All Fun And Games Until Somebody Breaks a Leg
By Firebird
Rating: PG
...
Detective Inspector Jack Robinson tried hard to concentrate on the file in front of him, detailing the most recent developments in a complicated counterfeiting case, but it wasn't easy. Something was nagging at the back of his mind, a sense of something not quite right. He sat back in his chair and thought for a moment.
Around him, the sounds of the station followed their familiar rhythms: booted feet in the hallway, male voices made indistinct by the walls, the ring of a telephone, a shout from someone in the cells demanding freedom or a cigarette or just wanting to make a nuisance of themselves. There was nothing that shouldn't have been there, but at the same time there was something missing.
"Constable Collins?"
The younger man stuck his head around the door. "Yes sir?"
"Have we seen Miss Fisher lately? The station seems unusually peaceful."
"No sir. She broke her leg in a motorcycle accident last week. She's laid up at home."
"She broke her leg?" Jack straightened in his chair. "Is she alright?"
An expression of worried confusion crossed Collins' face, as it sometimes did when he was faced with a question that he wasn't sure he could answer correctly. "No, sir. She has a broken leg."
"Apart from that?"
"Uh, according to Dot she has some cuts and scrapes, but mainly she's just bored with being stuck at home." He smiled. "You know Miss Fisher."
"Indeed I do." Confined to bed. Phryne would hate that. Well, he amended, with no choice in the matter and in the absence of male company, she would hate that.
"Will that be all sir?"
"Uh, yes. Thank you Collins."
...
He left work early, and stopped by a florist's stall on his way. Flowers would be acceptable under the circumstances, although it was difficult to know what to choose. Roses might send the wrong message, but beyond that he was unversed in the language of flowers. In the end he settled for a mixed bunch of bright blooms.
He rang the bell, and cleared his throat as he waited for her door to open.
"Good evening sir." It was a relief to be greeted by the discreet Mr. Butler rather than Dot, who might well have misinterpreted both his arrival and the flowers.
"Good evening. I heard Miss Fisher had been injured. I was wondering whether she might see me."
"Come on in, sir."
He hung his coat and hat on the stand in the hallway before checking his reflection in the mirror while the butler went to announce his arrival. He was straightening his tie when the man returned.
"Inspector Robinson? Miss Fisher will see you in the living room"
Phryne was lying on a chaise longue, one leg encased in plaster and propped up on a pillow. A nasty scrape was healing on her cheek and chin, and her eyes lacked some of their usual sparkle, although they lit up as he entered.
"Jack! How good to see you. Are those for me?"
"They are indeed." He held the flowers out to her as he approached, but couldn't help but notice a large bouquet of red roses on the mantelpiece, and an even larger arrangement of white lilies in the corner. He felt embarrassed, suddenly, by his own small offering. "But I'm afraid they can't compete with what you already have."
"Nonsense." She buried her nose in them. "The roses are from a frankly rather ghastly young man who doesn't yet seem to have understood the implausibility of my being out every time he's called this week, and the lilies make me think of funerals. These are much more my thing. Mr. Butler," she raised her voice, calling to the man who was already returning with a vase, "take care of these for me, won't you?"
"Of course, Miss."
Jack couldn't help but notice the way her fingers lingered on the bouquet as the butler took them from her, but turned his attention back to Phryne as she addressed him again.
"Do you have to leave right away, or do you have time for a cup of tea?"
"Tea would be lovely, if it's not an imposition."
She laughed. "Oh, I'm going mad with boredom lying here all day. I'll ring for Dot, and you can tell me tales of murder and mayhem while she brings us something to drink."
He took a seat in an armchair placed nearby, presumably to accommodate visitors, while his host rang a small silver bell on the table beside her.
"Yes Miss?" Dot appeared in the doorway. If Phryne seemed to have lost some of her sparkle, Dot looked positively wrung out. No doubt her mistress was being the world's most difficult patient.
"Would you bring us some tea please, and perhaps a couple of those biscuits you were baking earlier?"
"Of course Miss." She smiled at Jack. "I hope you can stay a while, Inspector. Miss Fisher could use the company." 'And I could use the respite', lingered unspoken in her eyes.
He smiled back at her. "Well, I'll do my best."
Dot left to make the tea, and for a moment Jack and Phryne just looked at each other in silence. It occurred to him quite suddenly that, for all the time they spent together, they were seldom without a case to discuss.
"So," he broke the silence, "A motorcycle accident. What on earth induced you to get on one of those things?"
She shrugged. "It looked like fun. And," she smiled impishly, "It was."
"Right up until you crashed and broke your leg."
"Well, yes, but these things happen. Nothing ventured, nothing gained."
