Thunderstorms – Continued
Chapter 5: Wednesday, August 6, 1913
In the wee hours of the morning, Julia finally drifted off to sleep after using every ounce of daylight to read the newspaper articles William had brought for her. She was troubled by a photo of William in which he seemed to be under a shouting attack from anti-contraception protesters, cringing as she thought of William having to undergo such treatment. Further, a man in the photograph looked disturbingly familiar, sending a chill down her spine. By the time the last pink hue had faded, it was nearly 10:00 according to her gift – her watchlet.
Her dreams mixed memories and fears. In the first, she was at her prison cell window, the pleasant breeze cooling her skin and clearing her wayward curls from her face. "William might be disappointed," she thought, "there is no moon tonight, too cloudy, and no storms either." As if on cue, she heard the rumble of thunder from storms far off. However, rather than feeling the anticipated excitement and awe, she felt dread. Instantly she was relocated – She found herself at the top of a maple tree, and the voice of the one man she loved most in the world was talking to her from atop another tree. He was saying that even though there was thunder, it was probably safe to remain in the trees for a while longer. A startling crash exploded nearby and then she was suddenly in her prison bed. She had sat up, scared. William was missing. As a flash of lightning brightened the cell she saw a man's arm ominously reaching up from under the bed to grab her. Bang, and another flash revealed the menacing man from the photograph moving towards her, hands opened, claws readying for attack. Then William jumped the malicious man from behind. William fought him off, the man running to avoid capture. With only a glance to her before his attention was drawn to the footprints on the floor, William took off in pursuit. Julia ran after him, only to be blocked by the prison cell bars. It was her screaming for someone to help, for someone to follow and to help William that had awakened her. Uneasiness and worry nearly drowning her, her head spinning, heart pounding, she gasped and struggled to find the moment, to reassure herself that it was just a dream and that everything was alright.
Soon after the first, another dream took form. Once again she stood looking out of the prison cell window – but this time it was many years earlier and she was soon to be hung. Meyers came to visit her. He told her that William was missing. She worriedly said, "He must be in trouble. That's why he didn't come." Meyers began reading something to her. She recognized it as the letter Caroline Hill had written to William about what her father had thought of their relationship, but now it was written to her. Meyers read, "Your father never believed you had killed your husband. He had a friend who brought him transcripts from the trial. He cried many tears reading them. His only hope was that your faith in William was warranted, and that he would save you from the noose. A friend of Chief Inspector Giles put him in touch with Giles. Giles told him about the trap set for William, about the tape Gillies had made, and the choices William had made to procure it to prove your innocence. He would want you to know that he wished for nothing more than for you to marry and live the rest of your life with William." Meyers folded up the letter and said, "If Murdoch is dead, I want you to know that I care for you deeply Julia. I will be here to comfort you if you will have me." Julia sobbed and pushed him away. She apologized but she knew she would never get over losing William, she would always be inconsolable.
This time Julia awakened flooded with grief. She quickly recognized that it was just a dream, a dream with a common theme – the death of William. Her mind flashed to the image from last night – him squatted over some footprints in the visiting room and her pulling his attention to her. He looked so beautiful, and so in love with her. Tears rapidly streamed down her face. She knew she was holding her breath, doing so to minimize the pain. Giving in to the need to breathe, she raggedly inhaled, then felt the cinders of pain brighten and intensify when she released the warm air and it moved over her aching heart as she exhaled. The hurt triggered anger. She punched her pillow, then roughly rolled over. She did not want to get stuck once again in this helpless dread and pain. She tried to calm herself, imagined William lying next to her. His voice in her ear, "We have made a life together. We have children now… They will love you even if I am gone. And you will love them." She saw herself and their three children sitting at the table, eating, talking – going on without him. Tucking the pillow in her arms, she noticed her sigh did not hurt as much.
Back at their house, William had fallen asleep on the bench on their porch. He had been looking at the sky at the same time as Julia and had also heard the thunderstorms off in the distance. He remembered being with Julia up in the trees at the lake-house and thinking it was safe until lightning hit close by. Now, in his dream, she was blown out of tree – but he couldn't find her anywhere. On the ground where she should have been he found the watchlet he had made for her. It had stopped. He took out his pocket watch and saw that it had stopped too. An inner voice said, "The one without the other can make time stand still." William woke up with a twitch as his arm tried to move to shade his eyes as he looked to see if even the Sun had stopped moving in the sky with his loss of Julia. Realizing he had fallen asleep, and that once again he had dreamed of losing her, he sighed and went inside to sleep on the couch.
From the couch, he heard it so faintly at first, far off, weak, and tiny. But, as the volume grew and he searched, moving in the direction in which the calls were beckoning from, he came to recognize them as William Jr., Katie, and Chelsea's cries. "Daddy! Help Us. Over here Daddy," they called. Then he saw them, miniaturized and trapped within an hourglass – the sands of time flowing down from the top of the hourglass to slowly smother them. They pounded on the glass walls and screamed for his help. The hourglass rested at the foot of a grave. He was in a cemetery.
