Chapter I

April, 1901

"I told you, I did nothing wrong!" the young brute shouted as he struggled to break from my strong grip. At this point, the brown-furred mouse reeked of paranoia and alcohol as he once more tried to strike at me. From his earlier attempt to escape, three bobbies had pinned him to the ground, causing his clothes to become dishevelled and stained with mud from the rain hours prior. Tired as he was, he refused to give in before Vole struck him with a powerful blow to his stomach. Doubling over in pain, I too almost lost my balance before recovering, harshly bringing him back to his feet.

"Is that so?" Vole questioned as he stood before him, revolver in hand if needed. "Then why is it that you were seen coming out of Miss Harrison's flat late last night with blood stains on your shirt and trousers?"

"I don't know what you are talking about! Why would I be in another woman's flat?! I'm happily married."

"Not according to your wife," I pointed out. "She came to us, saying that after you were kicked out you were harassing her. Not only that, she said that you threatened to beat her senseless if she did not take you back."

"I would never say such things to my wif-"

"To make matters worse for you," I interrupted him, "some of your bar mates confessed to seeing you stumble out of the pub around ten 'o clock last night. They said that you had plans to call upon Jessica Harrison." I felt the mouse go limp, feeling defeat. "It seemed that no one knew of your affair with Miss Harrison until she went to your wife, admitting that she was pregnant with your child."

"And in rage that your secret was revealed, you broke into her flat, raping and then murdering her with your own bare hands. Who knew such things like affairs could spread as fast as wildfire, especially when they involve respectable citizens such as yourself," the inspector finished.

Silence took over him for a moment or so. Almost begging for mercy, he looked up at Vole. "I-it was an accident, I swear to you. Never in my life would I ever lay a hand on Jessica…or Michelle."

"Oldest tale in the book-" I told him sarcastically before interrupted me harshly.

"Goddamn it, it is true!" He stared into my eyes with such pain, such guilt. Before taking a ragged breath, he continued. "I was young when my wife and I married, she sixteen and I only twenty. Yes, I fooled around, slept with a woman here and there, but I knew nothing about commitment. Jessica was nothing but another pleasurable affair.

"When I came home, I was already stressed for we all got pay cuts but were reduced hours at the docks. This meant that I to work longer, but still struggle to support my family. By this time, I soon realized what I was doing to Michelle was wrong and I wished to make things right. Do you know what it is like to arrive to objects being thrown at you the second you walk through the door? Being called an ungrateful husband? Of course you don't. All of you know better than to cheat on your precious wives. You all are too good to wonder what it would be like to have another woman in your arms at night."

"So why, after she bravely admitted carrying your child to your wife, would you feel the need to harm her-?"

"I told you dammit that I didn't mean to do it! I-I just let my anger get to me."

"That much is clear."

Out of nowhere, two shots were fired, both hitting our suspect dead on and killing him instantly. Dropping his body, the inspector and myself, along with a few other officers that were with him hid where we could with our own revolvers ready to fire. After a few moments of silence, I bravely moved from my hiding place, which was soon to be proven as a mistake when another gunshot came inches from striking me in the head. Jumping back to safety, I took my shot. Almost like an instant reaction, more shots went flying towards us.

Without having to look, I knew two officers were hit for I could hear almost simultaneously their cries echoing in my ears. I knew who and so did Vole. It was minutes later that we both heard faint shouts following soon by feet running away from us.

"Goddamn it!" Vole yelled as he rushed towards the two wounded mice.

"Sanders is dead, inspector; but Caruthers might still have a chance," Gregory, the newest of the small group announced.

"Jesus…" Removing his helmet to wipe away the beads of sweat from his brow, he added, "Get them to St. Barts post haste, we've already lost one officer, I can't afford to lose another."

"Yes, Inspector," the young officer replied before her and other took the two bodies away. I turned towards Vole who only looked onward is grief and despair.

"Now I need to address Sanders' family of this," he told me quietly. "They've already had one loss to deal with; I don't think his wife can handle another."

