Thunderstorms – Continued
Chapter 14: Friday, August 15, 1913 (PART 1)
The stationhouse was dim and quiet in the early hours of the morning. Only one constable was in the station tonight, as two were on outside assignments. Constable Clark had not heard a peep from Detective Murdoch's office for a few hours, the last stirring being when Dr. Ogden went to use the bathroom at about midnight. He speculated that she had had a nightmare, having heard her scream. By the time he'd made it to the detective's door, he heard the detective's voice as he calmly spoke with her. Clark had gone back to his work at the front desk, finding his mind distracted by thoughts about the couple. They had been through so much, even in just this one day they had encountered and endured more than many would in a lifetime. It was no wonder that they had nightmares. He had settled back into his routine, having found time to look into the whereabouts of the two men whose fingermarks were on the rifle Miss Webster had used to try to kill Detective Murdoch.
Suddenly, the front door opened, and although he would not like to admit it, the sound of it startled him. But the sight of the man who had come in only raised the levels of adrenalin pumping through his veins. He was an old man – but completely covered in blood. His grey hair was reddish-brown with dried, matted blood. There was blood all over the top of his shirt. He had an obvious bullet wound to his thigh, the trousers torn open – black powder burns could be made out on the pants-leg around the wound. The trousers were so bloodied that he could not discern their original color. The man's eyes flew frantically around the station – he was looking for something or someone specific. He rushed towards the constable, limping and dragging the wounded leg as he scurried. Finally, Constable Clark made out the name he kept screaming out, "Willy."
"Who the hell is Willy?" he thought.
The third time the man called out the name he said it differently, "William,"
And then it clicked in the constable's mind – "Murdoch, William Murdoch!"
"Are you looking for Detective Murdoch?" he asked.
The man had reached the front desk and leaned against it heavily, marking it with blood. "Yes!" he hollered, his volume much louder than necessary as Constable Clark was only about three feet away from him. The old man continued, still screaming, "Yes. He's my boy – my son… Willy, are you in here boy?!" he yelled out, once again hunting with his eyes throughout the station. His eyes found Murdoch's closed office door, and then he remembered from so many years ago that that was his son's office. He headed for the office door.
Constable Clark rushed to stop him, not believing that the man could be trusted.
"Willy!...Willy you in there!?" Harry called out.
Both William and Julia had been awakened by the yelling. "That's Harry," William whispered as he quickly used the lever to bring the reclining chair upright. They jumped up and William had opened the door just as Constable Clark had used his baton to block Harry from moving forward.
At the sight of William standing in the door, Julia behind him, both wearing only their scantiest underwear, Harry sounded relieved and yet still excited as he said, "Oh Willy. I've been looking for ya boy."
"Harry! What is it? … What happened to you?" William asked as he rushed to help him. "It's O.K. constable, this is my father," he instructed Constable Clark. Perhaps it was the shock of seeing Harry so injured, or more likely, that now William knew the man had behaved responsibly in caring for his and Julia's children, but for the first time he could remember, William did not feel shame when he introduced Harry as his father.
Julia overruled her feelings of self-consciousness at her state of relative undress, and went to help Harry. "You've been shot," she called out. And what happened to you her head? … Were you beaten?" she asked, trying to decide which injury to treat first.
William wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, and as Harry leaned on his son, they went into the office. William helped him sit on the chair. He moaned in pain as his knee bent slightly.
"Let me look at that, "Julia said. She took a pair of scissors from William's drawer and cut the fabric of the trousers to better reveal the wound.
"No! No! We don't have time for that," Harry declared. "I know where they are!" he said excitedly. Then he looked at William and said, "We've got to get 'em boy."
William asked, "You know where who is?"
"The men who tried to abduct your children – That's who!" Harry exclaimed.
William's eyes sparkled with the excitement of finally getting these men. He could not hide it. A smile grew on his face. It was contagious and Harry and Julia smiled as well. But William also knew they needed to slow down. This would have to be planned out. He took a deep breath and said, "That is wonderful Harry, but we won't be rushing over there right away. Let's do this right."
Harry screamed in pain as Julia explored the wound, "Ouch woman! What in the abomination are you do 'in to me?!"
Julia frowned and sighed and said, looking at William, "That bullet will have to come out."
William nodded and replied, "We'll take him over to the morgue then?"
"Yes," Julia answered. "I'll need to get dressed," she added.
For the first time, all three men realized that she stood in front of them all, wearing only a bodice and bloomers. There was no denying that she looked enticingly beautiful. She quickly gathered up some of her clothes to go in the backroom and dress. She would listen from on the other side of the drawn curtain.
Now that he was also aware that he was wearing only his underwear, William pulled his undershirt over his head and reached for his trousers as he turned his attention back to Harry. "So, tell us what happened," he asked. He pulled the trousers on. They were still dirty from where Julia's muddy dress had rubbed against them while they had hugged yesterday. Constable Clark caught Murdoch's eye and nodded to let him know he was going back to the front desk.
Harry took a deep breath. William knew the story would be grand – his father loved to tell a good tale. He leaned forward in his chair and began, "Well, to start with son, I figured they might come a look 'in for the children, so I was prepared. Now William, you should learn from this – I had made myself my suicide-gun and …"
William stood up taller and crossed his arms over his chest and asked, "And what, pray-tell, is a "suicide gun," he asked, wrinkling his face up to show his skepticism.
Harry took a firm hold of William's eyes and said, while tapping his index finger on the desk to intensify his point, "That has to be your weapon of choice when you think they're gonna torture you," he explained. You rig the biggest gun you got with some gun-powder for the explosion – and it makes one hell of a bang, I'll tell you," he said cupping his hand to the ear that was covered in blood. William realized that this explained why Harry was yelling, he had damaged his ear drum when he fired the gun next to his head. "Then," he continued, again tapping the desk, "You gotta put in your big red-dye pellet, so that when you fire it, the red dye gets all over you so you look like you're bleed 'in."
"So, you are covered in fake blood then?" William asked.
Julia rolled her eyes in the back room thinking, "Of course, if that were real blood the man would have to be dead." She had been struggling with her corset and decided to ask William for help. He joined her behind the curtain.