William rushed towards them, but he was quickly restrained by a hand that reached out of the earth and grabbed his ankle. As he fought to free himself and continue on, he saw hundreds of hands rising out of the earth ahead of him. Horror and grief filled him, weighing him down, impeding his progress, as he recognized some of them as people who had been killed in his cases, others he knew more personally. There was Liza's hand, white and smooth with the sleeve of her red dress and the engagement ring he had given her, and his sister Susana's stronger arm, hand adorned with a nun's wedding band and the black sleeve of a Reverend Mother's frock. Further ahead, he saw the hand of his mother, soaked and pale from being dead in the water, two small rings from his father on her ring finger. Terror nearly paralyzed him, but still he heard the calls of their children. With all his strength he leaned forward, rushed on. Each hand grabbed a hold of him, pulled against him to hold him back, but he still advanced. Only when he was mere inches away from the hourglass with the children, did the hand of his mother stop him. He begged as he stretched his arm out and reached for the hourglass to save them, as they were now nearly completely buried in the sand.
Then, Julia's hand reached up from within her grave – her engagement and wedding rings sparkling in the twilight. Her hand lifted the hourglass and reached it towards him. He grabbed a hold of the end of it. He heard Julia's voice exclaim, as she kept a firm hold on her end of the hourglass, "Pull! Fight with all your might to break it open William," and he did so, aided by the force of his mother's arm pulling with him as well. The bottom of the hourglass broke off and the children along with the sand spilled out onto the ground. They breathed in the air and it filled them up, bringing them to their regular size.
The children surrounded him with hugs and kisses and tears of joy rolled down his face. Suddenly he heard Katie's voice shriek, "Mommy! Mommy!" and William turned to see the little girl on her knees at Julia's grave, digging frantically, dark earth flying everywhere. "We have to get her out! …Mommy!" she hollered. He rushed to her and scooped the small child up into his arms. She pummeled his chest, kicked and scratched and wriggled to get free. "Mommy! … Daddy, we have to get her out. Mommy!" she cried.
William held the child securely and dropped to his knees. He called for William Jr. and Chelsea, "Help me hold her, and they wrapped their arms tightly around their father and their sister. Softly, soothingly, calmly he said in her ear, "We can't save her Katie. Mommy is dead, honey."
"No Daddy," she quietly said, before sobs overtook her.
The sound of Eloise closing the front door as she came in brought him out of the dream. Tears running down his face, William awakened with the feeling that time was running out, that it was later than it seemed. Filled with uneasiness and a sense of foreboding, he rose for the day.
Over breakfast, William Jr. pleaded, "Please Dad, It's a girl's story. I don't want to go see Cinderella. It's bad enough that I have to listen to the story when it's our family bed-time book."
Addressing her older brother, Katie said, "But we went to your swimming lesson when we didn't want to – when Dr. Tash took us."
"Yeah," Chelsea added.
"But at least you like to go swimming. I will not like watching a play about Cinderella!" he insisted.
All eyes turned to their father. William put his fork down and took a sip of tea, stalling to think. "William Jr.," he said, "Unfortunately, I believe you will have to go. I gave Claire-Marie the afternoon off because I planned on all of you being with Mrs. Brackenreid. With your mother not here, she has been working extra-hard, and now I can't ask her to work this afternoon. I'm sor…"
Interrupting, William Jr. said, "But, why can't I stay home alone? I'm old enough now."
William shook his head, "No son, I'm sorry, but your mother and I have talked about this. Not yet."
Having been listening to the conversation thus far, Eloise decided to take pity on the boy, "I'm so sorry to interrupt detective," she said, turning to face them from the sink, "I can take responsibility for William Jr. today if you would like. We can call over to see if he can play at Charlie's house, and if not, then he can accompany to the market later."
William looked at his son. With a smile on his face, the boy asked, "Please Dad?"
William looked back at Eloise and thanked her. William Jr. got up from his seat and rushed over to give Eloise a 'thank you' hug, which she warmly accepted.
"Alright, it's settled then. You girls please be good for Mrs. Brackenreid – No fighting. He leaned forward in his chair to intensify his words and explained, "Look at me please. This is what I expect from each of you; if you start to disagree over something, the very moment one of you remembers that you promised to try not to fight, I expect you to remind the other. And then both of you stop – End of story. You can work out the disagreement when you get home. Agreed?" Both girls nodded.
"Good," their father said, "Now, I'm off to work. Thanks again Eloise."
For eight in the morning, it was amazing how hot it was. Parking his bicycle at the station, William was already sweating. He picked up his messages and then went into his office to re-organize his blackboard. First, there was the death of Flate (an inventor/thief of weapons plans), followed by the death of a tall man dressed as a laborer found at the University. Also, a man with an Irish accent and a scar, believed to have the given name Connor who also deals in weapons, seems connected to these two. It is likely the three men are linked by the weapons connection (for Flate and Connor) and the black ink on the bottoms of their shoes (Flate, the man at University, and possibly Connor at the prison visiting room), and the cotton fibers on their clothing (Flate and man at University). Murdoch wrote "Textile Factory and Weapons?" next to each of the three men's names. Murdoch wrote 'USA' and Aasen next to Flate's name. Next to Connor's name he wrote "Our Lady of Sorrows Catholic Church," "docks," and "Jane," then "shoeprints Women's Visiting Room Don Jail?" He drew a line from Jane's name and wrote "Clegg," "USA spy," and "relationship/Connor – beaten /injured." The detective stepped back and stared at the board.
