His body having long been trained to wake up at his customary hour, William felt as though he'd been run over by a carriage the following morning. While he'd managed to sleep only a few hours, his exhaustion had insured that what little sleep he'd had was at least solid.
Extracting himself from Julia's embrace without waking her up, William got out of bed and got ready for what would undoubtedly be a long day in front of him. Despite performing his familiar routine, his body protested the simple movements, having been pushed further sexually last night than he had ever gone before.
The marathon lovemaking sessions of last night hadn't been seen since their eventful honeymoon in New York City where he and Julia had locked themselves in the honeymoon suite (finally) and literally did nothing but sleep, make love, and occasionally eat. Never before (not even their wedding night) had William let his reserve down and abandoned himself to the darkest desires of his mind. Never before last night had they ever been so intense and animalistic with one another, and William wondered if it was going to be a one-time thing, or if she'd allow him to be so primeval again.
He hoped so, because he felt strangely alive and energized in a way he had never experienced before. Despite the discomfort of the deep gouges in his back, William decided that he quite liked them, as they made a nice souvenir of last night's events. Looking back at his wife's nude body still snuggly tucked into bed, William decided against waking her, but didn't want to leave her without saying something after one of the most emotionally intense nights of his life. He opted for a brief note and flower from one of the bouquets in the parlor, and laid them on his pillow where she'd be sure to see them when she awoke.
Grabbing his coat and hat, he quietly slipped outside the suite and decided to grab a quick breakfast at the restaurant near the station house. The sooner he figured out what was off about George's case, the sooner the truth would be known.
And if anyone was a slave to the truth, it was he. For better, or for worse.
Much later that morning, he sat at his desk, examining the evidence and crime scene photos for George's case. He didn't have a theory so much right now as he did a hunch, and he was waiting for the articles to speak to him, to reveal the truth as they often did.
Lost in contemplation, he didn't hear the Inspector come in some time later, who also regarded the photos and objects with a skeptical eye.
Startled at the man's sudden appearance, William snapped out of his reverie.
"I'm sorry sir, did you say something?"
"Some things never change, do they Murdoch?" he replied with a snort.
Brief smiles crossed their eyes for a few seconds before the tenor of the situation reasserted itself, and both men became serious again.
"I don't know what precisely, but something isn't adding up, sir. The whole thing just seems off, but I can't quite put my finger on it right now." William explained.
"Have you tried speaking with him again?" Brackenreid asked.
William nodded, "Yes, sir. I tried about an hour ago, but he wouldn't even look at me, just turned his back and refused to make eye contact or respond to my pleas. There's something he's not being straightforward about, and I need to know what he's hiding. I suspect he's covering up for Edna or Simon, taking the fall as it were. Jackson said they were called over to a domestic disturbance at her house a day before Sgt. Brooks was killed. Perhaps one of them killed him, and George is protecting them."
"What makes you think this? Has it occurred to you that as unthinkable as it is, maybe Crabtree did knock off Brooks?" Brackenreid asked.
"Sir, George has been an indispensable assistant to me for years. He's seen firsthand how people have been incriminated and caught as well as how people have managed to evade justice. He's also been a good detective in his own right for quite a while sir, and I just can't help but think that George would know how not to be caught, or at least caught so easily. Leaving his police issue boots covered in blood where we could easily find them along with a bloodtrail? Leaving the murder weapon where it could be easily found? It makes no sense! Plus, while we know he won't say anything to exonerate himself, perhaps he isn't saying anything so that he doesn't remove himself from suspicion, thus shifting it to someone else he's trying to protect," said William.
"As much as I dislike saying this, what if Crabtree is choosing the best option? What if Mrs. Brooks or the boy did it, and to him this is the lesser of evils? Will we truly be doing Crabtree any favors if we exonerate him just to implicate one of them? Think about your past situations, and imagine if the tables were turned: What if Dr. Ogden had been knocked around by Garland and she offed him in self-defense? Would you have truly, willingly allowed her to go through a trial?" Brackenreid asked.
