body, just before he whispered her name…

"Julia…"

And she was astounded, truly astounded, that HE, would behave this way – HERE, that he was able to relax like this. She interrupted him, asked him, "William Murdoch, have you forgotten where we are…?" Expecting that her merely asking the question would repel him, but William did not pull back, he did not tense up, or suddenly worry. He stayed, he leaned in closer, his body, his delightful, delightful body, pressing firmly up against hers.

"Julia," he ignored her question, "Remember the first time you showed up to dance. I thoroughly did not expect to see you there…"

And Julia's mind raced to the time, seeing him waiting across the ballroom, gorgeous, the man was outstandingly gorgeous, anxiously tugging at his tuxedo as she approached him, in her red velvet dress – the one she'd put on just for him. The most important night, the night she would tell him that she had left Darcy, that she loved HIM… And Julia felt she was holding her breath as she remembered the magically romantic moment, now, in this ballroom, here, HIM the one defying convention and snuggling behind her, her mind replayed the night that SHE took the leap, chose her love and happiness over being acceptable in the eyes of society, the whole world shifting under her feet, because William told her, that fairytale night, that he loved her still, that he had never stopped loving her, that he would love her forever, that she was the one for him, and he kissed her and the fireworks flared and popped and blazed in the sky… But, she heard him go on with his memory, here and now, and she realized he meant much longer ago than that… William Murdoch's brain 'exacting,' he meant the very 'first time,' when she had showed up late for their dance lesson together, after Scanlon had almost killed her, because she wanted to be in his arms, she remembered it so viscerally – that the only place, in the whole wide world, where she wanted to be, was in his arms… And she listened to him tell…

"I expressed my surprise to see you there, after what you had been through, and you told me that that night, more than any night, you would very much like to be held, and I did, I held you in my arms, close and warm, so I drowned in your scent, and you melted into me, and we danced, but it was different, so different because we danced WITH each other, like a life-dance together, Julia, and I knew right then that our life-dance had begun, and… I thanked God for you. It was the first time, I think, that I thanked God for you," William whispered his secrets to her and then he tucked in deeper, and nibbled at her neck, kissed at the outer edges of her ear, before his warm, private breath snuck in to her to ask, "Do you want to go?"

So suggestive, so unexpected, the way he said it, the heat of his breath rumbling down her bare neck, rolling down the front of her shoulder, smuggling between her breasts, so that it ignited her center, her deepest, deepest insides, with throbbing, untamed wanting for him. She swallowed down the steamy rush of it. "William," her voice raspy and winded, "We barely just got here. The baby will still be up…?"

"A hotel room, then," he said, cocky, so scrumptiously evocative that it was bewildering to her…

And, impossible, it was impossible to erupt this much with lusty want, her breath caught with a gasp, and she felt him lean heavier into her back, and his lips smiled against her skin. Dangerously, she was tempted. She would fight the falling, tease him. "Some reporter probably just snapped a photo of us like this," she giggled. And then her brain remembered, "Oh, that would explain it…!" the light went off inside her head, "Isaac took William off somewhere, right after we arrived, and Isaac Tash does like his cognac…"

She asked him, "William…" and he mumbled his 'hmm' in her ear, "Did you have a drink… with Isaac?"

"Mm. Smokey dark brandy, they called it. Made me all warm inside?" his speech slower than usual, deeper in tone than usual…

And, with a flood of conflicting emotions, Julia realized that William Murdoch was a bit tipsy.

"Yes," she responded, "Yes, it does that," she peppered the air with a loving chuckle. Her mind rushed back to the night, that wonderful night, their first kiss, their almost on the picnic blanket in the park. "Absinthe," her brain declared the word, remembering further, William being deliciously disappointed – "Not one green fairy." And she wondered, for a moment, with a sense of irony, and an odd lack of guilt, if she might be the only woman in the world who WANTED her husband to drink more alcohol? She considered again, the hotel room…

But then she spotted the mayor looking at them. "And, my God, that's Alderman Lamb gossiping in his ear! The way the mayor glanced over here. They're talking about us!" Julia's brain blared the alert.

He felt her pull away, stiffen.

"William…!" her eyes stared, focusing, across the room, "Alderman Lamb is here… With the mayor!" And instantly her brain worried, for the Inspector had warned William to back off! "And William's… Oh my God, William's been drinking!"

He had found the two men across the other side of the dancefloor, already taken her by the hand. She leaned back against his pull. "William! Wait," she whispered, stopping him.

"William. William," her magnificent blue eyes fired into his, as she clutched ahold of his upper arms, the man suddenly striking her as so handsome, and so innocent, and her soul wanting to touch him so much she felt an ache, she swallowed with the relief that she had stopped him, at least paused him. "William. We have to be smart about this…" she appealed to his reason, "Right?"

He lifted an eyebrow at her.

Julia leaned closer, lowered her voice, "Lamb knows we suspect something. That we've been trying to get a warrant to search the zoo…"

He nodded.

Julia exhaled, big, pressured, as she waited that final second for her panic to quell.

"But we need more Julia," William's eyes twinkled, for he suspected that this was their chance, their chance to get that one needed clue. Impatience won out, and he pulled her forward again.

The greetings were polite.

However then, Julia's nerves getting the best of her, she awkwardly made a joke about Lamb's name. "So, Alderman Lamb, have you ever considered that you were destined by fate to be the founder of a zoo?" she asked the stately man.

William leaned over to warn the two men, "My wife enjoys a bad pun. Consider yourselves forewarned."

Lamb barely managed to contain his scowl. A somewhat nasty, quick pinch of his lips into a smile, he replied to the woman, "And why would I, doctor… Dr. Ogden? Why would fate pick me as a man who should own a zoo?"

Julia rushed her punch line, "It's your name – 'Lamb,' like an animal, a 'lamb'," she stressed the word, "like a little animal that you might have over at your zoo right now, at this very moment."

"Ah, yes," Lamb replied, unimpressed.

William gloated, "See, I told you…"

A sharp inhale from the mayor, he had had an idea of his own, it turning-out that he wanted to play Dr. Ogden's name-pun game too! He leaned closer to the detective's wife, everything about his body language telling he intended to up the ante. "I can do you one better, Mrs. Murdoch…"

"Oh?" Julia answered, noting to herself that he had used her husband's name rather than her own, and her brain dashed to think of what his pun could be...?

"It's your husband's name – Murdoch," the mayor stood up taller. He held back his own chuckle, "You could most certainly say that your husband has a great deal of expertise when it comes to murder, could you not…"

The mayor waited for her to respond.