He was bothered by the shoeprints in the Don Jail Women's Visiting Room. He sighed, "Most likely this man Connor's," he thought. "George," he called.
"Yes sir," George said chipperly, leaning in at the door.
Murdoch handed him the list he had gotten from the guard at the prison and asked him to try to determine who these visitors are, and who they visited – "Particularly the ones with the first name initial of "C," but don't bother with "C. Murdoch," that's Chelsea, and she visited Julia."
"Right away sir," George replied and turned to go, but hesitated. "If you don't mind my asking sir, has the good news about the shortened sentence helped the children's morale?"
"Yes, quite George," he replied. Then he sighed, "Only 34 days to go," he said with a wrinkle of his mouth suggesting that waiting still hurt.
George nodded, "Good sir," he said, "I'll get right on this."
The detective lifted another list from his desk, "Oh, and George … Oh, never mind, I still need to do something with this before this step is ready to pass on to you," he said.
William sat at his desk. He planned on taking the photos of Jane and Connor to the local hospitals next, but decided to make copies of the photos and send a few constables to do the task, increasing efficiency. He went to the backroom to make the copies. He would also send constables with the photos of Flate, Jane and Connor to the textile factories on the list Higgins had compiled. He still did not have a photo of the man who was found dead at the University as he had not gone to Stationhouse #5 for the post-mortem results yet, so they would have to follow-up with that photo later.
A knock just outside the drawn curtain drew the detective's attention, "Murdoch," Brackenreid said, "My office right away." He hung the last photo to dry and went directly to the Inspector's office.
"I just received a call from Stationhouse #5. Brace yourself Murdoch … Reynolds was performing the autopsy and seems to have dropped dead," the Inspector stated.
Murdoch looked both surprised and concerned. He said, "Um, he had a bad heart…"
"No, that's not it Murdoch. His assistant is headed over here right now – But it seems Reynolds was poisoned… by the body!"
"What?" Murdoch asked, taking a seat.
The Inspector poured himself a drink. He sighed and then went on, "The assistant had explained that Reynolds called out for him, fell to the floor and then said, "Poison … Don't touch anything. Get out and get Dr. Ogden. The man did what he said. Ran over to the stationhouse. By the time the detective was able to get there, he opened the door and saw that Reynolds was dead."
"Did they go in?" Murdoch asked.
"No… No I don't think so," the Inspector answered. "They are treating it as your case, Murdoch… It was your body. I've called the Chief Inspector," he added.
"Good, sir," the detective responded as he stood. He walked to the door and said, "I have an assignment for some of the lads before they get here." He nodded and left. He sent a few constables out with the pictures of Jane and Connor to hospitals. They were to show the photos and ask if anyone came in for treatment, likely needing stitches, that looked like them. Another pair of constables took the photos of Flate, Jane and Connor to the textile factories on Higgins' list.
Later, in the Inspector's office, the Chief Inspector paced nervously as he spoke, "I'll put a call in to the Judge. We need Dr. Ogden released immediately – on parole, I guess."
William's heart was pounding in his chest, and there was a high pitched violin note buzzing in his head. He was excited – Julia would be freed, but he was terrified. "She will need to go work on the deadly body … No, bodies, now that Reynolds has died from the poison too," he figured.
Murdoch cleared his throat, drawing the men's attention, "We must assume the poison was planted intentionally. Someone wanted to kill the coroner. But …"
The Inspector continued his thought, "But the killer could have no way of knowing which coroner would have been called to do the post-mortem. The body was in Dr. Ogden's jurisdiction, but of course, being in prison, it could have been sent to any of the others."
"Yes," the Chief Inspector replied, still pacing. "Now, we also have to figure that the killer was not targeting Dr. Ogden because it is public knowledge that she is in prison."
The detective suggested that the killer may have assumed the same coroner would be called as performed the post-mortem on the earlier body – Flate. That would suggest that Kingsley from Stationhouse #3 was the intended victim. He planned to look into people with motives to harm Kingsley. Murdoch leaned forward and added, "Perhaps it is an attack on the Constabulary?" he asked, his face wrinkling at the corner of his mouth. "And could this be connected to this whole illegal weapons business?" he continued.
The Inspector suggested, "Maybe this … Connor character of Clegg's…" He stopped realizing the Chief Inspector had not been informed about the whole Meyers/Clegg case. They agreed to catch the Chief Inspector up on that case as well, even though they were not sure the two cases were connected. The Chief Inspector called the Judge, finding he was unavailable, so the Chief Inspector intended to go in person to argue for the release of Toronto's Chief Coroner due to this emergency. The Inspector and Murdoch filled the Chief Inspector in on the illegal weapons case and then he headed to the court.