William paled at the memory, and clenched his fists in anger. "Sir…need I remind you that Julia was tried for the murder of her husband, and was erroneously found guilty?"
Brackenreid laughed. "And how well did you handle that? Damn near got yourself killed and took us down with you. I know you want the truth, and so do I for that matter, but be careful where you tread. Know that George has his reasons for doing what he did, much like you did."
Murdoch stared at the man, anger clear in his eyes before sighing and turning to look out the window.
Point made, Brackenreid relented. "Look, Murdoch, before I've given you a hard time about your inability to just let things be and accept them at face value, but this time, I want you to be a bulldog. Don't let go, me old mucker. Get to the bottom of this, but tread carefully, if you know what I mean. Respect what Crabtree's trying to do."
"I will do my absolute best, sir. I…I just wish George would speak with me, tell me what's really going on. At least it would give me something to go on. Right now, I have nothing," William admitted.
"If anyone's going to get to the bottom of this, you will, Murdoch. You find Mrs. Brooks and the boy-they're the key to cracking this thing wide open, and no doubt Crabtree's hidden them well. In the meantime, I'm going to call my contacts in the army-something seems off about Sgt. Brooks' resurrection from the dead after a year of no contact with his loved ones. If I'd been him, I would have been sending letters, telegrams, smoke signals, you name it to get word to my family. Just the other day you were endangered for less than 10 minutes and you made it a priority to let your wife know that you were safe after all was said and done. Why didn't Brooks do something similar?" Brackenreid wondered.
William nodded in agreement. "I concur," he trailed off as he saw Julia standing in the doorway.
Following the younger man's gaze, Brackenreid smirked. "I'll let you two get on with it," he laughed. "See if Dr. Ogden will assist you. She might be able to use her womanly intuition and psychiatric skills to gain insight on this mess and get into some places that a man or a cop can't. That is, presuming you'll still allow her to," he cheekily added as he left before Julia could turn her fury upon him. He was adept at handling his own firebrand of a wife, but when it came to Dr. Ogden, Murdoch knew best.
Staring at the Inspector's back as he left, Julia shook her head. There had been a time when she would have come undone at such a comment, but now she could let it go and merely shook her head.
"I came to see how you were doing this morning, and wondered if I might be able to spirit you away for an early lunch where we could discuss George's case. I keep thinking back to what he said last night as well as his behavior, and something's not adding up, William. In fact, it's hardly a confession at all, and I think…" Julia began before she was interrupted.
"I know. That's just what the Inspector and I were just talking about. We're going to look into this further, Julia. I'm not accepting anything at face value." William finished.
Julia shook her head. "You mean we're not accepting anything at face value. I've made arrangements to go into the asylum and complete my rounds early each morning so that I'm free to help you with the investigation the rest of the day for as long as it takes. I won't take no for an answer, and besides, even the Inspector thinks I'll be of assistance to you."
William had to concede she had a point, and he was just relieved that she wasn't too upset at him for being too rough last night as well abruptly leaving this morning. As much as he had enjoyed loving her with complete abandon, a part of him feared that his dark side had frightened her.
"Besides, you're already in hot water for leaving without saying goodbye this morning. After what we shared last night, you don't think that I really would have wanted to wake up in my husband's arms? Maybe even needed it?" Julia asked.
"Julia, I didn't want to wake you, you looked so peaceful, plus, you needed the rest-I know I would have welcomed it."
"I know, William. You were also eager to get in and reexamine the evidence, and I think you were also a little afraid to face me this morning. I believe that you're worried that you may have frightened me last night," Julia continued.
William smiled, and blushed before looking down at the floor. As usual, she could read his mind even better than he could at times.
"William, we've talked about this. You needn't be ashamed of your sexual desires; they're a natural part of being human. Besides, I've been waiting for you to drop all of your reservations and truly let go for months now. I knew that somewhere inside was a man dying to abandon all restraint in love, and last night, I finally got to meet him," Julia reassured him.