Harry continued with his story. "So, I had the suicide gun under my pillow on the couch … Course I also had a real gun there too, but when four armed men busted through the door, I knew I wasn't gonna be shoot 'in it out with 'em," he explained. "Now William, this man in charge, he has a real evil streak, I knew he would be the type to enjoy hurt 'in me … and I was right – He shot me for no good reason, I tell ya. So I pulled out the suicide-gun and I told 'em that they wouldn't get anything out of me and I pulled the trigger," he said proudly. He paused, and then added, "Now after that ya gotta keep your eyes real glazed-over like. You can't let your pupils change, so they really think you're dead…"
Harry rambled on about his performance to convince the men he was dead while William helped Julia dress in the backroom. Having finished tightening Julia's corset, he now found it difficult to step away from her. With his arms wrapped around her from behind, he kissed and nibbled on her neck. He had tenderly taken a hold of her breasts through her bodice, and as he lifted and pressed them together, he marveled at how strongly his body reacted to the feel of them – their heaviness in his hands and their doughy malleability. Oh, how he wanted to put his mouth on her. He took her earlobe in his mouth as he found one of her nipples with his fingers and pinched it, drawing it up. Julia's knees grew weak as she heard his warm, demanding breath blow out of his nostrils and flood into her brain. "William," she whispered, although it was unclear whether she was asking him to stop or to keep going. She reached up and caressed his chin and his cheek. "You need a shave," she whispered again.
"Mm," he answered. He slid his hand down over the cursed, bothersome, corset and rode the curves of her rib cage, waist and then hips. She turned to face him and they shared a soft, long, luscious kiss – one of those delicious kisses that swirls the brain and weakens the knees. Their hands needed to slowly move – across the other, to explore and take in the treasured sensations. Her fingers ran through his hair, traveled along the edges of his ears, and his hands down the small of her back, evoking a gasp from her as they encountered her buttocks.
Julia lifted her leg up, and she wrapped it around him, entangling them more. Her voice was intoxicating as she whispered, "I believe you were supposed to help me put my clothes on, detective, not take them off."
They hadn't noticed the pause in Harry's story …
"William?" Harry asked, checking to see if he was listening. "William, are you listen 'in?" he asked again. Harry leaned back in his chair and smiled slyly, "Now son, you ain't get 'in distracted by that pretty wife of yours, are you?" Harry teased.
William broke off the kiss, finally having heard his father. He whispered to Julia, "Great, now my father, of all people, is lecturing me about getting distracted from the case."
Julia giggled. "He's right you know," she said, lapping up his raised eyebrow and annoyance at the comment, spurring her to chuckle a little louder in response.
Loud enough that Harry heard them and said, "Well I can't blame ya boy…"
Julia turned William around and pushed him to the curtain. From behind him, she found his ear and whispered, "Back to work now detective," and then stepped back and gave him a playful kick in the buttocks, pushing him back into the office.
Bursting into view, and clearly blushing, William said to Harry, "Sorry," and then cleared his throat and asked him to continue.
Harry proceeded to do so, straining William's patience, as he still had not gotten to the point in the story where he discovered the location of Connor's business. "Please get to the point, Harry," William asked, trying to sound patient and grateful.
Harry frowned and said, "Well, these men had all pulled up in a carriage, and when I knew it was safe … well, they was get 'in away in that carriage, so I had to get my horse out real quick – just put on the bridle, noth 'in else, and thank God, there was no one else out on the street, so it was pretty easy to find 'em. They was head 'in for the docks. I followed all the way down Bowling Avenue till it ends there at the water. They's in one of them there factories at the end," he finished.
Almost finished dressing, Julia emerged through the curtain shortly after William had, only needing to put her hair up, and to put on her shoes. She took a seat in William's chair at his desk. As she quickly braided and then pinned her hair up, she noticed that William's right buttock had a perfectly formed print of her right foot on it. She giggled to herself and shook her head, dropping her eyes and hoping no one would notice her reaction. "I will have to tell him," she thought. With her hair finished, she asked William to bring her the shoes from their bag. When she took the shoes from him, she pulled his elbow to bring him down to her, and she turned her face to whisper in his ear. "You'll want to change into the clean trousers I brought for you … you have your wife's footprint on your derriere," she explained, with a tender kiss and a soft giggle. William stood up and raised an eyebrow at her, feigning annoyance at her mischievous behavior, further melting her heart.
Julia took Harry with her to the morgue; although William insisted that he and Constable Clark accompany them, remembering that she had been abducted while attempting to make a similar trip. He left Clark on guard there and he returned to the station.
Julia helped Harry clean off most of the dye and the blood. His grey hair was stained through, leaving it a pinkish color (generations in the future would call the look "punkish"). She then administered a local anesthetic to his thigh and removed the bullet. She saved it, figuring William might want to use it as evidence. Stitches were required to close the wound. As she worked, they both were fairly quiet, but each found they reflected on the admirable qualities of the other. Harry found Julia to be effective and kind as a doctor. He wondered how a son of his could have made such a good catch. She was truly beautiful … and very wealthy. Now he had already known that, but also highly educated, smart and warm-hearted, these traits impressed him even more than the others – reminded him of the women he had loved as a younger man. For her part, Julia thought about how Harry had, single-handedly, survived the onslaught of these dangerous and brutal men, and then been brave enough, and adept enough, to follow them, without being seen, and help locate their illegal weapons business. She shouldn't really have been so surprised, both of the man's sons were exceptional when it came to intelligence and courage – they had to have gotten it from somewhere.
Back in the stationhouse, William had begun to devise the plan they would use to capture the men. He called and woke up the Inspector (and Margaret unfortunately), Detective Gulliver, and Constable Crabtree, knowing he needed the best minds they had working on the plan. While he waited for their arrival, he found the city plans to try to determine which of the businesses at the end of Bowling Avenue was the one the men had taken their refuge in – which of the factories was the one being used by Connor to make and distribute the illegal weapons.
George arrived first. "Amazingly dependable," William thought as he turned to see him through his office windows as he entered the stationhouse. "Good morning George," he greeted the man. "We are very close now," he added, his excitement palpable.
"Sir," George nodded. He joined the detective in front of the blackboard.
