Chapter 23

In the kitchen of The Little Gem Antoine Dupont was doing what he does best…eating. As he reached for another delicious crepe he had to work hard to swallow the bile that he felt in his throat at being seated across the table from someone he despised so much. Mind you, these crepes were good, almost on par with his mother's although hers were made with so much love that it elevated them to a place of heavenly joy in his mind.

Gustav was being very close guarded, happy to be chattering in French with another to whom the language came naturally but always with a hesitancy about him. Although considered by many to be a Frenchman, Antoine's family had left Gerbéviller when his mother was expecting him and made their way across the Atlantic to Canada. His father was determined to give them a better life than what was available to someone from his background. He had experienced the social division first hand when training to be a teacher, so defined that it was difficult for someone from his poor class to bridge that gap. He wanted more for his wife and child.

Antoine was certain that Gustav knew he was fishing for information, the skill was to fool him into believing that his reason was to benefit himself and not give away the fact that he was a Mountie. "So, Monsieur Bouchard has left you here to handle all the backlash of last night, I see," he casually asked while picking up another piece of crepe with his fork. "Does he do that often? Leave you to sort out his mess?"

It was obvious he had struck a nerve with the chef, the quickening of his movement as he cleaned the crepe pan showing his frustration. So Antoine continued. "How did you come to be working for him in the first place? It's not often that you find a skilled chef such as yourself in a backward town like Hope Valley."

Pointing with his fork at the plate in front of him he kept up the complimentary dialogue. "I mean, these crepes are amazing. In fact, every meal I have eaten since I arrived has been worthy of the finest restaurants in Paris. You are wasted here mon ami."

He could tell that Gustav was enjoying the praise and yet he could feel the edge to his voice as he turned towards him. "Of course I am, it is ridiculous for me to be here but.." and with a shrug of his shoulders he went back to his pan.

Antoine knew of Gustav's relationship with the Bouchards and to an ordinary patron that would perhaps be enough to explain why he was here. Yet no mention of it was made. It was obvious that subtle conversation was not going to get him anywhere so after taking one final mouthful of food he braced himself for the answer to his next question. "So what is it, apart from you being Lucas Bouchard's cousin, that keeps you here. Or, more to the point, how complicit are you in all the illegal dealings that he and his mother are involved with?"

In the dining room Bruce Wilson was pouring himself another cup of coffee having taken great care in recounting the details of the experience they had been subject to, at least how it would have been had their questioning by The Mounties been genuine. Knowing the distrust that the other gamblers had for those in uniform he knew exactly what to say. The other man was enthralled, relieved that he had not been taken in himself and almost experiencing a touch of schadenfreude as Bruce told of the proceedings.

"They were unrelenting," he found himself saying. "So many questions repeated over and over again. Poor Antoine had a hard time at first, his English not being as good, but then this Mountie just started speaking to him in French. Amazing bloke!"

By this time others had moved closer, eager to hear about the interrogation, so Bruce knew that he had said sufficient to draw them in and could move the conversation on. "Enough of that. Where is everyone headed to now that the game is off? You do realise we will be in serious trouble for that."

He could see the wariness in all their eyes but wasn't ready to give up. "Come on, give a bloke a break here and tell me where you think they'll want us next so that we can at least prepare. This has been a failure and with a debt like mine I know they are not going to let this go. We need to stick together now more than ever."

One after the other they finally spoke. They were his mates he kept telling them and from each sentence he put together just how much of a hold the mobsters had on every one of them. The man he had taken as leader was more forthcoming now that he had support from the other players. While he didn't know a great deal, he did at least confirm that there had been other games going on simultaneously around the country, each with the dual purpose of laundering mob money and drawing the attention of The Mounties away from what else was happening.

He was feeling more confident now, a touch of bravado at having information that no-one else knew. So he told them what he had heard about how the shipments from the warehouses in Hope Valley were a scam, designed to look suspicious so that they would be stopped and become the focus of The Mountie's investigation, allowing others to pass clearly across the main route on the St Lawrence River.

Bruce was unsure how to proceed, knowing that to persuade him to turn on the mob and testify against Bouchard and Shue Moy he would have to reveal himself as a Mountie. Suddenly he could hear the fear in the man's voice as he realised that he was saying too much. If they found out he had spoken then it was certain that he would be killed.

Understanding the turmoil he was going through Bruce knew the moment had come. "How long has Shue Moy owned you?" he asked. The man appeared confused then looking him directly in the eye he replied. "It is not Shue Moy you should be worried about, he is the minor player in this. Rocco Perri has his man here in Hope Valley and that is where the biggest danger lies."