"Yes," she gave. Her mind raced…

William's mind too, though it was foggier inside his head then usual…

Even the mind of the snotty Alderman…

Racing to make a connection, she thought, "MURDer' and 'MURD'och…"

"And doctors, like yourself, are experts in their field of study, are they not?" he paused, giving the admittedly, uncommonly well-educated woman, a compliment.

Julia nodded and smiled.

"That they are," William jumped in, gleaming.

Now the mayor chuckled, "So, your husband is like a doctor of murder, then. A MUR – 'Doc,' as it were," he delivered his line, then heartily slapped Murdoch on the back.

"Oh, that's a good one sir," William gave.

For a moment, the four of them stood, laughing together.

Then William asked, "So Alderman, do you have any 'lambs' at the zoo?"

And then the pleasant atmosphere quickly dwindled, as the mayor said, "Actually detective, the Alderman here has been telling me that you have been quite a pest about his zoo."

"A 'PEST?" William questioned, feeling the steam instantly rising up inside of him.

Julia saw it, his efforts, the deep breath, his jaw tightening, William's fists even began to curl down at his sides.

"William!" inside her head the yell came, outside only a tiny gasp, too late.

"Does your son have access to the zoo, Alderman," William asked, his eyes glaring into the other man's, daring him to blink.

William so homed in on his opponent that he did not notice Julia's eyes bug wide at his boldness, her brain flashing her the warning, the reminder, the explanation for his lack of self-control, that William was, as unlikely as such a thing was, under the influence of alcohol.

The Alderman held fast to the detective's eyes. "I'll have your badge Murdoch," he gritted his teeth, his face reddening with fury as he curbed the urge to yell. "How dare you!? You have always been out to get Malcolm hung," Alderman Lamb looked over to the mayor…

The mayor took the man's arm in his grasp, "Daniel," he leaned closer, tried to whisper but his heart was pounding too fast, as his eyes glanced about to see if they had drawn attention to themselves yet – and the answer came with a zing, they had. "Take it easy," he tried to calm the situation.

Lamb shook free and leaned closer to Murdoch's face. "You weren't satisfied he didn't hang, back when you… you… You're trying to find something to pin on him, Murdoch? I know you went to my zoo, confiscated some tranquilizer thingy Elizabeth needs for the animals. You're trying to get a warrant. You need to knock it off. All he ever did was help… my boy. A good and honorable man, my Malcolm. Did what was right, sought justice for Harriet King. Then suffered the consequences like a man, he did…"

Again, the alderman's eyes glanced to the mayor. "He helps at the zoo, Emerson. Designed, practically built that winter-house himself. The man helps - helps! He even went and got hurt, broken ribs, broken nose, by some crazed wild animal, got himself sent to the infirmary!" Catching Murdoch's pretty wife's eyes briefly, Alderman Lamb looked back to Murdoch, "And all you are interested in doing, detective, is besmirching him, villainizing a good man."

"Winter-house…?" William finally got word in. "The zoo has a winter-house, where it's warm, even in winter?" He shot an excited look to Julia.

"Flies!" he whispered.

And right then it hit her, with a terrified jolt! William wouldn't want to show his cards here, but he was not quite himself, and it was up to her to stop him, to cover up their discovery, Alderman Lamb just unknowingly dropping that last, essential, final, needed clue…!

William turned back to Lamb. Leaned into the man and began to speak, "That's the final thing I needed, for the wa…"

Suddenly, out of the blue, it truly could not have been more unexpected, Julia flung her arms around William's neck and she planted a passionate kiss on him. She kissed him long, and she made sure the kiss was enormous, and scandalous, and very, very, sexily, passionate – utterly shocking everyone and reveling in the outrageousness.

The mayor, the alderman, they both gasped…

She kept kissing him until she felt William recover, at least a little bit, from his shock, and then she released his lips, relying on his being too stunned to speak, and yet she heard his dazed voice, dry, scratchy, weak…

"Julia?" he asked her, "What on Ear...?"

She considered kissing him again, but instead found his ear close to her lips. "Trust me," her whisper was so low that he was unsure whether or not she had actually said it, or if he had simply imagined it.

Abruptly she turned to the two men. She swallowed. "Flies, um gentlemen." She smacked her lips together tight. "It seems we must do exactly that," she giggled, and there was a flirtatiousness to it that spoke volumes, "It seems William and I must fly, I'm afraid." She took William's hand. "Sorry," she said, and with a tug, she pulled William towards the exit...

"Julia, what on Earth!?" the whirlwinded detective could be heard asking of his bold and brazen wife as she led him through the parting and gawking and already-gossiping crowd.

"Cheeky, that woman," the mayor stared after them, all he could think to say. "But that Murdoch sure is a lucky man," he thought, as the couple disappeared from view.

)

Outside, their coats on, looking for a cab, for it was too early for anyone to be leaving the bigwig party, and thus there were none waiting, they celebrated the breakthrough. They had the piece of evidence they needed to get the warrant now, William was sure of it, the adventure seemingly all but sobering him up. "It's the piece of the puzzle we needed!" he declared, his big brown eyes sparkling enticingly at her. It would be impossible to sleep, not when they, and particularly William, were this excited. They walked further away from the entrance, William making plans. They would call the Inspector at home, despite it being this late. The Inspector would go to the judge first thing in the morning. He would get the warrant. William would be able to search the zoo tomorrow. William insisted it would be both of them, together, who went on the search, because they made such a good team.

They stood there, the steam of their rushed breaths puffing into the night air. And they agreed simultaneously, that the best thing to do was to go and get a hotel room together after all. Julia Ogden could not resist the chance to tease him, her elbow tucked into his as they headed for the closest hotel, somehow the coincidence spicing up their mood even more, for it was the Queen's Hotel where they were headed together, after this latest scandal, so much a part of their history, their remarkable story, and she squeezed him closer to her, saying, "Unfortunate, I guess, detective, you're not having a chance this time," she paused, alerting him to her playfulness, "This time, I suppose, you didn't bring your dominoes."

"Oh… true," he answered, keeping his smile at bay, "But I'm sure we'll think of something."

"I suppose we will," she gave, "I suppose we will."

And, most assuredly, they did. ( ;

) (

Eloise had come in that morning, two newspapers for the detective in her bag. The evidence that her employers had had a big affair to go to last night right before her eyes, the doctor's fancy purse left down on the foyer table, she smiled, a bit sly, her look to herself. It had not been on the first page, but newsworthy nonetheless – the couple kissing each other in public again. Eloise shook her head, unsure who she was questioning, the detective and the doctor for their outlandish behavior, the press for making such a big deal out of it, or herself for being so secretly taken with their storybook romance. She tried to dampen her own bounce – the press had twisted the love-story into a dark commentary, in the end, anyway. It would annoy the detective, she already knew.