William had flipped the board over to the side where he and Julia had drawn their parallel lines, and had placed the city plans in the center of the board. Some of the couple's drawings could be seen sticking out around the edges of the plans. He pointed to the place where Bowling Avenue intersected with the shore of Lake Ontario. "Here George," he said. He continued, "Now, it is going to be one of these three factories here … "
George stepped in closer and said, "Well it's not likely this one sir," as he pointed at the left hand side of the road, "This is the textile factory you had us get the warrant for and search through thoroughly. It was clean. There was nothing there, I'm sure of it."
"Then it is one of these two on the right side," Murdoch said.
The Inspector and Gulliver both walked into the stationhouse and joined them in Murdoch's office. The Inspector said, "Well, it was good to get a little shut eye, anyway. How about you Murdoch, did you get any sleep?"
Crabtree and Gulliver shared a look, knowing that the good doctor had showed up after the Inspector had left, and it was unlikely that the detective had gone to sleep right away. They quickly looked away from each other as their smiles grew.
"A few hours," Murdoch answered. Murdoch caught the three men up with Harry's news and then turned back to the plans. "George, pull out the Insurance Documents. Let's figure out what businesses each of these two remaining factories are supposed to be," Murdoch instructed.
While George looked for the records, Dr. Ogden and Harry Murdoch returned form the morgue. Constable Clark stood at the door listening in as well, as they all tried to determine exactly where Connor was running his operation. Julia asked William if he would mind letting Harry wear his dirty trousers and shirt. After he had changed, Harry looked quite presentable in William's clothes, except for the pink hair.
George returned with three huge books of insurance records. He started with the one for factories. "What are the numbers for each facility?" he asked.
Murdoch leaned in closer to the board to better read the plans. "The first one on the right is number 47 and the one closest to the water is 33," he answered.
Crabtree flipped through the pages, stopping and running his finger across the page, "Well the first one, # 47, is the "Edward Partington Pulp and Paper" factory. They make mostly toilet paper sir."
All eyes were on Murdoch. He turned his mind inward and ran all the clues in the case through his head. "That would fit, possibly, with the white cotton fibers found on Flate's and Lynch's clothing," the detective said, but the wrinkle of doubt at the corner of his mouth suggested he was not confident in the connection. He shook his head, "No," he continued, "It was definitely cotton, not paper," he decided. "How about the other one, George?" he asked.
This had to be it. Crabtree found the entry and said, "Number 33 is "Key Typewriters." They make Underwood typewriters…"
The flashes in Murdoch's mind began immediately. He saw in his mind's eye, the typewriter key, an 'A,' that Jane had left hidden in the hospital bathroom, and then he imagined the black ink on the soles of Lynch's shoes, and then also on those of Flate in his closet – and then, finally a fit, the black shoeprints at the prison, as well as those in Jane's room. He'd always expected they were Connor's. "Typewriter ink," he said aloud as he remembered the sight of the black smudges all over the report George had handed him, along with his description of having had fought with the typewriter ribbon. His eyes focused back into the present. He found his wife's eyes and asked, "But what about the white cotton fibers? How would they be consistent with a typewriter factory?"
It was detective Gulliver who figured it out. "Aren't typewriter ribbons made out of cotton?" he asked.
Murdoch responded, "Yes. Yes, I think so." His face lit up as he declared, "Yes – That's got to be the place!"
Brackenreid took charge quickly, "We are going to need to break out the armory. And we're going to need all hands on deck."
"Sir," Crabtree asked, looking to Detective Murdoch, "Wouldn't we be most likely to catch all, or most of the men involved, if we wait till after those who are not living there, or working there at night, show up in the morning?"
"Good thinking, George," Murdoch said.
The Inspector added, "And that will give us a bit more time to get everything we need in place. Crabtree, call in everyone. We'll need a few men to stay back here – but besides that, let's go in there with overwhelming force."
Approaching the time of departure for the raid, Murdoch, Ogden and Harry were in the Inspector's office with the Inspector. Brackenreid went to the cupboard and pulled out his whiskey. Murdoch frowned and looked at his pocket-watch, but Julia caught his eye and gave him a dirty look before he could complain about the early hour and drinking. Before the Inspector had even had a chance to ask, Harry excitedly said, "Now Inspector, you're a man after my own heart!"
The Inspector poured one for himself and Harry. Crabtree knocked at the door as the Inspector pointed the bottle at Julia and said, "Doctor?"
Sitting on the couch next to William, Julia leaned forward and turned her face away from William, and gave the Inspector a quick nod. She could feel William's shocked gaze in the back of her head. She took the glass from Brackenreid and said, turning to George who had now opened the door, hoping to draw William's attention away from herself, "What have you George?" and then immediately downed the whole glass. She was pleased William had looked away for a moment, and when he looked back at her she had a naughty grin on her face. She had already placed the empty glass down on the table at her side, out of sight. William dropped his chin and looked up at her through his gorgeous, thick lashes with a disparaging expression, evoking her to give in to the urge to giggle. She grabbed his elbow playfully and gave it an affectionate squeeze. She saw him yield, knew he loved her, all the more, for eccentricities.
George proudly said, "Well sirs, it turns out we have confirmation that the Key Typewriter factory is the place ... Constable Shaffer just called – he followed Hoyt Obannon to that very spot."
"Good," William declared. "We've got them!"
As the Constabulary pulled up to the Key Typewriter factory in carriages and with a paddy wagon full of men, a bright flash of lightning followed by loud bang of thunder announced the arrival of a deluge. The first few huge drops of rain hit the ground as Murdoch instructed Harry and Julia to stay put in their carriage. Julia frowned, but decided it was not worth troubling William any farther by fighting him about it. "The frail, little woman will stay put," she thought with a huff.
Alone in the carriage, Julia's instincts told her to duck down out of sight. She lowered herself so that just her eyes could peer out above the carriage door. Julia turned back to Harry and signaled for him to join her. He acquiesced, ducking down a little bit to appear to comply, but Harry had no intention of staying in the carriage. As soon as all of the twelve men had disappeared into the building, he intended to get out and sneak up behind them. He had his real gun, and he had every intention to help, "William's orders or not," he thought.