Hearing this suddenly made sense of some of the things that had happened but just as he was about to push him for more information there was the sound of shouting and commotion from the kitchen. Then the door swung open as a collapsing figure stumbled through, clutching a cloth to his arm where blood was seeping out from the knife embedded there. With his heart beating fast Bruce raced to catch him as he fell.

Panic set in then at The Little Gem, the card players all gathering up their money and heading to their rooms as they were desperate to get far away from what was happening downstairs. Bruce had taken control. As much as he wanted to hold on to the main player and try to persuade him that the only way out of his situation was to help the Mounties bring the mobsters to justice, dealing with what was in front of him was his priority.

All Mounties were well trained in first aid so he didn't listen when others told him to take the knife out. Grabbing some napkins from the tables he packed them against the wound to stem the flow of blood, shouting for someone to run across to get one of the doctors to come over and arrange for a stretcher to be brought as well and to his relief another pair of hands pressed down beside his.

There was an air of fear emanating from those left in the room, the reality of someone being stabbed bringing home to all these men just how dangerous a position they had put themselves in when they entered the corrupt world of criminals and mobsters. Bruce looked up, searching the room for the man he felt had been so close to turning but he was gone. Had they lost this chance to bring to justice the men who viewed others as disposable, not seeing them as human beings but something to be used and discarded like trash? He hoped not.

His eyes turned back to his partner's face, white and pale, and knew that this was not the time to ask what had happened. Instead he prayed that the life he could still feel pulsing under his hands would stay strong.

Charles had spent the morning on the telephone at the infirmary, confirming with William Thatcher all the arrangements that were needed to bring Elizabeth to Hamilton. Two nurses would be arriving on the train from Union City tomorrow and they would accompany them on the journey back to the Thatcher home where a specially prepared wing was waiting. Experts were being brought over from England at the instigation of Viola's husband Lionel, known to his family because of the help they had given his aunt who suffered a similar affliction to Elizabeth after losing her husband in the Boer War. The poor woman never spoke to any of them after a second tragic loss beset her, the death of her youngest child, until her death a few years ago.

As he climbed the steps to her row house feelings of regret overcame him. There were so many things he could have done differently. Perhaps if he had voiced his opinion more strongly that she needed treatment or stepped up and disagreed with the consensus that said she should be left here to live as normal a life as was possible, still able to see her son each week. That her husband had the final say had infuriated Charles, knowing how little the man actually cared for Elizabeth and that his only interest was in retaining some control within the Thatcher family.

Knocking firmly on the door he nervously opened it when a voice called out "Come In". Elizabeth was seated on the sofa, looking almost normal, except her eyes, where an emptiness was reflected in their black depths. He could see that some effort had been made to do her hair and the clothes that had been chosen, presumably by Minnie, were simple but elegant. Even so, there was still an air of dishevelment about her, as though she no longer cared about how she presented herself to the world.

He greeted her warmly, not expecting to feel the response she gave when he placed his hand on hers. Minnie was washing dishes at the kitchen sink while Joseph sat in the chair opposite Elizabeth, his bible open in his hands, so Charles took the seat beside her making sure to not press too close in case this caused an adverse reaction.

He felt her eyes on him and then quietly she asked "Has Jack arrived back yet, Charles?" Her question took him by surprise and he wasn't sure how to respond. She was so calm, as though they were discussing the weather or what they were having for lunch.

"How do you know he is coming here?" he replied, hoping that her answer would give a clue to what state she was in.

"Why Nathan told me, of course. He tells me everything."

Looking closely at her he realised how difficult it was with Elizabeth to know when she was having a lucid moment, so tangled up was her mind that there was often an ambiguity to what she said.

"Did Nathan say where he has been?"

Elizabeth gave him a look that he remembered from their childhood, part amusement and part disdain, usually reserved for the times when he had done something very stupid in the way boys do when they have a crush on a girl.

"Of course not, silly. It is all very secret. I am going to need you to be here though when I tell Jack that I am in love with Nathan. Perhaps I can persuade him to be with that woman Nathan brought. You know, the one who is trying to be me by writing books and pretending that she is Allie's mother." She laughed suddenly, a cold sound that filled the room, "Doesn't she know that Allie wants me to be that!"

Joseph stood then, laying his bible on the side table and smiling at Elizabeth as he held out his hand. "Come with me, my dear. I think a walk outside would do us good, maybe just up and down the rowhouses a few times."

As the door closed behind them Minnie came across. Sitting down beside Charles she waited, watching him struggle with the inner turmoil that each visit with Elizabeth brought. Finally he looked at her. "Have all the arrangements been made?" she asked.

