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The first William Murdoch knew that anything being amiss was when Doctor Grace burst into the bullpen of Station House 4, gasping about three murders. He was so accustomed to seeing an unflappable Doctor Grace that the wild look in her eye threw him more than her words.
“Why is this the first I’m hearing of it?” boomed Inspector Brackenreid from his office door. “Why has no one informed us?”
“I’m informing you now," she huffed, hands planted firmly on her hips, some of her more familiar spark returning.
“Very well,” he acquiesced, gruffly. “Where are the bodies now?”
When she named the island, Brackenreid shook his head.
“Not in our jurisdiction, I’m afraid.”
“I don’t think it’s in anyone’s jurisdiction, Sir,” Murdoch said.
“Well, we best deal with it ourselves then, hadn’t we! Murdoch, Crabtree, Higgins, you’re with me. Doctor Grace, do you feel up to leading us there?”
“Of course,” she replied, though with less of her usual confidence.
William noted that while Crabtree hastened to comply with the Inspector’s instructions, he was silent during the entire exchange, no doubt wondering whether it would be prudent or embarrassing to show his concern to the woman who had left him for another. William fell into similar emotions at Doctor Grace’s next words.
“Julia is still there. She opted to stay with Rose, Rose Maxwell. She’s the one who committed these awful crimes.”
Brackenreid eyed Murdoch for a few moments, but when nothing was forthcoming, he spoke up. “And Doctor Ogden is alright?”
“As well as can be expected. She’s physically unharmed, if that’s what you mean.”
The journey by boat to the island took a little under an hour, during which time Dr Grace recounted the horrors of her weekend. William noted that Crabtree looked particularly aghast, and the Inspector did a good job of looking after the doctor, albeit gruffly. There was none of her usual wide-eyed excitement. Instead, her eyes darted around while her voice trembled as she spoke.
To think that Julia was still on the island with such a violent woman as Miss Maxwell set him on edge. Yet, like George, he remained silent; rejection had lost them both the right to show undue concern.
The boat docked and its passengers unloaded, William fought against the urge to run to the cabin, having to remind himself that Julia had turned down his proposal so likely would not welcome his presence. On the boat ride, Emily had made some odd, cryptic remark that Julia was also hurting, but William dismissed this as irrelevant. If she had wanted to marry him, she would have said yes. Her answer perfectly demonstrated her feelings.
Under different circumstances he might have considered the rustic, dark wood cabin set into a clearing of trees to be pleasant. Yet the place had become tainted with Doctor Grace’s stories of the horrors that had unfolded there. Besides, his attention was captured by the figure outside the building. Even at that distance, he knew it to be Julia.
As they drew closer, he could make out her form more clearly. A shotgun was gripped in two hands, and she stood firm, fierce, yet as they came closer still, he could make out the exhaustion in her features and the uncharacteristically unkempt nature of her appearance. His heart hurt for her, yet he steeled his resolve and held back, letting Inspector Brackenreid and Doctor Grace approach her first. She had rejected him, he reminded himself yet again. He needed to harden his heart against her, do his job with the utmost professionalism and ignore all feelings.
She nodded when Doctor Grace asked about Rose’s whereabouts and gestured towards the cabin.
“You won’t be needing that anymore,” Brackenreid said, encouraging Julia to hand over the gun.
The party advanced towards the cabin, led by Julia, except that once they reached the door the Inspector laid a hand on her arm, holding her back so he could enter first. William was the last to enter, stopping short at the horror before him. Shattered glass, splintered wood, upturned furniture. And blood… So much blood. Amidst this was the woman he could only assume to be Rose Maxwell. She was tied to a chair, blood smeared on her cheeks and hands and dress. Yet that was not the worst of it. She glared hatefully, practically coiled to pounce, alternating her fierce attention between Julia and Doctor Grace. Closest to him was the younger doctor, who stared back mutely with wide eyes, her arms wrapped tightly around her body. A hand on her elbow, William drew her away, back towards the wall nearest the door.
Doctor Grace drew in a shuddering breath. “I’m alright, Detective.”
Brackenreid eyed them, then took charge once more. “Right, Higgins take Doctor Grace outside. Perhaps she can show you where the that rogue brother lives. Question him if you find him. Crabtree, you and I will deal with everything in here.” He turned to William who suppressed a cringe; he knew what was coming. “Murdoch, go with Doctor Ogden and have a look at the bodies.”