Two huge front doors marked the entrance into the factory. However, within each door there was a smaller, regular-sized door for everyday use. The Constabulary made their move. There were two armed men just on the other side of the doors, and the first two constables through the doors had to knock these men's guns down and disarm them quickly, as the others barreled in behind them. It was not a stealthy entrance; their presence was instantly known. The main portion of the factory opened up into a huge open space, with a high, two-story ceiling. Huge rolls of sheets of cotton were stacked at the periphery. To the left of the entrance, there were some machines that were each loaded with a cotton roll, and as the machines turned the rolls, they were sliced into long, thin strips. Behind these machines were those that likely did the job of administering the black ink onto the cotton strips, and then coiled them up onto metal spools, creating the typewriter ribbons. The floor all around these machines was soaked in black ink, explaining the shoeprints. To the right of the entrance, there were multiple other machines. Towards the back there were some machines that put the landmines together, while along the right side there were machines that attached the battlefield-light flares to small parachutes. There was one machine near the front entrance that armed the rows of guns, like the ones used in the attack on Murdoch and Ogden, by sliding a thin, metal bar through the triggers, and aligning another bar along the hammers that would intermittently re-set the guns. In the center of the space, there was a large table and some desks, comprising the administrative hub for the whole operation.
Fortunately, except for the two men at the door, the other twenty or so men appeared to be unarmed. They were either getting ready to work on the various machines, or meeting in the center hub. Murdoch immediately noticed Connor standing at the large table with two other men.
Back outside, and once the Constabulary had gone inside, Harry and Julia saw three men with guns drawn appear from the neighboring factory. They rushed towards the front doors, intending to trap the Constabulary inside. Harry had already opened the carriage door and was spotted by one of the men. He pointed his gun directly at Harry's head and aggressively walked towards him. Julia curled up on the floor of the carriage, hiding. A blinding flash of lightning with an ear-piercing bolt of thunder pounded the air. Harry and the other man were still so close to the carriage that, despite the teeming rain, Julia could hear what was said.
"How many times are we gonna have to kill you, old man?" the armed man threatened. He pistol-whipped Harry, who fell to the ground. The man picked him up to his feet, took his gun, and dragged him by his collar towards the other factory where he had originally come from.
Julia stayed down. She opened the carriage door and quickly stepped out of the carriage. Keeping her head low, she ran for the side of the typewriter factory. She intended to go around back. She discovered a steep embankment behind the side of factory. She slid down the drenched, muddy slope to get down to the water's edge. Then she needed to crawl up on the wooden pilings of the pier to get to the back entrance. The two gigantic doors at the back were closed, but they also had small doors within them for easier access. This back entrance opened up directly onto the pier and was normally used to load up boats. Julia stood huddled against the door in the midst of the storm. Soaking wet, out of breath from effort and from fear, she paused and listened. The storm was too loud. She would not be able to hear anything from inside. If she decided to go in, she would have to do so with no idea what was on the other side of the door until after she had opened it.
The Inspector called out, BELLOWING so as to have any chance of being heard over the storm, "Toronto Constabulary! You are all under arrest." Brackenreid, Murdoch, Gulliver and all of the constables took aim at various men within different points within the large space. Murdoch and the Inspector focused their guns on the men in the center, Connor and the two men who had been speaking with him. The Inspector bellowed again, "Hands up!" just then, as if God was on the Constabulary's side, a monstrous flash of light and colossal bolt of thunder rocked the building. The Constabulary held their nerve, but most of the other men jerked as they startled, quickly throwing their hands up in the air.
Murdoch noticed that Connor had not complied. He took a firm aim at Connor with his gun and yelled out, "Put your hands in the air, Connor, NOW!"
Slowly, Connor lifted his arms, looking to his mates, who did so as well. He wondered how the detective had come to know his name. "Probably that sneaky bitch, Jane – I knew she was a spy," he thought. Connor saw them, but didn't react. However, the two men next to him changed where they were looking, focusing behind Murdoch and the Inspector.
Just as Murdoch turned to see where the men were focusing their gaze, a gun barrel nudged up against the back of his head and he could hear the gun cock. Two men had come in behind them and had Murdoch and the Inspector teetering on the edge of being killed. "Drop your guns!" one of the men behind them ordered. The Inspector and Murdoch both complied, letting their guns fall to the floor.
Connor called out loudly, "You all had better drop your guns or they will be killed!" Connor pulled out a gun and aimed it directly at Murdoch.
Quickly scanning the scene, there were men all around, most unarmed, but a few also had weapons. The Constabulary, except for Brackenreid and Murdoch, still held their guns.
Murdoch said to his men, "They are going to kill the Inspector and myself anyway," thinking that the Constabulary should hold on to their weapons.
Connor laughed loudly and then said, "That's right, Detective Murdoch. There is still an order out to kill Inspector Brackenreid, but it is no longer necessary to kill you." Seeming to enjoy the drama of the situation, Connor decided to explain why. Screaming loudly to make sure his enemies heard every word, he started his speech…
Julia took a deep breath and leaned her weight down on the door handle. It clicked as it opened. Never stopping her slow, deliberate momentum, she moved in through the small space she had cleared by narrowly opening the door. She was in! With her back to the door, her eyes and ears scanning the wide, open space, she pulled the door closed behind her. Quickly she dropped down behind a large crate of grenades. She perused the area, pausing to come up with a plan, taking a grenade out of the crate just in case. She slipped along behind some more crates and then lay down on the ground. She could see William! He had a gun to his head! The Inspector too. A man's voice droned on and on. She watched William's eyes. He was looking around – trying to discover a way out of the situation. She snuck forward between some rolls of cotton, moving closer to William. Suddenly she halted and crouched down. She saw the man doing all the talking, standing in the middle of the huge building. "That must be Connor," she thought. He also had a gun pointed at William. "If I can just get William's attention…"
She worried that the two men standing behind William and the Inspector might see her if she moved. She decided to hold her ground and see if William, who was looking around, would spot her. Another big bang and bright flash shook the building as the storm raged on outside. She stood up taller at that very moment, using the startling distraction to temporarily mask her motion.
Her breath caught in her chest – their eyes met! His face flashed the contradiction he felt – relief and worry. Julia held up a grenade and shrugged her shoulders, signaling to William her question about how to use it.
Aiming his eyes towards the opposite side of the room, hoping to pull eyes away from Julia, William hollered out, "Pull the pin out and then throw it." The man behind him took no chances and smacked William in the back of the head with the gun. William fell to the floor
Julia pulled the pin out, no one spotting her yet, and threw the grenade towards the center of the room where Connor and the other two men were standing. Thank goodness she ducked right away, as the motion of her arm flinging the grenade rapidly drew fire from multiple parts of the building. Constables were still armed and now were firing. Many of Connor's men were armed and were firing. Bullets flew everywhere.