"The darker places of my mind don't frighten you? Truly? Some of my desires are less than honorable, but you must know that I would never hurt you."
"I know you'd never hurt me, and those "dark" places as you call them don't frighten me-they intrigue me. They're a part of you, and I love all of you. Last night was amazing, and was exactly what I needed, but perhaps we don't always have to be so violent with one another?" she asked.
Laughing softly, he took her in his arms and just enjoyed the sublime sensation of simply holding her. Kissing her nose, he released her and gathering their things, they went off to lunch.
At lunch, they laid out the facts as they knew them: Sgt. Brooks had unexpectedly returned from the dead, he'd later roughed up Edna according to the police reports, and then his body had appeared in the morgue. George Crabtree was too obvious a suspect, and Edna Brooks and Simon were nowhere to be found. If George had killed Archibald Brooks in retaliation, why had Edna and Simon fled? If they were truly innocent, there would have been no need to escape, and that was only one of the things that had bothered Murdoch. That, and perhaps the biggest problem: William truly believed that George Crabtree was no killer. He knew George must have been heartbroken over the sudden "loss" of his fiancée, and was undoubtedly devastated, but William couldn't see how George would have resorted to murder. He'd known and worked with him for years and this was the man who had once been upset that dogs were being used for medical experiments. William couldn't fathom how that same man could make the leap to murder.
He said as much to Julia, and she agreed. After lunch they'd gone to the purported crime scene, which also happened to be the Brooks' apartment. While the apartment appeared to be in a state of disarray, making it appear as though a violent struggle had occurred, it seemed off to William. Other than a few upended chairs, it didn't seem that off-kilter, and considering a murder had purportedly taken place here, William thought that quite interesting.
As Julia went back to the bedroom to note anything of interest, Murdoch stared at the bloodstain on the floor. Though George's boot track was still clearly evident, there was something a bit strange about the bloodstain. He had a hunch, but he always welcomed the expert medical opinion of his wife.
"Julia! Can you come here please?"
"Coming, William," she called from the bedroom and soon, she was crouching next to him, looking at the bloodstain.
"Is this all? Given Sgt. Brooks' multiple wounds, I would have expected far more blood and blood spatter than this," she pronounced, looking around to see if there was an as of yet undiscovered blood spatter scene. She found none.
She continued. "It's too neat, it's as though someone poured blood from a container and stepped in it to give the impression that this was a crime scene."
"It's strange, isn't it?" he asked her.
Nodding, she placed her hand on his arm. "William, I searched the bedroom, Edna and Simon left in quite a hurry; they must have packed only the barest of essentials. They must have been fleeing for their lives, or they weren't planning on being gone long. Unlike the parlor, nothing in the bedrooms seems to have been disturbed. Nothing's out of place. Unlike this room, which seems staged, and I don't think that this is our crime scene. In fact, I'd be interested to know if this blood is even human," she added.
"So would I, Julia," he replied, pinching the bridge of his nose, feeling a massive headache coming on. The emotional events of the last day, his prolonged exertions with Julia the previous night, lack of sleep, combined with the feeling that he was about to kick a hornet's nest were all taking a toll on him. Removing his handkerchief, he took a sample of the bloodstain to take to Dr. Grace for testing.
Standing back up to full height, he took Julia's arm and locked the apartment up behind him. He needed to find if Mrs. Brooks or the boy had any relatives locally that might have knowledge of their whereabouts. He hoped George hadn't hidden them too well, and he hoped to learn something to use as leverage to make George talk soon. He wanted to help his friend, but he also had to know the truth. He hoped that he could handle it, and that he wouldn't regret not leaving things alone as Isaac Tash had once warned him so long ago.
Back at the station, he drew the shades of his office, and led Julia to the corner of his office where a comfortable reclining chair he occasionally slept in was placed. Sitting down, he pulled Julia into his lap and pushed the chair into the reclining position, quickly closing his eyes. He hoped a quick nap would help him function again. There was so much to do, and he couldn't think straight enough to decide what his next step should be.