)

The Murdoch's seemed happy enough, eating their yummy breakfast around their kitchen table. The youngest member of the family touted by all as a star, for he was nappy-less, and he was eating at the table sitting in a "bigboy" seat. Eloise set down a cup of coffee for the doctor and a cup of tea for the detective.

"Perhaps coffee would be better than the tea this morning, for you anyway, after last night, hmm William?" Julia suggested.

He lowered his newspaper, and then, over it, raised an eyebrow to scold her, making her giggle.

"Do you know Eloise…?" the tone of Julia's voice warned she would tease…

William feigned disinterest, went back to his reading…

"One of the first lies William ever told me was that he liked coffee," she said, her eyes on William as she brought her cup up to her lips to take a sip.

"An odd thing to lie about," Eloise said, buzzing about, busy at the stove behind them.

William dropped the paper down again and huffed. "I did not lie about liking coffee," he insisted. "I lied about having previously tasted coffee," and then he thoroughly charmed her with his winsome wrinkling of a corner of his mouth admitting to the delightful deception. He would give even more, saying, "It was necessary… I wanted you to continue what you had started, inviting me to 'try some of that, dreadfully-bitter, Turkish brew' – WITH YOU," he said.

"I had started," she teased.

"Yes, you," he held.

Now it was Julia who huffed. "William Murdoch, your memory can be quite irritating at times," she pouted.

Smugly, giving her just the littlest cocky smile in the corner of her eye, he went back to perusing the paper.

Eloise waited for him to find it in the background, attuned to the detective having turned the page…

William's sigh was noteworthy, drawing both Julia's attention and that of their young son. "You were right – they did take a picture," he said, his eyes glancing into his wife's and then darting back to the headline.

Julia imagined it inside her head…

"The kiss?!" she declared.

"Mm," he answered. William folded the paper to bring the story with its accompanying headline and photograph into the fold and passed it over to her to better see for herself.

Julia's eyes gasped at the photo – as usual struck by how romantic and lovely and wonderful it was. She knew, by his reaction, by fate, that the headline would be derogatory, and she frowned even before she read it, hearing it for the first time herself as she read it aloud, "Murdoch's Kissing Away: Body-Dumper Laughs from Bushes."

She passed him back the paper…

And Eloise served the plates…

"I'm sorry, William," she said, suddenly realizing that she was starving. "It seemed like a good idea at the time," she offered, giving him an apologetic wrinkle, and then scooping up a hearty forkful of eggs.

William placed the paper over to the side. He paused looking down at the meal. His stomach hinting it was not ready for food with a wafting up of nausea, William sighed, and then reached up and rubbed his brow, and then said, "It was a good idea, Julia." And then the detective looked into the doctor's eyes, and they got stuck – like they did sometimes, appreciating each other.

"Good," she said, breaking the quick spell.

He wrinkled a corner of his mouth at her, and then pushed himself to eat, starting with the toast, "the toast seems like it'll work," he advised himself.

"Good," he agreed.

) (

By the time the Inspector brought the warrant back to the stationhouse and the three of them, Brackenreid, Murdoch, and Dr. Ogden, took a police carriage to the Riverdale Zoo, it was already late in the afternoon. The place looked like a ghost town, no one in sight except for the gatekeeper, who had recognized them from their first visit, and who had called the Alderman to check on the warrant being legitimate. He had let them in, making clear as he did so that he had been instructed to offer them no assistance.

Now that there was no one to be found, William wondered to the others, "Do you think Alderman Lamb alerted them? They've already covered up the evidence, made a run for it?"

"It is quite a long trip to get here," Julia said in response.

"Likely," Brackenreid thought to himself.

But, then they heard some hammering off in the distance. People, workers, were around after all. They continued on, soon spotting some men cleaning the animal enclosures. The Inspector stopped them at the monkey cage, to say hello to his 'Athena lookalike.' There, they laid out their plan. First and foremost, they needed to inspect this "winter-house." Once there, they needed to determine if flies were actually present, explaining the maggots Dr. Ogden had found on the Body-Dumper's second, and most recent, body, despite it being the middle of winter when the man had been killed – the victim, they figured, was Elizabeth Mole's husband, Nicholas Mole. And they also needed to look for any signs indicating a specific location had been used to chop-up this second body – indications like an over-abundance of blood on the ground, and like an axe. If they found any blood, Dr. Ogden would take samples to determine if it was human.

After asking the men cleaning the cages where the winter-house was, they found it. It was far-off from the rest of the animal enclosures, closest to Dr. Mole's offices and surgery, but even a good distance from there. The building, now they knew, designed by retired detective and current Don Jail inmate, Malcolm Lamb, was impressively huge, with enormously tall ceilings – Julia figuring it was for the giraffes. Overall, the whole construction stood out as being imposingly massive.

When they arrived, the humungous doors were closed. William spotted a winch off to the side that opened the doors. The very moment the first, narrow, crack of the door gave way, an overpowering stench slammed out, nearly knocking the Inspector and the doctor over. They both rushed to cover their faces, Julia exclaiming, "My Lord, that's unbelievable!"

William turned the winch further, opened the space wide enough for them to fit through, and then joined them. "If I wanted to hide a decaying body someplace where no one would smell it…"

"This would be the place," Julia finished his sentence. Then she nudged him, "Almost as bad as whatever had died in your walls, detective," she laughed.

"Almost," he gave.

The lighting was dim inside. The big doors opened into a central passageway, long, long rows of animal cages off to each side. The cages were sturdy – cement walls on all sides, cement floors. Julia reminded them about the divot in the floor of the other cage they had seen on their first visit here, where a hippopotamus had laid down in the drying cement. William noted that the cages even had bars up on the ceilings, better ensuring that there would be no escapes, he reasoned. They passed elephants, then some camels. A lion roared in the distance.

Finally, a worker appeared. He greeted them, introduced himself only as "Brian," and they explained that they were from the Constabulary, and that they had a warrant to search the property. The worker suggested he accompany them, arguing that the zoo could be a dangerous place. Much as others had said before, Brian had lots of stories of people being severely injured here.

Julia instinctively covered her growing baby, in her mind soothing her little one – their Mary, her own gesture reminding her that there were animal babies here too. "Brian," she asked, "I heard there was a baby hippo born here, about a month or so ago?" She hadn't said, but she had ulterior motives for the question, for she figured that such a birth would involve a substantial amount of blood… that it could be the place where the body could have been chopped-up and the evidence left behind would have been less noticeable.

"Oh yes," Brian answered her, "The mother and baby are here in the winter-house… the other hippos too. Brian explained that there were different sized enclosures inside the winter-house, and that they had used one of the smaller ones, one that was further away from all the noises and the hustle and bustle, for the pregnant mother to give birth in.