Connor and the two men with him had pulled the big table onto its side, using it as cover. They took aim at Murdoch and the Inspector, but the grenade exploded about ten feet in front of them, blowing all three of them backwards and to the ground. It sounded as if every firecracker shot off in a fireworks display all went off in a matter of six seconds. The building was full of explosives, and inevitably a bullet had hit something live, setting off a massive explosion from somewhere in the back-right side of the building, probably some landmines. The smell of explosives and smoke began to permeate the air – signaling an urgency to get out.
There were many injured men, both from the Constabulary as well as from Connor's men. Higgins had been hit in the shoulder, and Jackson in the chest. Jackson was having trouble breathing. Both the Inspector and Murdoch had been able to take cover behind some cotton rolls. The Inspector yelled to Murdoch, "We need to get out before it blows!"
It was raining very hard, and Murdoch hoped the rain might extinguish the fires. There were two places where the roof had been blown off. He had to find Julia. He took a chance and ran to where he had last seen her. He glanced back towards Connor and saw he had a leg injury. The other two men were helping him – they were moving towards the back doors, trying to escape out onto the dock. They probably had a boat waiting. He scanned the area looking for Julia. He spotted her – she was helping Jackson. There were no longer any bullets being fired, as most men were trying to escape. The constables were capturing many of the men as they ran for the, now open, front doors. Figuring Julia was relatively safe and would be alright on her own, William took off after Connor.
Detective Gulliver had planned on going around to the back of the building to take up a position behind Connor, but the explosion had dropped a piece of a conveyor belt from a machine on him. He had struggled to free himself from the debris. He was not badly injured. He caught sight of Detective Murdoch heading out the back door, presumably in pursuit. He followed.
Julia decided Jackson had a collapsed lung. "Lie still and use as little energy as possible," she instructed. "George!" Julia called out, seeing he had caught and handcuffed one of Connor's men, "I need a board or something to get Jackson out." She took a gigantic needle out of her bag and attached it to a syringe. Jackson's eyes grew large with fear. "Lift your arm please constable," she said. He swallowed and did so, needing some help from her. He winced with the pain. Julia felt around to find the top of a rib, thus avoiding piercing a nerve, artery or vein, and stuck the needle in. She pulled back on the syringe until she found air that had become trapped around the lung, contracting it. She then cut a hole in the syringe so the air would flow out of the cavity around the lung. George and the Inspector showed up with a board. She told them that Jackson would be alright. She looked back into the building. It was smoky. She didn't see William. Alarm spread through her.
Detective Gulliver had run out onto the dock to see some men near the end on the right side. As he stayed low and hurried towards them, the sound of his feet on the wooden floor silenced by the pounding rain, he noticed that one of them was Murdoch. He saw Murdoch get punched to the ground. Gulliver fired a shot at the man standing above Murdoch, hitting him. As he ran forward towards them, they lifted a limp Murdoch up, and tossed his body over the side of the pier. Then the men jumped onto the boat and sped off. Gulliver fired some shots at the boat, hoping to disable the motor to no avail. Looking over the side, down into the water, he spotted Murdoch's body floating face down. Panic began to overtake him – he couldn't swim! "Help! Help!" he cried out as loud as he could, momentarily frozen with indecision. Just as he began to run back to the building, Julia came through the back door.
"Dr. Ogden!" he screamed out running towards her, "Murdoch went over – He's in the water. He's unconscious!"
"Not again," she thought. Her heart raced. She had to get to him. Her legs carried her faster than she ever thought possible. Gulliver stood up ahead leaning over the railing, pointing down at Murdoch's floating body. "I can't swim," he yelled over the sound of the rain.
Their height above the water evoked a quake of fear in her, but there was no hesitation - She dove in. She had to save him. Gulliver rushed to the closest lifesaver and threw it down to her. She had already rolled William over, but he wasn't breathing. Gulliver spotted a small boat down in the water, tethered to the dock. He used the rope to climb down to the boat, and then used his gun to shoot the rope, freeing the boat. He quickly rowed over to Ogden and Murdoch. They got Murdoch's body into the boat. Then Gulliver helped Ogden climb into the boat. She immediately began intermittently breathing air into William's mouth, and pumping forcefully against his chest. After her third cycle, water spurted out of William's mouth and he began to cough.
Julia nearly fainted with relief. She fell back to sit perched up against the side of the boat, and tried to remain conscious. Her head was spinning. Her body felt as though it weighed thousands of pounds – too heavy to move. Nausea floated up.
Gulliver helped Murdoch sit up and he banged an open hand against the man's back, helping him to cough up the water in his lungs. William's face was bright red from the effort of coughing so much. He was still unable to talk when Julia said, "William," she reached up and rubbed her forehead – she was so dizzy. "William, are you alright?" she asked, sounding both weak and dazed.
He continued to cough, trying to hold her eyes. He so wanted to reassure her. He nodded his head. He saw her respond, knew she felt relief, as she exhaled sharply. She needed to catch her breath too. Finally enough air passed over his vocal chords that he could make a sound. "Thank you," he said, followed by, "Where's my hat?"
Julia laughed, marveling at the irony of the situation. "Again he wants the hat," she thought. She answered him through her laughter, "It's back in your office… Remember … It's full of bullet holes."
His face was worth a thousand words – so disappointed. He loved that hat.
The three of them rowed to shore and climbed up the steep embankment Julia had used to go around the building. Once they were in front of the building, the mayhem could be assessed. Although the building was still on fire, the flames were now focused at the back of the building. A fire wagon was on the scene. All of the men from the Constabulary were accounted for. Those with the worst injuries – Jackson, Higgins, and Shaffer, had been rushed to the hospital in one of the carriages. The paddy wagon was loaded up with Connor's men, some of whom were also badly injured. They would go to the hospital first, for those with the worst injuries, and then take the rest of the arrestees back to the station to be jailed and questioned. Two of Connor's men had been killed. The carriage from the morgue was on its way.
Murdoch asked Gulliver and Crabtree if they thought they could retrieve some of the weapons inside for him. He wanted a few battle-field lights and some grenades. They already had a landmine in the armory, from when the Inspector had received the package bomb, and they had the racks of self-firing guns from when he and Julia had been targeted at Felicity Rodriguez's crime scene. The two men shared a look. They would do just about anything for the detective. They hurried off and returned quickly with the items he had requested, and packed them above the second constabulary carriage.
