Chapter 1: Unease

George Crabtree walked into the apartment with a slower stride than usual. He tossed his hat onto the rack and ran a hand through his hair, as though trying to shake off the weight of the day. From the kitchen came the comforting smell of tea and the sound of a voice that instantly lifted his mood.

"Just in time," Effie called from behind the doorframe, smiling. "The tea's just brewed."

"Perfect," George sighed. "I don't know what I'd do without you, darling."

He walked over and kissed her cheek, then sat down at the table, closing his eyes for a moment to let himself relax. Effie set a teacup in front of him and sat across the table, watching him closely.

"Tough day?" she asked, though she already knew the answer.

George sighed and stared at the teacup in front of him for a moment.

"Not exactly tough, more… strange," he said, looking up at his wife. "And a bit… unsettling."

Effie's expression turned serious. She rested her elbows on the table, her gaze sharpening, as if she sensed there was more beneath his words.

"Is it about work?"

George shook his head and lowered his voice a little.

"For a while now… Detective Murdoch has been spending a lot of time with Tippy Longfellow," he began, speaking cautiously.

"Who?" Effie frowned.

"A neighbour. She moved in across from him when he relocated. Younger, quite talkative. Works at the post office. Loves mysteries, gossip—anything sensational. And apparently," he hesitated, "she's taken quite a shine to Detective Murdoch."

"And he doesn't mind?"

"I'm not sure, Effie. He says she's just helping him with a case. She's the one who brought him the lead in the first place—she dragged him into it. But today…" George trailed off, picking up his cup and taking a sip of tea.

"There was a murder at a hotel," he went on. "When I showed up, I found them together - Detective Murdoch and Miss Longfellow."

"Together? As in… together how?"

George looked at her uncertainly.

"She was standing close to him, like she'd just gotten out of bed. In her nightgown, hair a mess… smiling. It looked…" He paused. "It looked like they were a couple. Or at least that's how anyone walking in could've taken it."

"You've got to be kidding."

"I wish I were. Detective Murdoch told me they were in the next room to eavesdrop on a suspect."

"That was his idea?" Effie asked, raising a brow.

"No," George said, grimacing a bit. "Miss Longfellow's. Detective Murdoch said she wanted it to seem 'more believable,' so she dressed the part…"

Effie shook her head in disbelief.

"And nothing else happened?"

"They stood there like it was the most normal thing in the world."

"And?"

"He explained what was going on—that it was just a stakeout, nothing more. But…" George shook his head. "I don't know. The whole scene just felt… strange."

Effie frowned.

"You think that…"

"I don't think William's done anything. But her? She clearly admires him. And I'm pretty sure she wants something more."

Effie leaned back from the table.

"That doesn't sound like just work," she said quietly.

George nodded.

"That's exactly why I'm worried. William's always been devoted to Julia. I've seen how much they went through to finally be together. And now… she's over there, he's here… and Miss Longfellow seems very… persistent."

Effie's hands tightened.

"Julia should come back," she said softly. "Family is more important than a career."

George glanced at her sidelong.

"You're the one who encouraged her to go."

"I know," she admitted. "And I really regret it now."

Effie sighed, her gaze darkening.

"I told her a woman has a right to her career, that Detective Murdoch would understand. Maybe he would… but now I see just how far apart they've grown."

"Maybe it's not too late," George said. "If she knew what was happening here…"

Effie fell silent for a moment, looking past his shoulder at something beyond the kitchen wall. There was a flicker of pain in her eyes.

George gently took her hand.

"They love each other, Effie. They always have. But love… needs you to actually be there."

Effie nodded slowly, then straightened, meeting her husband's gaze with a new resolve.

"I'm not going to let it all fall apart just because I once gave her bad advice."

She paused, then went on, "Tomorrow morning, I'll send her a telegram. She needs to hear about Miss Longfellow, and how William's drifting."

George exhaled softly, relieved.

"You're doing the right thing, Effie."

He hesitated, looking at her.

"You think it'll help?" he asked quietly.

Without missing a beat, Effie nodded.

"If she still cares," she said, "she'll come back. And at least I'll be doing what I should've done from the start: helping them stay together."