They came to the giraffes. All three of the visitors stopping abruptly to take in such an amazing and uncommon sight.

"They are magnificent!" Julia declared.

"They most certainly are," William agreed beside her.

It was then – that moment! "Slap, slap-slap," one of the giraffes swatted its tail.

Julia gasped! "Did you see that, William… detective," she corrected, "It swatted a fly! There are flies!"

"Yes," William replied, "That's good." He turned to the Inspector.

"Could be the place, Murdoch," the Inspector agreed.

"I'll need to get specimens, collect some of the eggs," Dr. Ogden started planning. "Hopefully I can find some maggots even…" she wondered. "Brian," she asked, "Is there a place where they discard the…" Julia considered the word, 'feces,' but then decided instead, "Manure. Is there a place where the zoo dumps the animals' manure?" she asked.

The group began walking down the central aisle again as Brian explained the procedures for cleaning the animal cages, and it was determined that, since the manure was dumped outside, it would be too cold for it to contain maggots.

They arrived at the hippo enclosure.

There was no denying it, that baby hippo was incredibly cute!

The mother hippo made a sound, likely worried about her baby, now that strangers had appeared. The sound surprised the visitors – more like a groan, somewhat like a roar of a lion, but a bit softer.

The Inspector marveled, "I expected it to sound like pig!"

"It does a bit," Julia replied, "Just bigger, like a cow mooing, sort of." She looked over to William. Oh! He had seen something! William had that look she knew – his wholly-absorbed, inside, focused, entranced, look. Out of the corner of her eye she saw that the Inspector had noticed it too.

Each of the cages had water for the animals, some in simple water buckets, others in large metal tubs, some in much larger water troughs. In this enclosure, there was a water tub. It had been knocked about, by the looks of things, and the animals had stepped in the spilled water on the floor… And there, right in front of them on the cement floor, was the hippo footprint. And William Murdoch was staring intently down, at that hippo footprint, on the floor.

His brain was firing inside, back to the ultraviolet photographs of the bruise he had taken six months ago, the bruise on the Body-Dumper's FIRST body, the bruise from the victim's broken leg, that Julia had said had been caused by his leg being rammed by something that would have weighed hundreds of pounds – he had figured the object might be something like a car. It had broken the man's leg, and it had left the bruise – "That bruise! It's just like in that dream… When I was giving the lecture! The drawing of the bruise on the blackboard! It was an animal, not a machine! It was a hippopotamus!" he remembered it clearly now, the pieces clicking into place. "And Julia said that the broken leg had been treated by someone who had medical experience, and that bruise had been made by a hippo, and so the person who most likely treated it was the veterinarian…!"

"William?" Julia asked, seeing him raising his eyes, coming out of his trance.

"I can't believe it. I think you were right, Inspector," he said, monotone, still spacy. The detective glanced over at Brian. He wanted to tell them everything he had figured out, but he decided against doing so in front of one of the zoo workers. And, too, he found he was bothered by it all still feeling so confoundingly muddled. He was getting a headache, he rubbed at the pain.

Brian guessed at the problem and excused himself, saying he had a lot of work to get to, and he would be back by the main entrance if they needed him.

"Well, spill it Murdoch – what was I right about?" the Inspector asked, his voice in a whisper.

"You were right, perhaps… At least I think," William wrinkled up his face with doubt, then finished, "That it was Elizabeth Mole," he answered, also whispering. He gestured down at the watery hippo footprint on the floor, noticing that it was already starting to dry.

Julia grasped it immediately, at least partially, exclaiming, barely keeping her voice to a whisper, "The footprint, look at the shape. It's just like the…"

The Inspector had caught up, finishing Dr. Ogden's thought, "The bruise on the man we could never identify – last fall, the bloke with no face from the rifle shot to the back of the head, with the broken leg," he said, recognizing the size and shape from the detective's photographs, and all the big to-do of publishing the picture of the unique bruise in the newspapers to see if the public could help identify what had made it.

"Julia, do you think a hippopotamus would weigh enough to have broken the unidentified man's leg?" William hurried his question, excited.

"I believe so. Yes!" she answered, the two of them sharing that sparkle they got with mutual discovery.

The Inspector cried out, "The hippo's the killer!?"

Somehow, thankfully, they managed to keep it subtle, William and Julia's shared rolling their eyes…

"Not exactly," William replied, looking to Julia.

"Inspector," Dr. Ogden would explain, acting as coroner, "The victim was injured here, at the zoo, a month before he was killed – William's… uh, Detective Murdoch's ultraviolet photograph detected the old bruise. He had been shot in the back of the head. That was what had killed him, and it would have been a month later. So, no, the hippo is NOT the killer."

"The two cases are linked," Murdoch explained, excitedly. "Both victims' bodies were dumped at our Body Farm. The first injured by a hippo before he died, the second with fly maggots on it in the middle of a frozen winter…"

"You see, Inspector," Dr. Ogden added, then looked to William a bit awed, "The zoo connects the two victims. That, and the tranquilizer gun." She turned to the Inspector and added, "We've since learned that Elizabeth Mole actually invented that tranquilizer gun." She turned back to William, "Is that why you think it was Dr. Mole…" Julia asked her husband, "Because of her tranquilizer gun?"

"No," he explained, "It's because it was most likely Dr. Mole who treated the first victim's broken leg."

"Oh, I see," she responded. "But…"

William frowned. "Not decisive, but another piece of evidence against her, I'd say, Dr. Mole having the medical experience necessary to set his broken leg. She links both victims, she worked here at the zoo with the first victim, we know, because she was probably the one who fixed his broken leg, and the second one was probably her husband, killed with her tranquilizer gun, his body left here, probably chopped-up here, where the flies could lay their eggs, so that the body would have maggots on it… She could have brought her axe from her home. It's missing." William wrinkled his face, it was all mere conjecture, but there was some sense to it…

"All right then," Julia would be the one to get down to the nitty-gritty. "I need to get samples of the flies and their eggs. And I suspect the place where the baby hippo was born may be the place where the body was chopped-up…"

"Yes, of course!" William interrupted, "to hide the blood. You never cease to amaze me, Julia… um, doctor," he said with a bow.

"Brian said the smaller cage they used for the birthing was further down," she replied. "I'll take a look. If there is blood, I need to sample it to check to see if it's human," she added.

"Well, I think we have enough that we will want to be taking Elizabeth Mole down to the stationhouse for questioning…" the Inspector surmised, "Not enough for an arrest, but enough to warrant holding her for suspicion. We'll need another carriage, maybe some constables. I'll go make the calls." He sighed to himself. It was going to be a very long walk back to the front gate where he would be able to use the phone.