Dr. Ogden convinced Inspector Brackenreid, Detective Gulliver and Constable Crabtree to head back to the stationhouse without Detective Murdoch. She wanted him to stay back with her, and then return to the stationhouse in the morgue carriage. She had diagnosed the detective with a concussion, and she wanted to keep an eye on him. He had been hit hard on the back of the head, and on the side of the head. He had also been deprived of oxygen while he was unconscious in the water. She believed he had stopped breathing before they had gotten him into the boat. He had a huge headache, felt nauseous, and most importantly, couldn't remember chasing after Connor, or anything really, since after the grenade went off. He kept asking the same questions over and over again. "Julia, did I see you inside the building?" "Was Connor shot?" "How did I get so wet?" and, the truly most humorous one, and yet, after answering it seventeen thousand times, also the most annoying, "Where's my hat?"
Before the three men boarded the carriage to return, Dr. Ogden asked them to see if they could find any trace of Murdoch's father. She said she had seen a man hit him and lead him off into the factory next door. Upon entering the Toilet Paper factory next to Connor's building, it was obvious that it was part of the illegal weapons business as well. There were crates and crates of weapons ready to be shipped. Harry was nowhere to be found. The whole place had been abandoned, probably because as soon as the shooting started everyone took off to avoid capture. They reported back to Dr. Ogden before they left. There was no blood found in the building, so Harry probably wasn't killed, at least not there.
Julia knew William was out of it because he had not put up a fight about staying with her rather than going back to the stationhouse to question the suspects. However, once they returned to the morgue, Julia needed to perform post-mortems on the two victims, and William fought hard to go over to the stationhouse. She instructed him that, when he could remember the name of the current Prime Minister, she would let him go. Until then, he stayed with her, doctor's orders – and he needed to stay awake. He was feeling very sleepy, and she knew it was dangerous to let him fall asleep.
Over at the stationhouse, the Inspector had decided to send Isabel Webster over to stationhouse #5 so they would have both cells for the nine men they had arrested, as well as Ed Obannon and Mr. Wilson. Inspector Brackenreid and Detective Gulliver prepared for the questioning of Connor's men. They stood with Crabtree, looking over Murdoch's blackboard and all of the evidence he had accumulated on the worktable. They also had much more evidence now, most of the men they had arrested had identification and weapons.
On the blackboard, Brackenreid noticed a note about Murdoch's fingermark being on Isabel Webster's .12 caliber gun. "That's odd, Murdoch is usually exceptionally careful about getting his marks on evidence" he said. George explained that Murdoch figured he had handled the gun, without gloves, whenever its original owner was arrested. Brackenreid figured that made sense, but argued, "Let's keep it to ourselves. Knowing Murdoch's luck, if the press heard about it they would accuse Murdoch of committing the murders of Lynch and Rodriguez."
Detective Gulliver countered with, "No I don't think so, sir. Miss Webster already admitted to killing them."
"True," Brackenreid acknowledged, looking somewhat relieved.
Mr. Meyers walked into the office. "Gentlemen," he greeted them, "Where's Detective Murdoch?" Murdoch's circumstance was explained to Meyers, and then he joined the men in prioritizing who to question, and what to ask. Meyers argued that they make finding the American spy, Jane, a top priority. He explained that he had gone to visit Mr. Clegg in the hospital. Clegg had found the typewriter factory and he had been beaten, quite brutally, by Connor. He claimed that Connor told him Jane was still alive, but he is certain he was hurting her. They also wanted to find out Connor's last name, likely places he would go to hide out, and whether there were any planned deliveries of weapons.
A few hours later, Meyers, Murdoch, Ogden, Gulliver and the Inspector prepared to meet in the Inspector's office. They needed to plan what steps to take next. Before the Inspector and Gulliver joined them, Meyers casually spoke with the couple. He found himself envying Murdoch for his relationship with Julia once again. She cared for him so well, both professionally as a doctor, and lovingly as his wife. Meyers asked, "So how do you know he's still not recovered?"
Julia smiled and glanced over at William, who seemed quite interested in her answer as well. She bounced up a little, excited about the opportunity to share her medical observations. "Well," she said, "He has nearly recovered. For instance, he hasn't asked about his hat for over an hour now," she said with a little giggle. She knew Meyers would not get her joke – it was an inside joke. She looked to see, however, if William did. He gave her that look – the one that always made her laugh, which she did. He had dropped his chin and was looking up at her through his eyelashes with an annoyed look. "William," she declared through her giggles, "You asked where your hat was at least thirty or forty times," she explained. Julia looked back at Meyers and continued, "However, he still cannot name the Prime Minister, so I know he's not out of the woods yet."
Meyers looked to Murdoch and asked, "You don't know who the Prime Minister is?"
William tried, "Bobby something … No, that's not right …" He sighed out of frustration.
Julia leaned over to him, they were sitting next to each other on the couch, and said tenderly near his ear, "Don't worry William … You'll get it soon."
He smiled at her. He didn't remember ever feeling so vulnerable before – maybe when he had completely lost his memory and ran into Anna Fulford's pub in Bristol. But William marveled at how safe he felt with Julia. He was surprised at the ease with which he was willing to totally put himself in her hands. It felt good. She saw it in his smile – It warmed her heart.
Julia turned back to Meyers and added, "Can you imagine my bad luck – I saved William – twice today! And he can't remember anything about it." Meyers asked her to describe both times. She did so, watching to see if William seemed to be recovering any memory of the events. He did claim to remember now, seeing Julia in the back of the building with a grenade, nothing else though. She told him –AGAIN – that she had thrown the grenade and immediately afterwards all hell broke loose. He had gotten hit over the head and, at least temporarily knocked unconscious, and everyone with a gun seemed to start firing.
William still didn't remember going after Connor or ending up in the water. But he did say, once Julia got to that point in the story, "That's why I was all wet!" Julia felt a pang of relief; he was regaining his memory.
When the Brackenreid and Gulliver joined them, they shared what they had learned from the interrogations thus far. They had gotten a last name for Connor – Brogan. There was absolutely no record on the man. He had come into the country legally about four years ago. He had never been arrested, and there was no recorded address for him. A couple of his men claimed they had seen him with Jane at the factory once, and it looked like she had been beaten. Brogan never introduced her, and he took her away again rather quickly.