The Inspector likely meant well, but forcing William to spend time with Julia was exactly the opposite of what he needed. Nevertheless, he responded with a dutiful ‘Sir’, while Julia pointed to a bloodied axe propped up in the corner.
“May I take the axe? I’m fairly certain it was the weapon used in all three murders, but I’d like to be sure.”
“Certainly, Doctor.” Brackenreid nodded.
Mindful of finger marks, she wrapped a towel around the handle before lifting it. She looked to William.
“Doctor.” William nodded to her, his face blank and tone even as he motioned to the door.
She’d expected a painful encounter, but the sheer lack of emotion floored Julia momentarily. She turned to blink back her tears, and led the way outside and into the woods, knowing by his footfalls crunching the dried leaves that he was following her. With no words from him forthcoming, and wishing to avoid the painful topic of his failed proposal, Julia opted to describe the events of the previous few days. The beginning seemed to be a good place to start, so she commenced recounting how the six women knew each other, namely that Lavinda was engaged to Rose’s brother, Cedric, and that the women were all members of the Dominion Women’s Enfranchisement Association. Part way through outlining the tragic fate of Rose's family on the island, she was interrupted by an impatient utterance of her name.
Spending so much time with George, William usually had much more patience for an off-topic story, but his tolerance for Julia was already worn rather thin, without her spinning an irrelevant yarn. It seems she isn't much affected by our separation... “Is this really pertinent to the case? Please stick to facts rather than gruesome fairy tales.”
“I would hardly be telling you if it wasn’t relevant,” she snapped, her anger rising to mask her hurt, a familiar defence mechanism against being belittled by men, although she'd rarely before been faced with such treatment from William. “May I continue?”
William nodded wordlessly, his expression frosty, yet inside he was roiling. She rejected him. Yet she had the temerity to be angry with him! It took all his discipline to focus on her tale.
For her part, Julia silently wondered if this was how it would be between them. If she couldn’t defeat James Gilles and release them from his threats, would William forevermore treat her coldly and with contempt? Could she handle that? And really, was there any chance she could enact a change? It had been such a close thing with Rose, and that was with Emily’s help. Rose, who didn’t have the cunning and intelligence of Gilles. Gilles, who had escaped prison, escaped William Murdoch. And there was Julia, attempting to do battle with him alone. But I must, she resolved. Or else William and I will never be reconciled.
They arrived at the structure, which William assumed to be the icehouse, as Julia’s story reached the point at which she and Emily overcame a violent Rose. William had to admit that her experience was certainly harrowing, and he couldn’t help but be amazed at how collected she had been throughout her monologue. It appeared that his feelings for her were as strong as ever, as he ached to reach out to her. Outwardly, he refused to demonstrate any this for fear of further rejection and humiliation.
She led him down the wooden steps into the icehouse. The chill crept up her legs to encompass her whole body, just as the light became dimmer the further she stepped inside. She suppressed a shudder. It took a lot to force herself to keep descending, unable to prevent the images from the night before from invading her.
“We brought Lavinda down here first, then Diane.” She gestured to the two forms slumped over a table, both with large, bloodied gashes in their backs. “Emily and I moved Josephine here this morning. This seemed the best place to allow preservation of the bodies, and Emily and I were able to begin our examinations.”
William nodded, silently brushing past her as he first blessed himself and then lifted each sheet in turn to survey Julia’s unfortunate friends. The third victim was the most gruesome; her head crudely decapitated from her body, still sat upon a food platter. It was William’s turn to suppress a shudder when he again imagined Julia and Doctor Grace trapped on the island with such a violent killer. “And what did you find?” he enquired. Despite himself, his voice lost much of its hardness, though he was far from relaxed with her.
“Well I…” she hesitated, forcing herself to focus on her response. Being back down in the confined space brought back the terror of the previous night. She suddenly found herself short of breath and had to consciously force out her words in as steady a tone as she could muster. “I didn’t have chance to complete my investigation.”
“Oh?” he muttered, still not facing Julia.
“Yes, you see,” she swallowed. Her eyes caught sight of the doll she had found the night before. She flinched and had to fight not to let the fear overtake her again. “You see, Emily went back to the cabin to fetch some more light. And someone locked me down here. The oil ran out, so it was… It was so very dark.” She bit her lip, her attention once more drawn to the child’s toy.