"I'll go find Dr. Mole," William gave himself an assignment, then included, "And I have some questions for Brian as well. And we still really need that axe," he added.

)

Detective Murdoch found Brian back behind the right-side row of the animal enclosures, readying some of the animal meals, "Mostly various types of grains," he noted. When he inquired about a man who had had his leg broken by a hippopotamus, he finally found the identity of the first Body-Dumper victim, and it was stunning! The rest of the world thought the man had escaped from the Don Jail a half a year ago. But, in the end it turned out that he had not escaped at all. Dr. Restell, the man famous for being convicted, and sentenced to hang, for committing abortions, he had instead been murdered – shot in the back of the head with a rifle, a month after he had been stepped on by a hippopotamus, here, at the Riverdale Zoo, when helping Dr. Elizabeth Mole restrain the male hippopotamus who was going crazy because one of the females was in heat.

Brian explained that Dr. Restell helped out at the zoo, and that Restell was considered to be particularly valuable because of his medical skills as a doctor. "That's how Restell ended up being so close to the doc," Brian explained, using the colloquial term 'the doc' to refer to Dr. Elizabeth Mole.

William sensed that Brian was the type of man who enjoyed his gossip, and when it came to Dr. Restell and Dr. Elizabeth Mole, William could tell he had quite a bit more to tell. He pressed, asking, "Was there any talk? Maybe there was something more to their relationship…?" William wrinkled his face, doubting.

Brain quickly folded, bursting to tell the tales. The rumors around the zoo were that Restell and the pretty lady veterinarian were secret lovers. Brian, himself, had observed the two doctors, "intimately entwined," if you caught Brian's drift, "here in the winter-house sometimes, other times out in the rest of the zoo, hidden in the cages of some of the quieter, safer, animals." Brian had always figured that Restell had gotten hurt, "broke his leg – bad, when him and the doc were in the hippo enclosure at the end of last summer, sneakin' a rendezvous. That story they told – that they was in there to restrain the over-excited male, that just don't make sense. Why didn't they bring the 'Tranq,' then? Nah, them hippopotami, they're all nothin but sweeties – wouldn't hurt a fly," Brian insisted.

Before William took his leave to go find and question Elizabeth Mole, he decided to put his 'hunch' about Malcolm Lamb to rest, the evidence all pointing at Elizabeth Mole now. He asked Brian if he knew of the man who built this winter-house.

"You mean Lamb, Jr…?" Brian asked, chuckling at his own brazen use of the more derogatory nickname for the retired and convicted policeman. "Yeah. Yeah. Everybody here knows him. Turns out he's a good guy, despite – a retired detective, you know?" Brian checked.

William pinched his lips, "I know," all he gave. He waited for the witness to go on.

"Yeah. The men here all like him," Brian got back on track, "The woman too," he added with a chuckle.

"You mean Dr. Mole?" William hurried to ask.

"Yeah," Brian answered, "Lamb was the closest thing to Restell the doc had after Restell escaped. We always wondered…? You know, it seemed strange, Restell and the doc so in love, and then he goes and leaves her. You've seen her, detective," Brian paused, asked man-to-man, "Who leaves a woman like that?" he questioned. And then Brian thought forward, and he began to shake his head. He chuckled, "Though, of course, that's exactly what the doc's husband up and did too, left her. I guess there must be something…"

"Perhaps," William replied, mostly just to say something, to placate, because William was distracted, his brain barreling down multiple paths of possibilities and clues in his head. He was trying to map it out, Elizabeth and Restell were secret lovers. Restell got stepped on by the hippo – probably when they were hiding in the hippo enclosure making love…

Brian interrupted William's thoughts, declaring, "You know, Detective Murdoch, Lamb got hurt too, with her, um with the doc, now that I think about it. But… nah, nah. I don't think so, not that Lamb would complain, mind you…" Brian halted and looked up into William's face. "Sorry, detective," he said, noting the man looked confused. "Lamb and the doc was together in the water buffalo pen, and they both got hurt… About a month ago. Doc just got a shiner, and a split lip, but Lamb broke some ribs, got his face all busted up. Just seems to me to be more legit. I mean, there ain't nothin' goin' on between them two, you know, like with Restell. Lamb's too old..." Brain paused and looked at William, adding, "Older than you."

William pinched his lips together, absorbing the unintended jab of the comment, and nodded. "Yes," all he said. Then he took a breath and asked, "So Lamb and Dr. Mole, they were close though?"

"Yeah," Brian answered without having to think about it. "They got close because the doc needed to work with Lamb on constructing things here, around the zoo, for the animals. They seem to be good friends, is all… at least, I think," Brain explained. "Now," he added, "Lamb helps the doc with the animals too, sort of like Doc Restell did, but he don't know as much." Brian stepped behind his wheelbarrow full of animal feed. "That all, detective?" he asked, "I'm runnin' late."

"Yes, that's good. Thank you for your help," William replied. Thinking of Julia still in the building, he added, "Oh, uh Brian, our coroner, Dr. Ogden. She's still collecting some samples in here. Could you check on her, if you get a chance?" he asked.

"Sure thing, detective," Brian said over his shoulder.

Before winching the big front doors opened, William checked down the long, long corridor to see if he could spot Julia. Nothing, he turned and continued on with his part of solving the case.

)

There was a good amount of ground to cover to get to Elizabeth's offices and surgery, and William was walking at a hearty pace on the snowy, sloshy, barely-shoveled path. He was glad for the exercise and the chance to mull over his thoughts. Dr. Restell and Elizabeth were lovers. If the husband found out, then he could have killed Restell. Then Elizabeth killed her husband. But why wait so long? If it was revenge, why not kill Nicholas Mole six months ago…?

And, all of a sudden, it didn't feel like William's mind could go fast enough, thought after thought cascading by, each one important, maybe, making it hard to let go of one as the next thought emerged, straining his head till it would burst, trying to decide which thought to chase after, and which to let go of. "The rifle that killed Restell – could it have been one that belongs to the guards at the Don Jail?" And, somewhat from that thought, "Nicholas Mole was a guard at the Don Jail, the same prison Dr. Restell supposedly escaped from – that seems important, right?" And then his head really started to hurt, because he still suspected Malcolm Lamb, and his brain threw that into the mix, "And how does Lamb fit in? And if he does, how would Malcolm Lamb, a prisoner, dump TWO bodies at our Body Farm? Could Lamb have been in love with Elizabeth, and Lamb killed Restell? And better yet, why would Lamb, knowing I would suspect him, use my Body Farm at all?" And then, from some other side of William's racing brain, "Does Alderman Lamb play a role? The Inspector always says to follow the money – could I be missing something, there? Two opposing thoughts at the exact same time, the first, more a memory, about all the money involved with the Pink Panther Diamond and the fact that that big affair was held right here at Alderman Lamb's Riverdale Zoo, and from the other side, with a niggling, "And where's that axe – that axe that should have been at Elizabeth Mole's woodpile? Did she bring it here, to chop-up her husband's body before bringing all the pieces to our Body Farm?"