William had stirred with the name 'Jane.' "I remember who she is – Clegg's spy, and his lover," he exclaimed, excited about his increase in memory.
Julia nodded at him. "Good," she said.
Gulliver went on to explain that most of the time Brogan slept at the factory, but that, ever since he had brought Jane by, he had been leaving at the end of the day. They suspected he had her somewhere and was going to her. None of the men knew, or were willing to say, where he was going. "We do have one lead, though," Gulliver continued. "A few of the men mentioned a bar that Brogan liked – "The Wheat Shaft Tavern." Constable Crabtree and Constable Clark have headed over there to see what they can find.
They listened as the Inspector finished telling what they had learned. There was to be a large ship arriving to receive a big order of weapons next week. No one would say from where or exactly when. They also discussed what to do with the confiscated weapons. Meyers and Clegg still seemed to be arguing over whether rightfully belonged to the USA or Canada. Meyers claimed that he intended to claim them for Canada as Clegg was unable to do much about it at this point. Gulliver, an American, expressed his disappointment in Canada's willingness to so easily betray their ally to the south. The Inspector suggested they call the Prime Minister and get him involved in the decision.
William nearly bolted upright. "I've got it!" he declared. Everyone thought he had discovered an important clue – what country Brogan was dealing with, or where Brogan was, or where they might find Jane… But instead Murdock claimed excitedly, "Robert Borden!" and stared intently at Julia. "The Prime Minister is Robert Borden," he explained.
"Yes William," she smiled and replied. "Welcome back, detective," she teased. Oh, how she wanted to play with his tie – kiss him. She exhaled strongly, fighting the urge.
They speculated that they would probably try to set a trap to capture the boat as it arrived next week to collect the supplies. Meyers also wanted to inspect the two factories to see if they could find any of the plans for the weapons. He was sure there were more than the two that he had taken from Murdoch previously. (For a moment, Murdoch wished he had still lost his memory, concerned his reaction might have given away the fact that he had these very plans hidden away in his back room, but no one seemed to notice).
Now that Murdoch had passed his memory test, he was anxious to get to work tracking down Brogan. Dr. Ogden insisted she go along with him, and they planned to first head over to "The Wheat Shaft Tavern." Before they left, Dr. Ogden waited in the bullpen while Murdoch put on his vest and jacket. Gulliver quietly mentioned that he was sorry that they would not have time to watch the Gillies film. Julia said that they should still try; just that it would have to be some other time.
Her appetite having been wetted, Julia flirted and teased her husband mercilessly during the carriage ride to the bar. She could tell he loved it, even though he continued to rush to re-button whatever it was she had just unbuttoned. Suddenly she had an idea. She was going about it all wrong, working to get him more unclothed … Of course; she would do much better at breaking through his defenses if she were the one getting undressed. "And I'm even wearing his most irresistible dress," she thought. She moved back, increasing the distance between them. Charmed, she noticed that he still held her gaze as she did so. She reached up, wrapping her fingers around the top, pearly-white, globe-shaped button of her dress. His groin ignited. She saw it in his face as his eyes darkened with desire, she herself becoming extremely aroused in turn. The dress was tight, so the button popped free, leaving the fabric at the top pulled widely apart. She reached for the next button. He stopped her, wanting the pleasure for himself. Julia's breath had been taken. Her insides flipped over; her head spun with lustful need for him. She longed to feel his hands on her, his mouth on her. My God, how she wanted to hear his hot, demanding breath barrel over her ear, and feel the weight of his body pressing down on top of her. She felt dizzy as she imagined him rhythmically making love to her. She moaned hungrily as he brought his face down to the cleavage between her breasts and pushed them together, her soft, delicious skin being enticed by the warmth of his cheeks. She dug her fingers into the back of his head and pulled him deeper into her bosom. "William," she whispered huskily.
"Whoa," they both heard the carriage driver call out to the horse. They knew they would have to stop. Both out of breath, William pulled back, and Julia took to quickly re-buttoning her dress. They instinctively knew to keep their eyes off of each other for a moment – to recover.
As soon as they walked in the small, dark tavern, they knew that the constables were no longer there. It was empty, except for the bartender and one very old man sitting at the bar. Figuring they had already been questioned, they decided to forego asking the men about Brogan or Jane. They took a seat at the bar and ordered a whiskey and a spruce beer. Not wanting to waste much of their precious time, Julia downed the whiskey in one swallow and William took a few quick sips of his drink. They left quickly. From outside, Julia noticed that there were some homey-looking curtains in the upstairs windows. She pointed them out to William. "Perhaps someone rents it – sleeps up there," she suggested.
William decided they should check around the back. The small back area behind the bar consisted of a narrow path that ran right along the back of the building. It opened up into a slightly wider space for some garbage bins. But behind all of that, there was a very high wooden wall – nearly 10 feet high. William came up with a plan. He held his hands cupped together and Julia stepped into them, placing her hands on top of his shoulders at first for balance, but then leaning against the wall. She reached up as he lifted her foot higher, until she grasped the top of wall.
She knew, from the moment she could see over to the other side, they had found something. It took her brain a moment to catch up with her eyes – the sight was so unimaginable, and yet, there it was true as life. Jane laid on her side, curled up in a fetal position, hands and feet bound, she was naked, and covered in bruises and dirt, and some dried blood. She wore a dog collar around her neck and she was tethered to a small dog house. Her rib cage moved as she took a weak breath. "She's alive!" Julia thought.
The door in the wall was well-hidden, located behind the property and blended in with the wood grain of the wall. William and Julia crouched down next to her, like they so often do next to a dead body. Julia softly touched Jane's shoulder and called her name. Her face was very bruised and swollen, making it difficult to tell that she had opened her eyes in response to Julia's touch. William pulled out his pocketknife and cut the ropes binding her feet, then moved to the other side of Julia to free her hands. As he reached to unbuckle the dog collar, Jane cleared her throat and feebly coughed. William paused, but then went back to completely liberating her from the ties.
Jane cleared her throat again and said faintly, "So it's the handsome, married, detective who will save me then?"