"I'll inform her, Vole. It is on my way home so it will be no trouble for me. It'll at least save you the guilt," I suggested to the distraught inspector. Sanders was one of his best and I could imagine how horrible he felt at this moment. The remorse and irritation would only escalate after being cursed left and right for not doing what he could to keep her husband out of harm's way. Seeing that his wife was full-blooded Scottish, her insults would more than likely be twice as harsh. I could handle that for throughout my entire career, I have had everything from insults to death threats, Vole, not so much.

"Much appreciated, Basil. I have already had my fair share of drama and suspense for one night. I guess you should return to your wife and child as well. I have been told that your little one has not been feeling well as of late."

"Dawson has been checking on her and she is showing progress. Paula won't worry too much; she knows my habits far too well. Besides, you have enough on your mind already so I best leave you."

"Yes. Thank you for your assistance, though I was looking forward to throwing him into prison with a well deserved death sentence.

Looking back at where the assassin more than likely stood, I replied, "It seems someone else took it upon themselves to act on it."

"Indeed so, but we shall deal with that when needed. Evening to you, detective."

"You as well, old boy."

The chill air seemed to keep me extra alert as I made my way home. Street lights lit up the abandon sidewalk. My heart still ached after breaking the news of Sanders' death to his wife. If I had not married, would it not have affected me so much? Probably not. This proved to me how heartless I truly was at times. What got to me the most was the fact that I could have almost lost my life as well. I was incredibly lucky that bullet did not strike me. Whoever this assassin was definitely got us worked up.

When arriving home, no fire burned downstairs. This told me that everyone was more than likely in bed by now. Striking a match, I glanced down at my pocket watch; it read a quarter to ten. It seemed so much later than that. After removing my Inverness coat and Norfolk jacket, I hung them on the coat rack. Instead of going straight upstairs, I headed into the kitchen to grab a small glass. Sitting on the mantel was my bottle of brandy. At a moment like this, a drink was definitely what I needed.

I sat in my favourite red chair for what seemed like hours. When the small clock on the mantel chimed, I figured it was best for me to head to bed, though I knew after today's events sleep was going to be impossible. Making my way upstairs, I was surprised to see light coming from our bedroom and the door widely ajar. Not soon after Paula stepping out of the nursery. Her face was weary due to our sick infant, but still the loveliest that I could always count on seeing on a day like this.

"Hey," she greeted me quietly when she turned to face me. "Did you just get home?"

"About an hour ago, actually," I told her as I tried to put on a smile. "Is everything all right?"

"Yeah," she replied, her voice quiet as she closed the door the rest of the way, but still leaving it cracked open slightly. "I just finished feeding Sara. She seems to be getting better."

"That's good to know. So I can only assume that her fever has finally gone down?"

"It has. Dawson came by earlier to check up on her. So maybe now we both can get some sleep."

"I don't think that will happen for me, darling."

I knew the moment I made that comment, she would become concerned. Giving me a questionable look, she inquired, "Why? Are you okay?"

I sighed deeply before leading her into the bedroom. "Yes… but no," I finally replied, closing the door behind us. As Paula took a seat on the bed, I began to strip myself of my waistcoat, cravat, and shirt. "We found Matthews making his way to his usual pub and caught him."

"Well that's great!"

"True, however we had some unexpected visitors. Two shots were fired, killing him."

"That's a bad thing?" she questioned, more than likely confused by my tone. "He was going to be given the death sentence anyway, right?"

"Of course, but that's not all that happened."

"What else?"

"Two of Vole's officers were hit as well. The second Matthews was killed, the shots just kept coming. One killed instantly and the other is in critical condition." I paused for a moment once I was finally removed of my top clothing and now it just my trousers. "Paula, you know Sanders' wife, yes?"

"Danielle? Why yes I do, I was just over there with Sara earlier to see how she was holding up."

"I was just over there several hours ago." I groaned sympathetically, brushing my fingers through my hair. "Her husband was the one killed."