William sat at his desk trying to think of all the ways poisons could kill you. It seemed unlikely that Reynolds ingested the poison. "It had to be through the air or physical contact with the skin," he thought. How could he let Julia go into such a dangerous situation, and yet he knew she would not hear of staying out of it. He rubbed his forehead, trying to ease the stress. Somewhere from deep in the back of his mind, he heard little Katie's mournful voice denying the death of her mother from his dream last night, "No Daddy." … He had to find a way to keep Julia safe – at least as safe as possible. He pictured sending her in wearing a deep-sea diver's suit, after all such suits keep the water around the diver out, and so they should keep the air around a person out as well. "With gloves somehow sealed tight to the sleeves, and rubber bootie-like shoes sealed tight around the bottoms of the rubber trousers, and some kind of a helmet or hood – and an oxygen tank so she wouldn't have to breathe the air in the morgue!" he thought, getting excited as he realized he could probably make a suit that would keep her safe from the hazardous materials she would encounter. Immediately he called the Royal Canadian Navy (created three years earlier in 1910). He would start with three of their suits – three because Julia would not be doing the work alone, and develop some of the other essentials from there.
After he called a Navy official and made arrangements for picking up some diver's suits later, Murdoch asked one of the constables about their success at the textile factories. No one recognized Flate, Jane or Connor as working or having dealings at their factory, but one manager said that Jane and, not so much the photo of Connor, but the description of a man with a scar, seemed familiar. They speculated that perhaps they were living near this particular textile factory – on, or near, the southern end of Bowling Avenue.
The detective rubbed his forehead again and said, "I didn't think there were any residences that far down on Bowling? Look into it please... How did it go at the hospitals – Did anyone recognize Jane or Connor?" The constable reported that none of the people at the hospitals remembered anyone with those descriptions getting t treated for lacerations or abrasions requiring stitches, but many of the nurses suggested coming back later. Different people work the late shift and perhaps Jane and Connor came in later. Murdoch remembered that it was later in the afternoon when he encountered Jane and, now he believed, Connor… And it seemed likely that Jane incurred her injuries after he was knocked unconscious. He sighed. He would need to go himself later. Perhaps he could go home for dinner, share the good news about Julia coming home sooner, and then ask Claire-Marie if she could stay and put the children to bed. If not then perhaps Eloise could stay with them until he could get home to put the children to bed. For now, he would head over to the Navy official who was helping him with his Hazardous Materials Suits.
Elsewhere, Margaret had taken the two Murdoch girls out to lunch after the Cinderella play. They had a lively conversation, as both little girls were very outgoing and talkative. Margaret asked them what William Jr. would be doing instead of coming with them.
After the girls explained, Chelsea said that he probably wished he could have gone swimming, "William Jr. loves swimming. He has a swimming competition soon."
Katie added, "He gets his good swimming from our mother. Mommy is a great swimmer – if not, Daddy would be dead." Margaret gave Katie a surprised look and she explained that, a long time ago, their mother had swum into the bottom of a sinking boat to save him.
"So your Mommy saved your Daddy's life. I thought it was your Daddy who was always saving your Mommy," Margaret asked.
Katie thought for a moment and said, "Well Daddy has saved Mommy many times, but Mommy saves Daddy sometimes too – Like she's a great doctor, and she has to fix him sometimes."
Chelsea excitedly added, "And Mommy and Daddy love each other sooo much – Just like Cinderella and Prince Charming!"
Margaret felt an urge to be nosy, and decided to give in to it. "Oh my, they love each other that much?!" she exclaimed, leaning forward in her chair, "Do they ever have fights?"
Katie answered, "Yes Daddy has to sleep on the couch." Margaret chuckled inside. "But Daddy is sleeping on the couch now, even when Mommy is not home… And Mommy said it's not because they are fighting. Mommy said Daddy is really sad and can't sleep without Mommy in the bed."
Chelsea asked, "Mrs. Backwenread …"
Katie corrected her, "Mrs. Brack-en-reid."
Chelsea tried again (she was only 5 years old), "Mrs. Brackenweed …"
"No," Katie said, "Mrs. Brack-en-read.
"No bother," Margaret insisted. "What are you trying to ask Chelsea?"
"Do you think Daddy is so sad because he can't kiss Mommy enough?" Chelsea finally got to ask.
"They do kiss aah- lot, all the time!" Katie added. "Daddy loves Mommy sooo much. He writes her lots of love notes, and brings her beautiful flowers all the time – and even sings the song he wrote for her BEFORE THEY EVEN MET!" Katie elaborated.
Margaret took another bite of her food, stalling before she answered Chelsea's question about why her Daddy was sad. In some ways she found herself feeling jealous. "Well not being able to … kiss your Mommy could make your Daddy sad…"
Katie went on, "Yes, and Daddy usually kisses Mommy a whole lot when they are in their bed. Mommy and Daddy need privacy time – like every morning when their door is closed and we have to knock. Sometimes they say "not yet" – when Daddy is kissing mommy a lot."