"The word 'caution' just isn't in your vocabulary, is it?"
He knew he was being harsh, but he couldn't help it. Seeing her lying there, apparently unconcerned by the injuries she had sustained in yet another madcap escapade, irked him.
"Why Inspector, I didn't realise how much you cared."
"Of course I bloody care! You are without a doubt the most foolhardy, reckless, devil-may-care woman I've ever met, and if it hasn't occurred to you that you're likely to get yourself killed, it certainly has to me."
She stared up at him as he stood over her, apparently speechless for once. A small sound drew his attention to Dot, standing stunned in the doorway with a tea-tray in her hands, and he remembered himself.
"My apologies, Miss Fisher, I had no right to raise my voice to you, much less use strong language."
She was silent for a moment, looking at him, and he swallowed nervously. She would be well within her rights to ask him to leave after such a shocking outburst, and the sound of her butler's swift footsteps in the hallway suggested that he was on his way to do exactly that, should his mistress desire it.
"Oh, I've heard far worse. Sit down and drink your tea. Dot?"
"Yes Miss." Her young companion served the tea, shooting wary glances at him the whole time. He looked at Phryne, but spoke as much to Dot as to her.
"I really am very sorry."
"And you're forgiven. Just don't let it happen again: I really don't appreciate having men raise their voices to me." Her tone was light, but there was a note of warning in it, and the gaze she levelled at him was steely. He nodded acceptance. It was a line he wouldn't cross again in a hurry. He cleared his throat as Dot quietly left the room.
"So, the station seems almost peaceful without you."
"Does that mean you miss me?"
"Well, I wouldn't go that far, but I will admit you bring a certain unique quality to my investigations."
"So you do miss me."
He chuckled slightly. "Alright, yes, I miss you. But if Constable Collins asks, I'll deny I ever said it."
"Of course. So, are you working on anything interesting at the moment?"
He started to explain the counterfeiting case to her, trying to lay things out logically and anticipate her questions in order to avoid too many interruptions, but broke off suddenly. "Oh, I don't believe it!"
"I take it you've only just realised they're using the Chinese grocery carts to transport the newly-forged currency?"
"How could I have missed that?"
"Quite easily. The trucks made more sense. In fact, the counterfeiters may even have counted on using them as a red herring to misdirect any police investigation."
"I'll need to put my men on it tomorrow." He smiled. "How is it that even with a broken leg you somehow manage to help me solve a case?"
She smiled smugly at him. "Because, like it or not Jack Robinson, I'm one of the best detectives you know."
He cast around for something else to say rather than admit that he agreed with her. "These biscuits are good."
"Yes, Dot's quite the cook."
"Your flowers, Miss." Mr. Butler arrived in the doorway, Jack's gift now artfully arranged in an elegant vase. He had to admit, the butler's attentions had elevated them almost to the level of the other arrangements in the room.
"Over here, where I can admire them." Phryne lifted several books from the table beside her, and looked around uncertainly for somewhere to put them. Jack took them from her hands without comment.
"Very good, Miss." The butler placed the flowers on the table, bowed slightly, and left.
Phryne moved a few more items around on the table, then reached for her books. "Thank you, Jack."
"I take it you do like them, then? The flowers." He was aware that he sounded like an anxious boy looking for approval, but she had that effect on him at times. The smile she turned on him was soft, the one she used in those rare moments when they were in a state of harmony rather than the usual low-level conflict which acted as a safety-valve for other, more dangerous, feelings.
"They're beautiful. They make me remember what it's like to be outside instead of shut up in here."
He suppressed a smile. "It's only been a week."
"With at least three more to go. Do you know what Mac's done?" He shook his head. "Turned my entire household against me. Even Burt and Cec refuse to be prevailed upon to assist me in escaping from my sickbed."
"Well, perhaps once she grants you parole you'll allow me to take you for a drive." He was surprised to hear himself making the offer, but it was worth it for her smile.
"I'm sure with you to look after me, she'll be willing to consider it. She thinks you're a 'good influence'."
"Well I certainly won't be letting you get on any motorcycles."
She stuck her tongue out. "Spoilsport."
"It's all part of the job." He glanced at the clock. "Speaking of which, I should be going. I have some counterfeiters to arrest tomorrow."
"Of course." She rang her bell. "Do be sure to stop by and let me know how the case works out."
He nodded, rising. "I'll do that."
Dot returned and, seeing him preparing to leave, waited by the door to show him out. He turned to Phryne.
"Good evening, Miss Fisher."
She offered him her hand and, to his own surprise, he took it, bowed low over it, and kissed it gently.
"Good evening, Inspector. It's been a pleasure."
"For me as well." He met her eye. "Try to get some rest. The station just isn't the same without you."