And it all halted abruptly there, because he had remembered, breathless with the guilt and the sheer stupidness of it – HE had told Elizabeth Mole about his booby-traps at the Body Farm…! During the whole Pink Panther Diamond – Neil Catfrey – Sally Pendrick case, while he was setting-up the Constabulary's protection of the big diamond during Thurston Howell's 'Howell-oween Bash,' with the lion being dyed pink. She would have known! She could have planned the body dump, knowing about his traps – brought the stepladders to get over the fence without tripping the wires! It had to be her! He had to find Dr. Elizabeth Mole.

)

Julia slapped her thighs as she stood from her long squat, re-checking the fly and maggot samples she had packed into her medical bag. She sighed and looked around once more. It had been a delaying tactic. Still, she was alone. She had found what she thought was the cage where the hippo birth could have occurred, and it did appear that there were some blood stains on the floor in there. In the cage, there was a camel, and she had put off going in alone, thinking she would ask Brian for help. But now she had not been able to find the man, and so she had returned on her own. She stood here now, trying to work up the nerve to go in and get the blood samples on her own. Her mind flashed to remember William whispering to her in the Inspector's office the other day, wanting her to go with him to the zoo – to this zoo, because she had promised not to be alone once she had reached the halfway point of her pregnancy. She was still not to that halfway point, close, but not there. Julia used this as her final decision maker. She lifted the big, heavy latch of the cage door. She would venture it.

)

Arriving at Elizabeth Mole's offices and surgery building, William's ceaseless barraging of thoughts still pounded inside his head. The footprints left by the Body-Dumper in the dirt, and then subsequently, in the snow, at their Body Farm, too big to be Elizabeth's. And then he remembered the odd weight distribution of the footprints in the snow – so much like those left by orphan urchins, like young Dorrie and Pip, from when they used bigger shoes and they wadded-up socks into the toes to make them fit. It could have been Elizabeth, wearing a man's boots…?

In through the back door, the one closest to the back path to the winter-house, and on first impression the place was quiet. William considered, standing still, listening- so that he could hear his own heartbeat in his ears, that there was no one else there. He was alone. It was an instinct, and he had learned to trust them when they came, to search the place for evidence of a struggle. "Perhaps, just perhaps, one of the victims had been killed here. Restell's murder was quite a long time ago, half a year – not likely to be much from him. But, he was shot, and there was not a bullet. Perhaps… lodged in the wall somewhere?" William began his searching.

It was in the surgery – "so, there could be an explanation other than murder," William's brain balanced against his anticipation – there was blood. He would need Julia to test it, to see if it was human, he planned forward. It was in the cracks of the floorboards, but he was optimistic that it was a clue, that it would not end up being blood from an animal, so it would be evidence in the case, because it was far from the table where the animals were treated, more to the side of the room, near the cabinets. William's mind dashed down the path of imagining the crime taking place inside his head… "the blood had been cleaned up afterwards, too long ago to be from Dr. Restell, more likely from the husband, when Nicholas Mole was killed a month ago. The body was chopped-up, unlikely in here – too small…" William noted the height of the ceilings, imagined swinging an axe – the missing axe, from Elizabeth's woodpile. "No. No, not in here, the chopping…But the body's head had been missing, he could have sustained facial injuries, a broken nose that we would not have known about… The body, Mole, had a boxer's fracture – there could have been a fight, here… Maybe he laid on the floor, here, right here, a month ago, dead, dying, bleeding… after being shot behind his knee with the tranquilizer dart from the tranquilizer gun – It's stored right there, in that cabinet…"

From his squatted position over the suspected clue, the blood on the floor, William lifted out of his thoughts and began to observe his surroundings again. His eyes caught a shadow, out of his periphery, a shadow, a tiny divot, in the wall – a dent, right there, in the plaster. He stood to better investigate it. Interrupting, always it felt so abrupt and so rude, and too, almost always, it was important, his brain whispered it in from the other side, somewhere – "Malcolm Lamb had broken ribs, and a broken nose, about a month ago!" Maybe it wasn't the victim lying bleeding on the floor, the new possibility emerged. "It could be Lamb's blood? Even Elizabeth – she had a split lip. They made up that tale, that they were injured by the water buffalo, not because they were making love together a month ago, like what had happened with Restell and Elizabeth in the hippo enclosure six months prior, but because they had had a violent confrontation with Elizabeth's husband. They killed him! One of them killed him, during that confrontation!" The images, hazy at the edges, an odd, greenish tint, flashed by in his mind as he envisioned it… The husband caught Lamb and Elizabeth, here in the surgery, maybe kissing, he filled in where he had doubts. Mole rushed in, furious, out of control, shoved them apart. The images flew faster, Lamb's head rammed into wall there, making the dent. Then Mole turned on his wife, punched Elizabeth, knocking her to the floor, hurting her lip. The two men struggled, punches were thrown. Blood splattered. Mole was bigger, stronger than Lamb. He broke his ribs, kicking and kicking at the nearly unconscious man lying on the floor, bleeding there, where the blood is in the cracks… Then Mole went for Elizabeth again. Lamb, unseen behind him, forces himself to stand up, stumbles over to the cabinet…

There was a noise! In the other room! Sudden stillness, through every inch of his body, as William froze and listened… Another noise – a drawer?! Someone's there!

Malcolm didn't see the detective behind him. He thought he was alone. Elizabeth had run to the construction site. Warned him that the Constabulary had the warrant, that they were here at the zoo, that they were searching, that they would find something, that they had to go NOW, that it couldn't wait until they had planned. To get away, they needed the money. They needed the bags, with the supplies… hair dye, fake beard until he could grow a real one, papers for their new lives…

William watched, partially stunned, realizing right this second that he truly had not expected to have been right – It was Malcolm Lamb! The man was gathering up things. He was making his escape. The story unfolded at lightning speed in his head. He understood that it had to have been Lamb who had planned the disposing of Mole's body, "chopped it up, like he'd done before, Lamb's instinct, a good detective's instinct, that smaller pieces are harder to identify. Elizabeth brought him her axe, from her house. Lamb knew the body pieces needed to be dumped in the woods, they would be food made available to the animals, the scavengers, to carry away, to decompose more rapidly than a whole body would, left and dumped intact." One of those intrusive whispers – "Lamb had been badly injured. He was in the Don Jail's infirmary. That's why they had to wait! They couldn't get rid of Mole's body right away, they had to hide the body until Lamb could help, they had to hide it for a week while Lamb was in the infirmary, and they hid the body in the foul-smelling winter-house… Then later, Lamb chopped it up! It had to be Elizabeth who disposed of her husband's body, took the pieces to the Body Farm, because Lamb is an inmate. Another side-whisper, "Why would Lamb tell her to dump it there?"