Margaret took a sip of her drink, finding she was dry-throated and turning slightly red.
Little Chelsea said, "William Jr. says it's when Daddy is putting his penis inside Mommy." Margaret's drink sprayed out of her mouth and gushed all over the table. Both girls stared at her, unsure whether to be frightened or not.
"Sorry, girls. Sorry," Margaret said, choking a little bit more, "I must have swallowed my drink wrong."
Katie seemed to decide everything was fine and said, "William Jr. can't be right. Daddy wouldn't do that to Mommy, I know it."
"Yeah," Chelsea agreed.
Margaret was crimson now. She changed the subject, "Which one of you girls would like to give our waitress her tip?" Unfortunately, this started a fight between the girls as they each wanted to be the one to give the waitress the tip. They argued back and forth until Katie remembered what their father had said about fighting and reminded Chelsea. They agreed that Mrs. Brackenreid should give the waitress the tip. By the time the Murdoch girls got home, they did not even remember the fight.
When William got back to the station with three diver's suits, oxygen masks, and helmets, in tow, the Inspector called him into his office. "Good news me old mucker, your wife will be released on parole tomorrow at 10:00 AM." He held his fist up in the air in celebration.
William smiled, but then said, "Well sir, it is not totally good news – She will also be placed in grave danger." His face betrayed his authentic concern.
"Of course Murdoch. That is true," the Inspector replied, now seeming to share his detective's concern.
William, releasing a big sigh through pursed lips, trying to handle the stress he felt, added, "I do have an idea that I think will help to keep her… them … us… whoever actually goes into the morgue, safer. I am making Hazardous Materials Suits," he proclaimed proudly. "There are some problems though – Like the weight of the oxygen tanks and the helmet," he went on, reaching up to rub his forehead. "Um … Sir? I would very much like to go pick Julia up tomorrow … and um, have some time …"
The Inspector smiled, the love and devotion Murdoch showed to Dr. Ogden warming his heart. He quickly replied, "Of course Murdoch, of course… It should be quite a … hearty reunion I suspect," he said with an elbow into Murdoch's arm and a click of his tongue. "The Chief Inspector has called a meeting with her in my office – Um, I think we are going to want to include Meyers and Clegg as well, tomorrow at 2:00…so, you'll both have to be here by then."
Murdoch nodded, "Thank you sir."
Stopping by George's desk, the detective asked how it went with the list of names of people visiting the prison. The list did not indicate which prisoner each person had visited and George had not been able to obtain that information. The detective was annoyed. "A prison guard's mistake is definitely going to hinder my investigation," he thought, "Actually, I'll have to investigate this guard – Perhaps he had intentionally hidden someone's identity." William called the Warden to bring the guard's mistake to his attention and inquired about the loyalty of the guard. The Warden vouched for the guard's integrity so Murdoch suggested that the guards may need reminder of correct protocol. The Warden indicated that they are more lax with the women. Even when some of the first names were able to be obtained for the first initials of people on the list, there were many dead ends – possibly because the individuals could have used false names, or perhaps they were shady characters so by nature they were good at hiding.
Murdoch asked the Warden if Julia had been informed about the release on parole tomorrow. The Warden informed him that she had. He asked if the Warden would be willing to get a note and some chocolates to her from him if he sent a constable with them, and he agreed. Murdoch thanked him for his help and told him he would likely see him tomorrow as he was picking his wife up there. He warned the Warden that he expected a lot of press and protestors to also be there. The Warden said he was ready for them – That there would be a line behind which they had to stay. They bid each other good-day.
During visiting hours at the Don Jail, Cecily McKinnon sat meeting with a man. "So Sean, why are you here? Where is Connor?" McKinnon asked, sounding annoyed.
The young handsome man, also with an Irish accent, wiggled in his chair uncomfortably and said, "He did not want to take a chance. It seems the constabulary, as directed by this detective Murdoch, is looking for a man with his description… He said it was safer to send me."
McKinnon gritted her teeth and seemed to fight to sound calm. She went on, "Well, now that that imbecile Isabel has gone and alerted the constabulary to the danger …" She shook her head in disbelief, "The absolute stupidity and incompetence. I told Connor to tell her to be READY to go – not TO GO!" McKinnon pushed back into her chair and took a deep breath, trying to regain her composure.
"Connor thinks they still don't know Ogden was the intended victim – as she was still in prison… That's good, right?" Sean asked.
McKinnon sighed, "Yes, little brother, that is the only good thing about her mistake. There is a rumor in here that Ogden will be released tomorrow to deal with the … mess in the morgue. Perhaps she'll end up dying anyway. If not, then Isabel will have to try again. And she still needs to kill Murdoch."
Sean nodded. "As to that, she says she needs another body – That she has a particular one in mind, but it won't be for a few days yet."