A note of distress in Julia’s voice eventually prompted William to turn. He was faced with a Julia he rarely saw. A Julia with tears in her eyes while her hands twisted before her. “Julia-”
“It- It brought back all the memories of what Gilles did to me,” she gasped and rushed on, her voice becoming higher and her speech rushed. “I found a doll.” She bent to retrieve it, clutching it with white-knuckled fingers, twisting desperately at its skirt. “I thought Gilles was here, that he was the one killing everyone. That I would be next!”
“But Julia,” he attempted to placate through his confusion. “Gilles is gone.”
“He’s not!”
“Julia-”
She interrupted him with gasping, shrill words. “I thought he’d trapped me down here like before, like when he buried me.” The tears were overflowing now, and her chest heaved with breaths she couldn’t quite take.
He stepped towards her then, grasping her elbows and feeling the trembling in her frame. “Julia, he’s gone.”
“He’s back!” The panic made her reckless, pushing out the truth. “He’s tormenting me again! Oh, William,” she gasped, clutching at him. “I couldn’t- I can’t breathe.”
William took action immediately, bodily steering her up the steps, murmuring reassurances to her all the time. Her short, hurried breathing sent his own heart thundering, yet he forced himself to portray an outward demeanour of calm. He guided her to a tree and lowered her to sit against it, working his hand between her rigid fingers clamped around his lapels until she grasped his hands instead. She’d somehow retained her hold on the doll during their journey, and he tossed it aside for now. Her eyes, wide, wild and tear-filled, locked on his as if pleading with him to help her. “You’re alright, Julia. Just breathe slowly.” In brushing his thumbs across her knuckles in a slow and soothing manner, and uttering reassurances, he hoped to impart some calm. “You’re safe now.”
After long minutes of gasping breaths and William’s gentle reassurances, eventually, Julia’s breathing did slow. She extricated a trembling hand from his and dashed away some tears, her cheeks regaining colour to burn fiercely with embarrassment. “I do apologise, William. I don’t know what came over me.”
“You’ve had quite an ordeal,” he soothed. He stayed crouched before her, steadily holding her watery gaze. All hurt from his thwarted proposal was temporarily pushed aside. “It brought back memories of a previous terrifying situation. But, Julia, Gilles is gone. We know this.” He rocked back to draw away from her. She’s fine, he reasoned. The only reason she accepted my comfort was because she panicked.
Her fingers clawed at his jacket, stilling him. “He’s back,” she rasped, and her voice regained upset at her next words. “I’ve been receiving threats from him.”
William was immediately horrified. “Threats? From Gilles?”
“Yes.” She held him with a fierce gaze, anguish in her expression. “He said that if we marry, then you will die.”
It took a moment for the information to penetrate, then everything fell into place, especially her unexpected behaviour. “So that’s why you turned down my proposal.” At her nod, he frowned. “Why not tell me?”
“Because if I did, he would kill us both! Don’t you see, William? Life without you, it’s worse than death!” She descended once more into tears.
Finally understanding that her rejection did not stem from lack of love, he immediately sat beside her, pulling her tightly against him. “Listen to me.” He lowered his head so he could catch her eye, his gaze fierce. “When we’re together, you and I are stronger than anything.” He pressed his lips to her mound of blonde curls. “We’ll solve this, together, just like we’ve solved everything else.”
She nodded, his conviction already working to instil some confidence in her. “I am sorry, William. I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you. I’m sorry that I turned down your proposal.”
“You were in an untenable situation, there is no need to apologise. What’s important is that now we can face this together. The two of us will go somewhere safe while we work out what to do.”
After a while, William felt Julia relax against him. Neither paid any heed to the fallen leaves and dusty earth upon which they sat, rather, they relished the comfort that came from a firm embrace. Content to let her rest a while longer, he reached behind her and picked up the doll she had found. It’s just a doll, he decided after examining it. There was no message in it, nothing to make it look like Julia. It was merely an unhappy coincidence that she’d found it.
Before either were truly ready, Julia roused and rose. Dusting off her beige skirt, she strode with determination back into the icehouse.
“Are you sure, Julia?” William asked, following her. “You don’t have to do this.”
“No, I do. I owe it to them,” she replied with a calm voice, remarkable really, considering what she had endured. “I owe it to them. Telling you has helped, William, at least a little. Gilles no longer seems like such an undefeatable monster.”