Silence fell upon the both of us as Paula looked away with such grief. She had met his wife through me a month before we found out she was pregnant with Sara. She and Paula became close from the very moment they had met. It was only a month ago that Sanders and his wife had lost their unborn child. Due to complications during pregnancy, she had miscarried. So the news that her husband had been killed was the last thing she wanted to hear.

"Poor Danielle… This is too much for her," Paula finally said.

"Indeed it is…" I agreed softly as I took a seat beside my own wife.

"Jonathan, there's something else bothering you, isn't there?" she asked, concerned that perhaps all of today's events were finally taking their toll on me.

"I'm fine, it's just…I too could have almost been killed today. Just thinking that if that bullet came any closer-"

"Okay, stop," my wife interfered, forcing my head to look towards her. "Though I feel terrible for Danielle's loss, you survived for a reason."

"But what if I hadn't?" I questioned to her, my voice a bit strained at the very thought. "Throughout my career I have been lucky that I managed survive even when I was inches away from the brink of death. Was this just another game of blind luck? I have seen Yard officers fall to their feet while at times I never gained so much as a scratch. Someday my luck with end and I will fall like the rest of them. When that day happens, where will that leave you and Sara, or any other child we might have?"

Placing a hand on my shoulder, she questioned, "What has gotten into you?"

"I…I-I don't know. I have never allowed such things as this get to me before. So why now?"

She smiled softly before replying, "Perhaps it is because you too have a wife and child of your own."

"That must be," I chuckled lightly. As I rested my head in my hands, I soon felt myself begin to shake slightly as Paula moved behind me. "What are you doing?"

"You seem tense," she replied calmly. I could feel the comforting warmth of her body as she pressed herself close to me.

"I am tense," I teased as I felt her hands glide across my bare shoulders. "Let me know how you feel after almost getting your head blown off."

"I already know how it feels," Paula reminded me softly as she worked her fingers over my shoulder blades. The feeling of her hands across my bare back caused me to sigh deeply. I must have been tenser than I originally thought. Somehow, however, she always seemed to relax me, but in this case though, perhaps a bit too relaxed. I soon felt my heart begin to race as she made her way down my back. I knew her intentions were innocent, but I don't think she knew what her touch did to me as my body began to burn. Suddenly, however, I tensed up once more as her hands glided across the small of my back.

"I need you to relax, Jonathan," she told me as she moved back up to my shoulders once more. As much as I wanted to, I honestly couldn't; not at this moment as least. Taking her hand into mine, I turned to face her. For a moment she was confused until I leaned in, catching her lips with mine in a passionate kiss. She soon knew my intent as she allowed herself to be taken, allowing our kiss to deepen. Instantly in the moment, I felt her lean into me. Leaving her lips, I began to kiss down her neck. She sighed softly, gripping onto me with her very life. I could feel the harsh pounding of her heart against me as my kisses seemed to send tiny electric shocks shooting through her very core.

"Jonathan…," she whimpered helplessly, wanting more. If only she knew what her tone of voice did to me, I thought as my desire for her heightened.
"Are you up to it?" I questioned in between my kisses while my hands ventured.

Hearing her breathy laugh seemed to arouse me further. "Do you even have to ask?" Smiling back, I met her in another kiss before sliding off the bed to lock the door.

"Don't want any unexpected visitors, do we?"

"No…," she answered before I crawled back onto the mattress, not even bothering to close the curtains on the opposite side of the bedroom. Without missing a beat, our lips met once more as I wrapped my arms around her waist, keeping her close. I needed her close.

No matter what sour mood I was ever in, that woman always seemed to be able to drag me out it, tonight especially. Both of us had been under a great amount of stress, from dealing with these recent murders left and right to our sick daughter. So this night was ours and ours alone as we allowed ourselves to become lost in the depths of our own pleasure. It seemed that nothing could ruin it. It seemed that my assumption was soon to be proven wrong.