He nodded, the sickness in his stomach at what they were about to subject Elizabeth to was almost more than he could bear.

"You know you are doing the best thing you can for her, although it may not seem that way now. There is no greater way you can show her your love than to make sure she is safe and cared for."

He nodded again, unable to speak, so Minnie continued. "You must promise me that once she is settled you will get away from Hamilton, find happiness for yourself. You are a good man Charles Kensington and deserve to live your own life, not one that is always in her shadow."

Nathan looked up from his desk at the sound of the door opening, hoping that it was word from the infirmary that the surgery had been a success. Ned Yost came bustling through the door instead, in his hand a telegram. "This has just come in from Mountie Headquarters, Nathan. I thought I should bring it over to you immediately."

"Thank you, I appreciate that. Has there been any word from Mathew or Faith?"

Ned just shook his head, his expression showing how affected everyone was by such a thing happening to someone they knew. He told him that a few of the good people of Hope Valley had gathered to pray outside the infirmary and Florence had suggested a vigil at the church that evening if things had not improved.

Nathan had questioned whether to stay this morning but Faith had pushed him out, saying that the less people in attendance the better and with one of his men there and another investigating the stabbing he reluctantly left, knowing how drastically depleted his team now was. Aware that Gabe had called in local men to help him he wondered just how many he could trust here in Hope Valley. Perhaps it was time to find out.

So he had returned to his office to continue working through the statements taken from both Andrew Hargreaves and the warehouse manager, trying to put more of the puzzle together in the hope that it would shed light on the events of the morning.

At the same time there were jobs to be done. The wagon was being searched by Walter and Patrick. Whatever evidence they found should help them understand what was in the warehouse. Harold had undertaken the task of once again interrogating the manager, hoping that he would divulge the reason why they were all so reluctant to return there. He would follow that up with a talk with each of the wagon drivers, their involvement in the operation seemingly tenuous enough that they may be willing to talk in return for the freedom he was willing to offer.

Opening the telegram he was pleased to see it was the translation of the note taken from the dead Chinese man, although what it contained was still very cryptic. A list of names and dates, all Chinese people and presumably when they were born. Now knowing about the secret passageway at the rear of The Tipperary he guessed that these were people being smuggled through Hope Valley to other parts of Canada. Buy why did the man have this paper and why was he killed? Did it have a connection to the shipments and the money-laundering?

In Brookfield the search for Helen Bouchard was continuing. Gabe had his men move out in a wider arc, hoping that some indication of anywhere she had travelled through could be found. He had divided people up into teams, each covering a section on the grid he had marked on the map, with Jim Buchanan co-ordinating them all. At the same time, the protection around the orphanage was discreetly strengthened while he and Lilian stayed close to the house and, more importantly, the cottage.

At the hotel Abigail was seated in the dining room, pages with lists of names spread out on the table in front of her as she added more or made notes beside them. Someone must know where she is hiding, she whispered to herself, there was no way she could just vanish into thin air without help. The ring of the bell as the front door opened made her look up, annoyed at first to be disturbed from her thoughts and then surprised to see Tess Stewart walk in. "I thought you would be out at the ranch, Tess. With so many of your men involved in the search for the Bouchard woman you must be shorthanded there."

Tess nodded, as she pulled out a chair from the table beside Abigail and sat down. "That's just it. I was relying on Ronnie to step up to help me but he is nowhere to be found. In fact I haven't seen him since yesterday. Has he been here at all? Sometimes I swear he still thinks he owns this place the amount of time he spends in it. When he's not swanning about in Benson Hills, that is!"

As they neared Brookfield Rosemary was surprised at her ability to stay calm. She was glad that they had a dry and bright day for their journey, which was difficult enough without the added hardship of bad weather and there were times when she had to tell Lee to slow down, so anxious was he to get there.

"Do you think they will have found that horrible woman by now?" she asked. Lee wasn't confident but he didn't want to worry her further. "I'm sure Gabe has the situation well under control. The important thing is that we will be with the children. I don't care if we have to keep a protective circle close around until they are safe."

They had stopped briefly a few hours ago to have coffee and a piece of the pie she had packed, neither wanting to waste time but knowing that they needed to stretch their legs and get some food inside them. It seemed strange to Rosemary to be doing this journey under these circumstances. Brookfield was a special town to both her and Lee, the place where their dream of becoming parents was finally realised. Patrick had been such a blessing in their lives and it was the two young women at the orphanage who they had to thank for him.

Lilian and Grace were exceptional people. Orphaned at a young age and then separated from each other when Lilian was adopted but Grace wasn't, they had spent so many years apart. The determination to find her sister never left Lilian though and she spent a long time searching until finally they were back together again. It was their dream to start the orphanage in the home she had grown up in, wanting to give to children who had lost so much the love that Grace had missed for all those years.

