Detective Murdoch and Inspector Brackenreid took a handsome across town to see Councillor Best's wife. Murdoch had tasked George Crabtree with finding anything out about the shrunken head and sack it came in, before he left the station house with his boss.
"I suppose we should have visited Mrs. Best sooner," the Inspector stated nervously.
"I agree that it would have been prudent," Murdoch commented. "I suppose we just got wrapped up in the discovery and disappearance of Councillor Best. It won't happen again," he glanced at his boss who sat next to him in the carriage.
"We all make mistakes, Murdoch. I'm just glad that you're on this case," Brackenreid stated.
"Thank you, Sir," Murdoch smiled slightly as the coach began to slow down. "This would appear to be our stop," he noted.
"Crikey! Look at the size of that house," Brackenreid exclaimed, his mouth almost dropping open in awe as he gazed through the carriage window at the two story red brick house. The whole building had intricate white gingerbread details along the eves. Even the shutters had decorative elements.
"It certainly is a big one," Murdoch agreed as he opened the door and stepped out of the coach. "But remember, it's a family that makes a home, not the size," he added.
Brackenreid thought about his Detective's comment as he also exited the coach, "You know Murdoch, you are right," he stated feeling a bit better about his own home. William seemed satisfied with his boss' comment as the two walked to the door. "I bet he has servants," Brackenreid whispered as they walked up the steps on the large veranda.
"I suppose we'll soon find out," Murdoch looked skeptically at his boss as he lifted the lion-head door knocker and struck it several times on the metal plate on the door. Brackenreid was busy looking around the veranda and front yard.
A few minutes passed and finally there was some action at the door. Brackenreid turned on his heels, "Slow servants at that," he leaned toward the Detective as he watched the door. Again the Inspector's mouth dropped open as it was Mrs. Best that opened the door. The Inspector shot a glance over to Murdoch, but the Detective shrugged, "It was your hypothesis, Sir," he shrugged.
Brackenreid tried to save face and tipped his hat, "Mrs. Best," he smiled awkwardly.
"It's about time you came around," Mrs. Best snorted as she stepped aside allowing the two men into the house. They both removed their hats; holding them in their hands.
"Thank you for calling the police station Mrs. Best. It's imperative that we see your husband's suit. You did say he had taken a bath, did you not?" William asked.
"Yes," Mrs. Best said curtly. "The room is up the stairs and to the left," she motioned with her hand toward the massive staircase behind the tow policemen. Brackenreid and Murdoch turned, and again the Inspector was struck with awe as he stared at the handsome carved newel posts; one of a soldier and one of a woman. Perhaps it was the Bests in younger years, Brackenreid thought. Murdoch was slightly amused by his boss' reaction to the house as they both climbed the stairs, following Mrs. Best to the room where Maxwell had changed his clothing. The soiled damp suit was draped over the back of the chair. "Sir," Murdoch pointed out the mud on the back of the coat, "This is they suit he had on," he spoke calmly.
"You knew he was wearing that suit?" Mrs. Best stepped forward questioning the men.
"Yes Ma'am," the Detective answered. "We found your husband in a alley near the old saddle company," he states.
"What on earth was he doing there?" Mrs. Best was quick to ask.
Murdoch and Brackenreid exchanged looks. "Madam, has your husband ever fainted before?" Brackenreid then questioned.
Mrs. Best was clearly puzzled by the question, "I don't know what you mean," she finally said.
Murdoch stepped toward the older woman, "We received a call that your husband was found unconscious in the alley. When we attended the site, it would appear that he was deceased," the Detective explained.
"Maxwell is dead?" Mrs. Best gasped, holding her hands over her mouth. Brackenreid moved another chair over for her to sit upon, which she did. "Oh my. What happened?"
"This is where the story gets a bit strange," Murdoch continued. "As usual, we took him to the morgue for examination, but it appears that he had got up and left on his own ability some time later," he watched the older woman.
"I don't understand," Mrs. Best stared at the crumpled suit.
"That makes three of us," Brackenreid quipped. Murdoch made a face at his boss, who shrugged. Clearly he was thinking "well, it's true" but didn't say it. Brackenreid made a face back at the Detective.
"So where is Maxwell now?" Mrs. Best quickly asked.
"That's what we'd like to find out," Murdoch started. "We went to his office earlier and found an entry into his agenda book for a meeting he was having today at three o'clock with someone with the initials R.W." the Detective stated. "Would you happen to know who this is, and where?"
Mrs. Best thought for a moment, "I wouldn't have a clue. Maxwell rarely discusses his work with me, unless it involves the Temperance League," she stated.
Brackenreid turned away from the woman and rolled his eyes.
"What ever the meeting is about, must be an important one," Mrs. Best then said.
"How so?" Murdoch asked.
"Maxwell used his expensive cologne. I could smell it in the air when I came home," Mrs. Best pointed out as she stood and walked over to the bureau and picked up the small decorative crystal bottle, handing it to the Detective. Murdoch ran it under his nose and took a small sniff. It wasn't one that he would personally enjoy wearing, but to each his own. "Can we hold on to this?" he asked holding the little bottle out slightly.
"Whatever for?" Mrs. Best asked.
"I'd like to get fingermarks off this," Murdoch answered.
"Is Maxwell in some time of trouble?" Mrs. Best then asked, folding her arms across her chest. She was feeling that she'd had enough of the police for one day.
"That's what we're trying to find out, Madame," Brackenreid spoke up. "But first we need to collect as much information and evidence that will help us find him," he added.
Mrs. Best walked to the door, "Take the bottle and leave," she stated gruffly.
"I'll have a constable bring back the bottle when we're through," Murdoch said as he carefully wrapped the little bottle in a handkerchief and placed it in his suit coat pocket. The Inspector was the first out the door into the hall, quickly followed by the Detective. The two men made their way down the stairs to the front door. "This hasn't gotten us anywhere," Brackenreid said flatly.
Murdoch sighed as he opened the door and left the house, "Let's hope George has found something more about the shrunken head and that sack," he glanced at his boss. Brackenreid pulled his gold pocket watch from his waistcoat, and popped it open. "Bloody hell," he muttered. "I just knew this wasn't going to be a easy day," he said stuffing the watch back in the pocket. "Well, let's see what Crabtree's found," the Inspector snorted.
"Yes, let's," Murdoch agreed as he hailed a carriage.