"That's it. Got it all!" Malcolm's inner voice declared, "Gotta go. Hurry! – Elizabeth's waiting at the winter-house…"

Malcolm turned…

Eye-to-eye, the world changed in a flash.

"Murdoch!?" the gasp - so forlorn under the surprise. He was done for. Murdoch had gotten him again. Stood before him. He was caught in the act, Elizabeth's Tranq. gun aimed at him. He would not get away. Maybe she still would… At least, maybe Elizabeth would be alright…

"Malcolm Lamb," Murdoch replied. "It seems you were planning on going somewhere."

There was a connection between these two men – there always had been. Lamb would never wholly know why, but to this man, to this man, he felt his tale needed to be told.

It blurted out like a blubbering, his confession, "I love her, Murdoch. And Elizabeth cares for me. I gave up the lady I loved for justice in the past. I loved Sarah. I still do. But that's over now. I missed my chance, then, with Sarah. Not this time. Not this time…"

It was the look in Murdoch's eyes, a compassion, an empathy, a KNOWN PAIN. It melted any resolve Malcolm Lamb had, just the little flicker of unspoken, subconscious hope that Murdoch might let him go – "He'd done it with Constance Gardiner," the reminder fired, fizzled away in the background.

Malcolm put the bags down on the floor and lifted his hands, surrendering to the detective. He told the story. Elizabeth had been planning to escape, to run away, with Dr. Restell. Now it would be with him. He would take his chance. He loved Elizabeth. He had killed her husband, when there were others around, in the middle of a typical day here. There had been no gunshot, he had used the Tranq. gun, so the murder was easily concealed. They were able to convince the other prison guard and the other workers that any ruckus overheard in the surgery had been because of one of Elizabeth and her husband's fights. They had claimed that Mole had gotten unduly jealous when he found his wife treating Lamb's wounds from restraining the water buffalo. They planned to tell people that they had both gotten hurt working with the water buffalo – "the animal gets crazed, it would be believable." Or people might think that Elizabeth had actually been battered, instead, by her husband. Either way it didn't harm their story, for it was common that Elizabeth and her husband to lie about whenever Mole had beaten her up, blaming her bruises on the animals. They held to the believable lie, said that she and her husband had fought in the surgery. Lamb walked out, injured, supposedly by the water buffalo. Elizabeth stayed in the surgery with Mole's body. He told the other guard that the couple was 'making up after their fight,' and that Mole wanted the guard to cover for him at the prison. That guard took Lamb and the other prisoners back to the jail. Later, when everyone was gone, Elizabeth took Mole's body out and hid it in the winter-house. The smell inside there was so disgusting that it would cover up the stench of the rotting body. Lamb admitted, "As soon as I could, she helped me get rid of it." Lamb chopped it up, nearly a week later. "It was perfect, in a way – the hippo birth happened at just the right time," Lamb said, "The blood from the birth was a perfect cover. I chopped it up. Elizabeth's only part was that she disposed of the body…"

"What of Restell?" William asked.

"The day Mole, uh, that day," Malcolm began, "I had kissed Elizabeth. I told her I loved her, and that I wanted to protect her from her husband. Mole had beaten her again, you see. She said it was because he thought WE were having an affair," Lamb paused, looked into Murdoch's eyes, "I swear we weren't, Murdoch. I was smitten, Elizabeth knew that, but she… um, it was not that way for her. Not like it had been with Restell. She told me, then." Lamb gestured, wanted to put his arms down, talk this out, heart-to-heart, man-to-man.

William nodded. Lamb brought his hands down, then reached up and rubbed his brow. Just a little, William recognized the gesture as like his own. It tightened the connection between the two men, again that tug in William's chest.

Lamb continued the tale, "There had been rumors, about Restell and Elizabeth, having secret… That they were in love, having an affair…" Lamb cleared his throat, then went on, "It was said there were… trysts, in the animal pens. That that's what was going on when Restell broke his leg…"

William nodded. That fit with what he had learned. Lamb's story felt believable – so far.

Lamb continued, "Mole was suspicious. One night, Restell didn't return to the prison with the other prisoners. That happened sometimes, an emergency surgery, usually the…" Lamb rubbed his brow again, "the uh, given reason. Um, on this particular night, Mole came back to the zoo. Like I said, he was suspicious. The day, um… Mole… when I killed Mole, he had overheard Elizabeth telling me that Mole had caught her and Restell, here in the surgery together, having…um. Mole beat Restell. Elizabeth said he dragged Restell out and shoved his limp body into the paddy wagon. That was the last she saw of him. The next day the story came out about Restell and his cellmate trying to escape…" Lamb checked with Murdoch, "The papers said…"

"I remember," William gave, "The cellmate was killed, shot at the fenceline. Dr. Restell supposedly had managed to escape." In the back of William's brain, he was putting the pieces together. Mole killed Restell that night six months ago, shot him in the back of the head after he took him away in the paddy wagon. Then Mole dumped Restell's body at their Body Farm. It was close to here. There were lots of bodies buried there. It was just Mole's bad luck that Julia and her students found the body the next day, because of their seasonal-effects on decomposition study…

"Yes," Lamb went on, "Elizabeth never believed he escaped. She said she knew her husband had killed Restell that night. And that Mole beat her, and that he as much as bragged about killing Restell to her. That ever since then, Mole was hypervigilant, watching her all the time. She wasn't safe…" Lamb frowned. "She was right, Murdoch. Mole stormed in here while she was telling me the whole thing. You already know the rest. I killed him, protecting her from the violent man. She helped me cover it up…"

William's mind shot back to the clues, envisioning Elizabeth Mole in the snow, wearing her husband's clothes, his big boots, making the irregular footprints… She would have used his horse and wagon, sold them afterwards so that they would also appear to have gone missing, as would be expected if her husband had left her. It was probably those same clothes that she had worn to dump the body at their Body Farm that she had burned where he had found the pit behind her house. "The axe…?" he wondered…

"All she did was dispose of the body for me," Malcolm begged, at the end, "She's beautiful, and lovely, and innocent. You have to let her go… like you did for Constance Gardiner…"

"Constance Gardiner was a murderer," William heard himself say, his conscious battling with his own demons. What he had done back then, worse, because of that…

Malcolm Lamb jumped, seeing the opening, "But Elizabeth is not. You have to let her go," with such pleading in his eyes. And then he added, "Mole beat her, Murdoch. Locked her in his tiny prison he'd constructed for her, trapped her with terror, and he beat her, beat her all the time. And he would have killed her someday – maybe that day. I had no choice. I know you see that. Let it go. Let me walk out that door. You didn't see me. Please…"

William's heart felt the pull, the sinking, and he answered, shaking his head, "You know I can't…"

"You run into brutes everywhere, Murdoch. And people like you and me, we don't cower in the face of injustice, now, do we?" Lamb argued.