McKinnon sighed and said, "She has a few days… Now, is the dirigible ready for Brackenreid? – I want that done Saturday night." Sean nodded again. "And how are the negotiations going with the Russians…"
Meanwhile, in his office, William turned his attention to working on the Hazardous Materials Suits. The first problem was the massive weight of the helmet for the suit – "Too heavy for Julia to bear for very long, if at all," he figured. He decided to make hood like helmets out of wax-lined canvas bags, using safety goggles over the holes for the eyes. George served as the guinea pig, walking around and maneuvering objects while wearing the suit at each stage of development. William felt quite accomplished, having completed all three suits by the time he needed to head home for dinner. Fortunately, Claire-Marie was able to cover for the evening, as he still planned on visiting hospitals later. He hurried out to buy the chocolates for Julia, wrote her a note, and sent a constable to the prison to deliver them. Then he rode his bicycle home.
William couldn't help but think about the fact that by the same time tomorrow, Julia would be by his side. Despite all his fears and worries, his anticipation and excitement about being with her so soon seemed to render his heart nearly bursting with joy. Memories of the last time he saw her flowed through his mind, with merely the thoughts of pinning her to the wall and touching her so lustfully while being just out of sight of the guard brought about quite a rise in him. He imagined standing next to her in the Inspector's office tomorrow, Chief Inspector, Meyers and Clegg in attendance, and him fighting to contain his urge to jump on his wife, to kiss her, touch her, make love to her, as his desires felt nearly uncontainable. "I will have to find a way … I know! I'll book a room at the Windsor House Hotel for before the meeting!" he thought.
The children, as well as Eloise and Claire-Marie, were ecstatic over the news that Julia would be home tomorrow. The talk was hurried and happy, with many a plan in the making. They would make a banner welcoming her home. Each child wanted to make a special sign and a card for her too. Eloise would make her favorite dinner, and desert. William promised to bring home lots of flowers later tonight to help with the decorations, after he went to the hospitals for the investigation. He also called and booked the hotel room once he had a moment to himself. Informing them all that he hoped to be home before the children's bedtime, he headed out with the photos of Jane and Connor.
In the Don Jail lunchroom, Julia sat eating with three other women. As usual, Countess Fausta was doing most of the talking. "So doctor, it seems that having a silver spoon up your 'arse' does have its advantages just as I thought, heh?"
Julia sighed. It would be difficult for someone in the Countess' position (put away for life because she procured an abortion), to understand that her early release (for teaching about contraceptives) – at least this most recent early release, was due to her expertise rather than being due to the influence of whom she knew. She cleared her throat and tried to explain, again, "Countess, with all due respect, I must insist that you consider that it is merely due to the fact that as Toronto's Chief Coroner, and most experienced physician, I am needed to handle this … emergency. In actuality it is quite dangerous – life threatening even."
The youngest woman amongst them, the one who had fought alongside of Julia when Tipton and another inmate had tried to stab her, touched Julia's arm and said, "You will be careful, won't you?"
"Well, I'll certainly try. I will have the advantage of knowing there is poison present, the coroner who first handled this body did not have the opportunity to know that…" Julia explained.
The door swung open, taking everyone's attention. The Warden and a guard entered. The Warden had William's chocolates and his note for Julia. He said, "Sorry to interrupt ladies. Dr. Ogden, your husband sent this for you," handing Julia the box. Julia turned away from the group and opened the note as the Warden addressed the other women, "Have any of you been threatened by any of the other inmates as a result of your being pulled out to spend some time with Dr. Ogden?" All three dropped their heads – It was more dangerous to rat than to bear the brunt of McKinnon's anger and bullying. The Warden sighed and explained he was concerned and intended to post more guards, with the expectation that for the first week or so there would always be a guard watching out specifically for them.
While their conversation went on, Julia read William's note.
Julia,
Poets often write of feelings for their lover that are so strong, so overpowering, that they cannot live without her. That is not quite it, I now know, having been kept apart from you. It is that you don't live without her – I see now that the quality of my life without you is so changed that, in many ways, it is not really living at all. Something happens to time – Almost as if it freezes, and yet life goes on. I care for the children. I work. But, when I am with myself, I find that I am stuck, numb, troubled. I find breathing difficult, and not in that heavenly way that happens when I am with you, like when our eyes meet and I know that in the whole world it is you who I am meant to be with. No, rather it feels as if the block of ice I am locked within binds my chest, grips my breath, forces me to wait until I can be with you again to breathe. I write this now, shallow is my breath, waiting for only a few hours for you to join with me again, until I will be set free of this halted stillness, this barrenness. Worry is there, under the surface, pounding my heart with fear, for your safety is not guaranteed once you're back with me. But, my need for you dwarfs the fear. I am overjoyed to know I will hold you tomorrow, my love. I will be there as they open the gate and set you free, free to be together once more, to re-start life, to have you by my side. Ten o'clock we begin again.
William
Warmth filled her heart, as expectation and hope eagerly flowed through her veins. She loved him so, and he her. Excitement tingled her skin, she could hardly wait. Pulled back into the room when the Warden bid her goodnight, she gasped, not having realized that she herself was also holding her breath with anticipation. "Goodnight sir," she replied. Julia turned in her seat, leaned towards her companions and placed the box of chocolates in the center of the table. "Let's celebrate!" she said. Keen grins covered their faces; she wouldn't have to ask them twice. "I so much want to thank each of you for your companionship. Please know you have made an awful situation bearable," she offered. Knowing the plight of each of these women, she made some promises. She would fight to change laws and get them reversibly freed. She would look into other suspects for the youngest woman who claimed to be innocent of the crime. She also said she would visit.