As an only child Rosemary had never known what it was like to have those memories that come from shared experiences with a sibling. She often wondered what it would have been like to have a sister. To have special moments that only you knew, times spent laughing together because you understood each other better than anyone else ever could, the arguments when your opinions were different, then the making up when you realised that nothing was worth losing the bond you shared. Yes, there was something special about a sister that nothing, in life or death, would ever break. There was a part of your heart where they would always be with you.

It had made her loss of Elizabeth all the more difficult to accept, having finally found someone who gave her a sense of that closeness she never had before. But sadly there had been no coming back from the estrangement when Rosemary had pointed out to her friend just how much she had changed and what it was doing to those around her. It was as though Elizabeth was determined to alienate everyone who cared about her.

Then it became clear that she had suffered a breakdown, or worse, and it was even more difficult to provide her with the love and support that Rosemary so wanted to give. It was when she and Lee had been asked to take over the guardianship of Little Jack that they knew immediately it was the best way they could help their friend, to make sure that her son grew up in a loving environment.

Shaking herself from her thoughts she looked out of the window, realising that they were almost in Brookfield. She quietly prayed that there would be good news to greet them.

As Gabe hung up the telephone from speaking to Abigail he knew exactly how this would work. Turning to Lilian his expression was serious. "I want you to think of a job to do out in the cottage, something that could last a good few hours if necessary. Take Grace with you."

Believing in whatever plan her husband may have she nodded before asking, "I guess that you need to move the men away from here, so do we need to take some protection with us?"

"I won't leave you alone, one man will be in there with you. I'm not sure who though." He looked pensive for a moment before continuing. "If you had to choose someone you would trust with your life, who would it be?" He smiled at her then, in the way that always made her heart skip a beat. "Excluding me, of course."

Without hesitation Lilian replied, "Henry Gowan. Unless you need him for something else."

Gabe was not surprised she had chosen Henry. They had spoken often with Abigail about Henry's journey of redemption. In fact, the man himself was so honest about his past that it was impossible for anyone not to be inspired by how far he had come and how determined he was to use his experiences, good and bad, to benefit others. "I thought you might say that so I am not including him in my plans," he said as he picked up the phone to call the hotel and ask Henry to come.

He had realised that the only way to catch Helen Bouchard was to draw her out. It was obvious she believed that the children were at either the orphanage or the hotel. If he was a betting man he would say that Ronnie Stewart was the one helping her and, therefore, it would be easy for him to go to the hotel to find out. So she must be convinced that the orphanage was their hiding place. If it wasn't Ronnie then what he had planned would work as well.

"Will you be ok here if I head into town now? I will tell the men to follow me once Henry arrives but I need to call everyone in and set things in motion. I also want to ask for a few volunteers to go to Hope Valley. It was clear when I spoke to Nathan earlier that they are stretched there, especially after the stabbing. It must be terrible not to know which of the people around you can be trusted, so we must do everything we can to help."

Helen Bouchard wasn't sure if she pitied Ronnie Stewart or respected him at this moment. She knew he was a weak man, which is why he suited her purpose. Once he had sold the hotel in Brookfield he found himself at a loose end, living with his sister-in-law who was one of the strongest women he had met, at least that's how he spoke about her at the card tables in Benson Hills. She had taken over the running of the ranch when his brother died and proved herself to be more than capable.

He, however, had found himself with little to contribute and for the first time in his life he had money in the bank. So he sought out a new pastime, gambling. The problem was, he wasn't very good at it. One of the easiest people to manipulate, Helen was grateful to have an insider in the town of Brookfield, knowing that the Mountie here was one that stey couldn't buy or blackmail. Gabe Kinslow was as honest as Nathan Grant and just as determined.

So it had surprised her last night when Ronnie had shown that he had some backbone after all, refusing to do more than provide her with a place to hide out. Not that it was much. A falling down stone cottage, the front of it a pile of rocks that hid the few rooms still standing from any passing eyes. At least there was a way to get the car under the overgrown bushes to keep it from being seen.

His defiance when asked for information on the children was certainly unexpected, considering just how much she owned him, but he had stayed strong even when the methods for extracting the information had become extremely painful to him. Now she looked at the crumpled heap in the corner, his mouth gagged, hands and feet tied. His usefulness was over so there was no need to take him along. If what he said about this place being overlooked in the search was right then she doubted anyone would find him for quite some time, if at all.