William remembered, his sadness palpable in his voice as he replied, for it was devastatingly undeniable, how much it was like him letting go of Julia in order to free Eva Moon, letting Constance Gardiner escape instead of stopping Julia's wedding to Darcy, "Justice for Harriet King, the cost was your love for Sarah Connolly. Back then, though, your relentless devotion to justice was why you left one of the cement blocks of your three victims' remains by the river? So that I might find it, and possibly solve Harriet King's murder. Is that why, this time, you had Elizabeth use our Bod…"

WHAM! – the blow landed against the back of his head from behind. William dropped, wobbly, but falling, William dropped to the floor. He still held the Tranq. gun… Tried to aim it…

Whack! – Lamb kicked the gun from his hand.

Elizabeth grabbed the bags, passed one to Malcolm…

Murdoch was up, the two men fighting for possession of the gun. William had it! Mostly, he had it. The bag in Lamb's hand – an impromptu weapon – Lamb swung it, walloping Murdoch in the face, the gun, unseen, just the sound of it, clanking, and sliding off to the side, somewhere on the floor. William saw stars, stumbled, faltered, so dizzy, fighting with all his might to steady, to balance…

Escaping, the two of them were out the door…

Elizabeth stopped, and turned back….

William stammered, rushing to find the Tranq. gun on the floor…

Elizabeth's voice over his shoulder…

"You have a choice detective – chase after us, or go save your wife!"

William grabbed the Tranq. gun, and rushed, full-speed, for the winter-house. "Julia! Julia was in danger!"

)

Dr. Mole had surprised her while she was swabbing-up blood on the ground inside the camel cage. Grabbed her medical bag from behind her. Pulled out a scalpel. Elizabeth Mole said she was sorry, but she couldn't let Julia finish. She would lock her up somewhere – in one of the cages, so Julia could not get away, to alert the others, or to stop her, and then Elizabeth had made her escape.

)

There was a big, uprooted tree, now missing all of its leaves and much of its bark, cemented into the center of the cage, "For the animals to climb on," Julia explained its existence to herself inside of her head. She recognized the tactic, distract herself from feeling overwhelmed with fear by thinking about something specific, right in front of her, grounding herself. William would come back soon. She just had to wait it out, she tried to calm her nerves. Slam, the sickening feeling of the panic struck, like a lightning bolt – "Unless Elizabeth had hurt him! Maybe, she already had, before she came for me!" Maybe she was using Julia's own scalpel, had it aimed at William right now! Her hand covered her pregnant belly. She worked to quell her fears that William had been hurt, pushed away, pushed down, the rising thought, that he could be killed.

She needed to get out of there. Julia's eyes focused on the bars, "so much like prison-cell bars, especially when experienced from this side, she told herself, with the slight whish of a nervous giggle. She must have been settling down, a part of her thought, for the memory that came was pleasant. It had been the bars that had triggered it, her being on this side of the bars. She remembered it started when George arrested her for teaching impoverished women about contraception, while Darcy was out of town. She chuckled to herself, that's why she had chosen that day, not wanting Darcy to know. She had figured that William would come down to the cells. It had been such a long time since she had seen him, and she had worked herself up into quite a lather thinking that he would come. Such a churning in her heart as she asked herself if she would be able to hide how much she still loved him – even more of a flutter when she asked, would he still love her? And then suddenly, William was just there… and she knew, she knew and the earth quaked and rattled and rolled underneath her with the knowing of it – she was still madly in love with him, and he with her. And it hurt so badly, and she knew it hurt them both, and she still wondered how they each had the strength to play like that that truth wasn't so, but they had done so. She remembered stepping herself back into the cell and pulling the door, those bars, closed between them, William on the other side, telling her she was being stubborn, and her, knowing in her heart, that William, unlike Darcy, admired her for her determination and her bravery and her strength in standing up for her principles, that even more, William loved her for it… "Actually," she thought, "the memory was not so much a pleasant one, as instead, one that was bittersw…"

Her gasp and the wild swinging of her head, up to see, at the same time as when it moved – up in the tree…

I'm sure you've guessed by now…

that it was

the tiger…

the Tiger, that was up in the tree.

)) ((

*In Malcolm Lamb's life, there have been two tales. It could be argued that in both, Malcolm Lamb chose the Tiger. The first of those life-tales is from his past, choosing back then to stay fast to his obsession with gaining justice for Harriet King – we see that Justice is Malcolm Lamb's Tiger. Upon encountering the dilemma between the Lady, or the Tiger that first time, Malcolm Lamb did NOT choose the Lady in the tale, letting his love for Sarah Connelly be the door he did not open. He had faced the consequences of his choosing the Tiger back then, much as his father, the second "Lamb" in our tale, the rich and powerful Alderman Lamb, had claimed he had, by taking his jail sentence like a good man would.

But Malcolm Lamb had two tales, and in the second tale, fate had given him the same choice again, between the Lady, or the Tiger. It could be argued that Malcolm Lamb had chosen the Tiger once more, by defending Elizabeth Mole from the injustices visited upon her by her husband. In that way, Malcom Lamb had faced and slain the Tiger. He had stood up for Justice. But, consider his true motivations. Is it not, that in making this choice, Malcolm Lamb was truly choosing the Lady after all?

So too, when considering Malcolm Lamb's confession to William. Didn't Malcolm Lamb choose Justice by confessing the truth? But, I must ask you, was he telling for Justice? Was Malcolm Lamb choosing the Tiger when he told William his tale? Or was he telling it for the Lady – to plead for her freedom? No. No, this time, this second chance, Malcolm Lamb, much like William had done that night when HIS Lady had shown up in that stunning red velvet dress, no,Malcolm Lamb, this second time, he chose the Lady.

**The saying, 'two shakes of lamb's tail' means 'very quick.' This has been a long and winding story, and not much of it has been very quick. But, things are happening quickly now, and that ending has reared its head on the horizon. It will not be long now until we know, we know in a very, very real and physical sense, whether it will be, in the end, The Lady, or the Tiger.