"The first hospital – That was lucky," thought William. He was in a carriage on his way home – early enough to share their family tradition of having a snack and then reading to children. "They are reading "Treasure Island" I believe," he remembered. His mind drifted to the clues he found left in the hospital bathroom by Jane. He wondered if she was scared – The nurse reported not only serious injuries to Jane, but a controlling, brutish behavior towards her from Connor. They did not use these names, but the photos and the description of Connor's scar provided enough for a positive identification. The only place she could get away from his oversight was in the ladies room. Under the toilet lid, William had found it – rolled up in toilet paper and wedged into the bottom of the lid. There was a hat pin (decorated with a naked man and woman kissing) and a typewriter key (an "A"). William expected that Clegg would be excited to hear the news of the clues, and that maybe he would have some ideas about what Jane meant by leaving them. He figured the hat pin was to provide positive identification of her, that Clegg would know it was from her based on the pin. And possibly the "A" was meant to signify Aasen Corporation, but he was far from sure. A memory of Jane approaching him, naked and seductive, flooded his mind. His body reacted. "It's no wonder that Clegg would have a thing for her," he thought, "She really is quite attractive and enthralling." He sighed and pushed the memory as far away as he could.
After eating cookies and reading a chapter of "Treasure Island," the children, already in their pajamas and being up past their bedtime, asked for another story. Well actually, his two daughters asked for him to read them Cinderella. William Jr. moaned and complained, as would be expected.
William suggested they had seen enough of Cinderella for one day, thanks to Mrs. Brackenreid. "How about a different fairytale?" he said, getting up and walking over to their row of books on the bookshelf. He pulled out "Snow White." As soon as the girls saw the book they got excited.
"Oh yes, Daddy!" Chelsea exclaimed.
William looked at his son. "Well, it's "Snow White" or bed?" he said, wrinkling the corner of his mouth.
William Jr. plopped back down in his chair and sighed, "Snow White," he glumly answered.
As William read the story, he felt a familiarity, an uncanny feeling that there were double-meanings and connections between the fairytale and their reality. Perhaps the fact that Snow White was poisoned, once with a hair comb and then again with an apple, and that in real life he was doing all he could think of to protect his Snow White, – Julia, from being poisoned. When he got to the end, and the Prince kissed Snow White, awakening her from her death-like sleep and saving her, Katie and Chelsea cheered and said that it was just like him and Mommy, because he had saved Mommy so many times – just like the handsome Prince in the story. They asked him to tell a story of one time he had saved Mommy. Even William Jr. perked up with that request.
He told them about the time when Julia, who was working at the asylum at the time, had taken in a patient from one of his cases. The woman refused to move. Julia was trying to help the woman see that it was because she was paralyzed with fear from witnessing a murder. The woman was terrified that the huge, monstrous man she saw kill another was coming to get her. "In reality, such a scary man was coming to get the woman – and Mommy too. But I figured out who he was and rushed over to the asylum, which is kind of like a scary castle, and I jumped on the monstrous man and stopped him right before it was almost too late. The End. Now bed," William said. "Your Mommy will be home tomorrow…" Cheers broke out all around. "You should be tired from making all these signs and that lovely banner. You'll need lots of energy to decorate before Mommy gets home tomorrow night," he explained as he lifted Chelsea up and placed on his hip. They headed upstairs, brushed their teeth and went to sleep.
William worked out and then took a shower. He packed a bag to take to the hotel tomorrow. Sitting out on the porch in his pajamas, waiting for 10:00 to share the night sky with his wife who felt so very far away, his mind drifted to the story of Snow White and the eerie feeling he had in his gut. He remembered the bad dreams he had had last night, with the children being trapped in an hour glass, and Julia helping him save them from within her grave. He told himself that such dreams explained the worrisome feeling. That all evidence was that nothing bad was likely to happen. He was pretty sure that the Hazardous Materials Suits would work, although they would be very uncomfortable and annoying to have to wear. Softly, he sang the song he'd written for Julia over the years, hoping that the magic connection he had always had with her would bring the song to her heart and that she would know how much he loved her – that she would feel his love for her right then, at that very moment in time.
Julia re-read the note from William. She wondered if she might be too excited about tomorrow to sleep. Lying in her prison bed, for what she hoped would be the very last time, she imagined seeing Reynolds dead on the floor in the morgue next to the slab with the body that had been booby-trapped to kill him. She would need to ascertain quickly where the poison was and how to render it harmless. She definitely felt stressed. But soon, her mind drifted to seeing William outside of the gate tomorrow – when she would walk out free. She had a fantasy.