So, she set to work. First, she compared the bloodied gashes with the axe, concluding that it was the likely weapon in all three murders. From the angles of entry, she determined that Rose’s first two victims were seated when they were attacked. Lavinda had likely been sitting on the dock, and Diane on the chair in the middle of the woods, though how she came to be there was anyone’s guess. Julia articulated that there were no defensive marks, suggesting that all three likely (and hopefully) had no idea what was to befall them.
William looked on admiringly, marvelling at what she’d been through, and how she had bounced back from her near breakdown to be able to conduct her analyses with professionalism and composure.
Once Julia had finished her examinations, William gestured towards the stairs, stating that he would ask the constables to carry the bodes to the boat.
Despite her assurance to William that she was okay, Julia was not sorry to leave the icehouse and its confined space. The acrid, metallic smell of blood was replaced by the earthy scent of the forest, and she took a deep, steadying breath. They both relished the ability to walk arm-in-arm once again, both so very grateful to be beside each other after a short period of separation.
“You are not the only one who has had an eventful few days,” he spoke, leading her around a fallen tree.
“Oh? Do tell, William.”
“I have been curling.”
“Curling?” She giggled, incredulously. He constantly surprised her with his talents, but she would never have imagined him taking up such a sport. “And just how did this come about?”
“It seems Emily has taken a shine to Leslie Garland. Poor George encountered him at a bar, and for some reason drunkenly challenged him to a curling match. The Inspector, Jackson and Higgins were roped in. And let me tell you, they made for a sorry sight.”
“Until you saved the day.” She grinned teasingly.
He levelled her with one of his usual looks, gently scolding and not entirely successful in hiding is amusement. “Not quite. However, I did observe some interesting mechanics of the game.” He proceeded to outline his theory of friction and direction of the stone to her. Unlike Crabtree and Brackenreid, she followed with rapt attention, nodding in understanding.
“So, the further one travels from the hack before releasing the stone, the more control one has over the stone.”
“Precisely!” He snapped his fingers and grinned at her with pride. His earlier words to Crabtree were accurate; she is the one for me.
“And I assume that you created a clever device to assist the players in this endeavour?”
“Well, I did devise soles made from carbon-free chromium. They can be affixed to any shoe and allow the player to slide rather far.”
“How ingenious, William! You must teach me how to play,” she paused, and her countenance darkened. “If we’re ever free again.”
“When.” He stopped and grasped her hands, holding them as firmly as his words. “When we’re free. We’ll tell the Inspector, and together we’ll figure out how to solve this. Now,” he continued, “I must warn you; the Inspector knows about my, ah, proposal.”
She lowered her eyes. “And how I rejected you.”
His fingers tightened round hers. “Which was why he sent the two of us off alone. I suspect he hoped we might reconcile.” He nudged her. “It seems he was right.”
“Emily will no doubt be saying ‘I told you so’, too.” She resumed walking, explaining how the other doctor had urged her to tell William the truth. “But we mustn’t let anyone except the Inspector know. We cannot risk Gilles finding out, William.”
Although the boat used to ferry the members of Station House 4 to the island was larger than the rowing boat used by the six friends, it still wasn’t large enough for an inspector, a detective, two constables, two doctors, a murderer, three bodies and the bachelorette party’s luggage. Brackenreid thus ordered the constables to take the first trip with the bodies, and Doctor Grace opted to join them so she could organise the transfer to the bodies to the morgue. Crabtree looked aghast at this, but Brackenreid sternly directed him to the boat.
“Right, you pair,” Brackenreid boomed, turning to Julia and William as soon as the boat left the docks. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you, but you have two hours to sort it out before the boat returns.”
“Actually, Inspector,” Julia replied, slipping an arm into William’s, which was immediately noted by the older man. “We have something we must discuss with you.”
Julia had to admit, hashing out a plan with William and the Inspector improved her spirits tremendously. William was already proving to be correct; together, they really were stronger than anything.
Still, she needed some reassurance. “Everything will be alright, won’t it?”
“Of course, Doctor. With me and my Bugalugs here on the job, we’ll catch him in no time.”
William’s assurance was a squeeze of her hand, unseen by the Inspector, which she returned.
“But we must pretend we’re still estranged when we return to Toronto, lest Gilles chooses to exact his revenge,” Julia cautioned.
“I imagine you want a bit of time to yourselves then. I’ll be on the dock whilst you two, ah, canoodle.” Brackenreid began walking away, and yelled over his shoulder, “I’ll holler when the boat returns.”
Julia giggled at the cringe on William’s face and took him once more by the hand. “Come on, Detective. We have some making up to do.”
Fin