William and Julia shared a look, both amazed that a woman in such a battered state could speak so clearly and rationally. Julia said, "You are very badly hurt, but we've found you now."
"Is this the wife you spoke of?" Jane asked a she made an attempt to move, wincing in pain and abruptly halting.
William stood up, giving room for Julia to care for the badly injured woman better. "Yes, she's a doctor. She can help you," he said reassuringly. He left to call for an ambulance.
Julia was frustrated by her lack of a medical bag, and her resulting feeling of helplessness. She could tell that there were some broken ribs, a dislocated shoulder, probably some broken facial bones, and quite a few severe cuts that would have required stitches, but now scar tissue had formed along the edges. Unfortunately, some of the lacerations were infected. As Julia worked to assess and treat her, Jane explained, "You should know, I shamelessly seduced your husband … He seemed tempted." In her current state, Jane did not appear to be very alluring, and Julia's call to be jealous was not alerted, but then she remembered the woman's photograph, and then William's description of his dream, and his guilt, and she felt the awful emotion taking hold. She despised the feeling. She blew some air out roughly through pursed lips, trying to blow off some of the steam.
Jane swallowed, Julia recognizing she was likely very thirsty. There was some water in a dog bowl, most probably from the rain. She brought her some. Julia helped her lie her head back down and Jane spoke again. "He is very true to you, Julia. You deserve to know that, from someone who can tell," she said. Julia was surprised the woman knew her name. William returned and stood behind them. It was unlikely that Jane knew he was back when she added, "Alan tells me that Meyers has quite a thing for you… Spies, they are such lonely people." She sighed.
William noticed his fists curl up instantly thinking of Meyers and his wife again. It particularly annoyed him that it seemed that Alan Clegg knew of Meyers' feelings. He wondered if they had spoken about it. He battled with himself to trust and to let it go. Julia asked William to get her the dog-leash that had been used to tie Jane to the doghouse. He helped her to sit Jane up so that she could relocate her shoulder. She used the leash to make a sling. "I think you have a broken hip, and I'm worried you may have some broken vertebra as well. You will need to move as little as possible until the ambulance gets here," the doctor explained.
William squatted down next to both of them again and said, "They are going to take you York General Hospital. That is where Clegg is." He realized that Jane might not know that Clegg had been looking for her, that he had been beaten as he tried to find her and save her. After he told her, she started to cry. It was apparent that Jane cared as deeply for Alan Clegg as he cared for her.
While they waited, Jane explained that she had behaved so enticingly with William because she needed him not to talk – not to identify himself as Detective Murdoch. Jane knew who Murdoch was, and she thought Connor probably hadn't recognized him from behind. Connor had said that his boss wanted him to kill Murdoch.
William clarified, "So Connor had a boss?" he asked. Jane claimed to know nothing about him, except that he was the only one in the world that could control Connor. He was the cruelest, craziest, and most violent man she had ever met. Murdoch wondered if the boss might have been Clegg, but then things had gone awry when Brogan kidnapped Jane. More times than not, Clegg had been double, or triple-crossing them in the end. Murdoch definitely didn't trust the man, although, he had seen Clegg's authentic panic when it came to getting Jane back. Perhaps he was not as heartless as William had thought.
When they got back to the station, Murdoch questioned the men that had been arrested at the factory. He learned that Mr. Lynch had worked for Brogan. He had not shown up to work a couple of weeks ago, fitting with the time he was killed. Murdoch also gained conformation that Brogan did have a boss. The man had never been seen, no one knew his name, or anything about him. However, they were certain he existed because they had heard Brogan speak of following orders. Murdoch was reminded that Brogan himself had said that there was an order out to kill the Inspector during the brief standoff in the factory.
In the mid-afternoon, William and Julia sat together at his desk sharing a late lunch. William's mind toiled with the case. They needed to find Brogan. And now he was worried about whom the head of this whole organization was. Julia found her eyes dwelling on the desk. Memories flowed through her – she and William had made love right there last night. She marveled at the fact. She really never thought William would do such a thing. She still found it very hard to believe. She realized that he had been talking, and she had not been listening. He was asking her a question – she had no idea what. Slightly embarrassed, she lifted her chin to meet his eyes. God she loved him. "Sorry William. What did you say?" she asked.
He could be obtuse, but as he asked himself what could be distracting her, he remembered last night too. He blushed. He leaned back and opened his mouth to say something, but the thoughts disappeared with the rush of heat.
"William," Julia teased, for she knew why he was blushing, "Have you lost your memory again?"
He cleared his throat, hoping it would allow his voice to come out sounding normal. He swallowed for good measure. "No, um no. I remember quite well," he said with a smile that melted her through and through. He glanced down at the edge of the desk where they had made love. Then he lifted his eyes back to hers and added, "Thank goodness," with a chuckle, causing himself to blush again.
Having finished eating, they cleared off his desk while they talked. William claimed he remembered most of the events Julia had described to him, except ever being in the water. He walked around to Julia's side of the desk and rested his buttocks down on the edge of the desk, placing his hands in his pockets. He said, lustful suggestions in his tone, "And I remember very clearly, that you, my dear did not listen to me."
Julia stood from her chair and put her hands on her hips. She was feigning anger, but she was quite convincing. "I do not work for you… And you cannot order me about like some constable," she insisted.
"Mm," he replied, "That is a problem." He held her eye, a mischievous twinkle sparking her soul.
Julia gave him a playfully shove, "Well now, William Murdoch, I did save your life – Twice," she said. Her fingers traced along his shirt collar, calling every cell in his body to alert.
He stood up, took her hips in his hands, and felt that delicious, dizzying swirl start to spiral in his brain. Winsomely, he whispered, his breath crossing her ear, teasing her insides into a warm tug, "You, Julia Ogden, save me every day. You make my life whole. Remember, always remember, you are my parallel." He kissed her, feeling enchanted by the spinning and floating in his body as she melted into him. They fit together so perfectly, right here and right now, they knew that they were exactly where they were meant to be.
The storm's danger had blown past. The sky had cleared, warm sun now shining on their backs. Life offered them a rainbow – they basked in its beauty while they could, for rainbows, like everything else in life, are temporary and fleeting. And rainbows only exist when the Sun is behind you. Thus, it was sunset that loomed ahead, bringing with it inevitable dusk, and then darkness. They had found a clearing, but they were not yet out of the woods.