The carriage jerked forward, they were on their way – away from the Don Jail and towards the Stationhouse where she would prepare for a life-threatening task. She felt him looking at her. She knew that when she looked back at him, she would be cast under his spell – that he would take her breath away. She waited for a moment, dropped her head to look down at her hands, feeling grateful to destiny that she had his rings on her finger. "He is impatient," she thought as he took one of her curls in his hand, sending a bolt of excitement through her flesh on a direct route to her womb, then flipping and spinning it at the same time. She brought her eyes to meet his, so very big, dark, and warm. "Oh here it comes," she thought as air seemed to flow out of her into him, dragging her along in the wake of its wind. She tilted her head, inviting him to kiss her. The kiss was heated, desperate, rushed. She moaned, feeling herself weakening with need for him. She wanted to speak, to tell him how much she had missed him, but her mind was spinning so that words would not come. They clung and dug at each other, wanting to be closer together than their clothing and their separate bodies would allow. Desperate to touch what she had been forbidden for so long, she reached down and undid his belt, then the buttons to his trousers. William's moan was delicious. Their kisses so deep and rough. He felt warm and firm. He moaned again. She truly believed there was no sound in the world more exquisite than the one he had just made. So quickly his pants were down, and she found herself on her knees on the carriage floor, belly to the seat. He was behind her, lifting her skirt, lowering her bloomers. He leaned over her, covered her, his hot breath rolled across her ear, rumbling, calling for her. She was completely helpless with need for him. "Please," she heard her voice whispery as it begged. "Oh, yes" she thought when she felt him push her thighs apart and touch her where she so wanted to be touched. "Here it comes," swam in her brain as e began to make love to her. "Please William," she said. His lovemaking was powerful, demanding – rough. Wildly her insides writhed out of control. She heard him moan with pleasure. Like a flower blooming from the inside out, she erupted – hot, melting, floating, swirly delight overcame her.
Julia marveled at herself. "If that happens when I'm awake, what will my dreams be like?" she thought, feeling the smile on her face grow as she thought, "What will tomorrow be like?"
William had decided to try to sleep this last night in their bed. He dreamt he was behind Julia at her vanity, lacing up her corset. He was feeling aroused. He kissed her neck, slid his hands around to cup and knead her breasts. She moaned. There was a movement in the mirror, and his focus shifted to see himself in the bed. Suddenly he was in the bed, propped up on an elbow looking at the vanity. Eva Pearce stood in front of it, where Julia had been. She asked the mirror, "Who is the fairest of them all?" The mirror answered – IN WILLIAM'S OWN VOICE – "Julia is the fairest of them all." Eva was furious. Her hands whipped around and she cast a spell into the mirror. Then she turned to face him, anger had slid away. Lust, at its most rugged a deepest, exuded from her. He felt both terror and thrill ignite within him as she approached. Oh, he wanted her. She knew it. She lay down next to him. Took his mouth in a kiss. Her hand explored his chest admiringly, her breath betraying her satisfaction in his ear. He was filled with desire. "How can I hide it?" he thought. At that moment she touched him, surrounding him in a hot electrified energy that empowered and weakened him. He looked at her, but now she was Jane, no longer Eva. "I can't," he said, sounding more like a plea than a statement.
Eva's voice came from Jane when she spoke, "It's no use, she's gone, and she knows you found another more fair! Ha-ha-ha," her wicked laugh sang.
William panicked, thinking Julia had been poisoned. He asked Eva demandingly, "Did you poison her?!"
"Only upon reflection will you know," and 'poof' she was gone.
William cautiously approached the vanity mirror. He saw himself, felt his guilt and despair as it became noticeable on his face. And yet, his fear that Julia was gone swelled up and overtook all of his other features. He heard it at exactly the same time he saw it. Her crying – inside the mirror. Julia sobbed, turned to look at him and asked, "Why did you stop loving me?"
His heart both seized and broke. Thinking that he had caused her such pain wilted him, defeated him. But he knew it was not true. "Fight through the shock and the guilt. Tell her the truth," he coached himself. "I never stopped loving you Julia," he pleaded, "I have always loved you – only you. And it is only you that I love still."
Through her sobs Julia said, "I saw you William – I saw you … with them."
His head was pounding, his heart was pounding and he was finding it hard to breathe. Dizzy and panicked he heard himself say, "Just my body Julia, just my body reacting to them… Not my soul – Not me. You know me Julia, as no one else does. Please remember what you know – That I love you, with undying devotion… Please know," he said as he fell into tears. He found himself kneeling over the mirror with Julia in it – The mirror was now on the floor. When his tear dropped down on to the mirror, it rippled, having become the surface of a lake. Julia floated up, too late. She had died. William's sobs awakened him.
He bolted up, held his chest, fought to find where he was – what was real. "Oh, thank God," he thought. "Tomorrow. I'll be with her tomorrow," he reminded himself. "I still have time – Time to make sure she knows how much I love her," he planned. As he carried the bedding down to the couch he thought, "I guess I will have to tell her about what happened with Jane too – Just to be able to live with myself." Before he drifted off to sleep, he remembered nearly losing control of himself as he pinned her against the prison wall. He was very pleased to realize that even when it came down to just how his body reacted to women, Julia was truly the fairest of them all.