She knew that the children were at the orphanage. When she had gone there last night it was with the expectation that she would come away empty handed but she needed to get a feel for the place and the people. She had taken her driver, another man who was in debt to her and therefore forced to do what she asked, while the other four men she had brought went to search the hotel. The bumbling idiots made such a mess of it that two were caught and the other pair had only escaped with minutes to spare.

At that moment there was a sound outside and climbing over the rock pile was one of them, having gone out a while ago to see what was happening with the search for her. "There was something going on at the hotel. All the men have been called in there for a meeting."

She had to think. Was this a ploy? A way to entrap her?

The man scrambled over the last of the rocks before continuing, "They think you must have managed to get through their blocks and are gone by now. I heard one of the Mounties say that it was time for all but a few of them to have some rest and then get back to their normal lives."

From up in the roof space Allie heard Miss Lilian and Miss Grace talking as they entered the cottage. She was about to call out when she realised from the footsteps that there was someone else with them. A man.

It had been a long morning, Patrick and Little Jack understandably getting more restless as the hours went by. She had tried to keep them entertained by reading and then with some card games and tricks after she remembered that there was a pack in the outside pocket of her bag.

Hearing the bolt close on the door she put her finger to her lips, indicating to the boys that they must stay quiet. There was silence downstairs for a moment then Lilian's voice called out. "It's safe Allie, you can undo the hatch."

Being brought up by a Mountie had instilled certain instincts in her, one of which was to not take a situation for granted if you weren't sure of all the facts. She knew someone else was there with them and so decided not to say anything until she could ascertain who it was.

"Did you hear me Allie? Is everything ok up there?"

Still she remained silent, giving the boys the best impression of her father's "death stare" she could muster to keep them quiet.

She could hear Aunt Grace say something to her sister and then Aunt Lilian spoke up a bit louder. "If you are wondering who is with us it is Mr Gowan."

At that Allie felt herself relax, then a familiar voice called up from below, "Yes it's me, Uncle Henry. I'm here to help look after you and the boys."

Scrambling across to the hatch she quickly undid the bolts and opened it, then dropped her head through the hole to look down. "I'm sorry, I was just being extra careful".

Outside two figures crept along the path at the back of the orphanage. Helen Bouchard had sent the other two men to intercept anyone who might head back this way from town, while she and her driver made their way here. The place appeared deserted, with no sign of movement through the windows of the main house. Had she been wrong? It almost seemed as though everyone had left. Then she noticed the curtains were drawn in the small cottage at the back and edging closer could hear voices inside. Although she couldn't make out what was being said it sounded like a young woman speaking.

Looking behind her she realised that her driver was nowhere in sight. The stupid man will pay for this, she thought. She reached into her purse for her gun, knowing that was the only way to get Little Jack handed over to her. It had to be done, this was her insurance against any retaliation from the mobsters for her son's failings and she was not about to lose everything she had worked so hard to achieve. If she could still deliver Thornton Shipping to them then all would be fine.

Moving around to the door she realised that they had made it easy for her, the blind pulled down meant that no-one could see her approach. One step at a time, she thought, trying to be as quiet as possible.

Suddenly she heard a movement behind her and turning came face to face with Gabe Kinslow and Jim Buchanan, both with guns pointed in her direction. Hiding her own pistol she quickly smiled at them.

"Hello again Constable Kinslow, I was just trying to see if there was someone here as the main house seems to be empty. I thought we could talk some more."

Gabe nodded for Jim to move around to her side before he replied. "I don't think that is the reason you are here Mrs Bouchard. Why don't you make this easier for yourself and hand over your weapon. Then we can go down to the Mountie Office for that talk".

At that moment a car could be heard pulling up at the front of the orphanage, enough of a distraction to give Helen Bouchard time to raise her gun towards Gabe. His reaction was fast, knocking it out of her hand as Jim grabbed the woman by the arms and held her firmly.

As Gabe explained to everyone inside the cottage what had happened and that the other three of her men had been caught trying to flee town, Jim had her handcuffed before being walked down the pathway. Around the side of the house Rosemary and Lee ran, having heard the commotion at the back. A smile came over both their faces at the sight of Helen Bouchard in handcuffs as they waited for the others to approach them.

Their delight quickly turned to anger at the realisation that even now Helen Bouchard did not look sorry, an expression of smugness on her face as though she expected to get away with it.

Lee stepped closer, making eye contact with the woman. He paused as if struggling within himself before speaking. "If my mother hadn't raised me to be a gentleman there is nothing I would take greater pleasure in doing right now than punching you in the face," he almost spat at her.

He heard a sound behind and then his wife stepped around him. "Well, my mother didn't raise me to be a gentleman and I never intend to be one!" she declared as her left fist connected with Helen Bouchard's face.