Scent of Blood

It was sticky, she realized. Glistening in the faint glow of the bedside lamp, the blood trailed from the open head wound to the floor. Beads of ruby-red blood formed a delicate web around the man's head. The woman stood, shaky at best, backing away from the corpse slumped on the floor. She couldn't remember what happened. The last night was hazy in her memory. It refused to come into the light of remembrance. Her hands managed to find the door. It opened without hesitation and she slipped out of the room, out of the house and into the night air.

x-X-x

D.I. Jack Robinson peered at the body, kneeling beside it to look more closely. At first glance it appeared straightforward enough. The body was positioned on the floor, slumped as if he had fallen due to the force of the blow to his head. Lost in his thoughts, Jack appeared not to notice an additional person enter the room. It was early in the day, the first thing on his desk this morning. He hated having to deal with cases of this nature first thing. Murder was never fun. He attempted to console himself with the fact that they had fingerprints all over the room. More likely than not, the killers prints would be amongst those they had found this morning. Despite this, he found his mind wandering to Miss Fisher. She would undoubtedly be here soon enough. Meddling in his murder inquiries. It was never straightforward with Phryne Fisher. Leave it to Miss Fisher to come along with a hair-brained theory to throw all the simplicity of investigation out the window. He was still kneeling beside the corpse when the women in question entered the room.

"You're late, Miss Fisher", Jack stood, turning to face Phryne. She swept into the room, appearing to take everything in at once. She never missed a thing despite not being able to stand still for more than a minute at a time. Miss Fisher was a whirlwind of constant motion and energy. This was something that never failed to amaze those around her, even Jack. It was easy to become taken with her after only meeting a few minutes prior.

"I'm never late. Everyone else is simply early", Phryne knelt next to the body, inches from where Jack had just been. "Blow to the head?" She queried, looking up at Jack, her head cocked slightly to the side.

"It would appear so" Jack took a few steps away from the body. Constable Hugh Collins hovered in the doorframe with his notebook. He coughed gently before beginning his primary report.

"I, eh, talked to the land lady downstairs sir. She said that the gentleman's name was –"

"Charles Rupert Davenport" announced Phryne. She stood, gaging the room and its modest contents.

"You know this man, Miss Fisher?" asked Collins. Thrown slightly off guard by this revelation, he looked to the Inspector questioningly. To be fair, he would never really get used to her constant announcements (or as he put them interruptions), no matter how useful the information.

"Knew. And yes, Constable, I knew OF the man" she stated simply. "He was well-known in Melbourne society as a patron of the fine arts".

"Ah, yes… Eh…" Collins consulted his notebook again, "She said that he had been here for the better part of a week. Paid in cash for the room, all in advance."

"Odd, considering he had a home not far from here. Quite the envy, I'm told" Phryne mused. She surveyed the room one last time before preparing to acquit it. Jack had half a mind to wait for her, but decided against it. He was better off getting back to the office to review the evidence and go over the statements with Collins then getting caught up with Miss Fisher. She would be in his office down at City South Constabulary in no time. To be honest, he rather enjoyed having her in his office. She seemed to bring a sort of fresh perspective to his investigations. Also, he hated to admit it, but she had a knack for uncovering the truth in the most unusual (and often illegal) ways. She pushed him to be better. Much as he disliked it, he had changed his perception of investigation.

"Collins, we'd best be getting back to the station" Jack said, walking briskly towards the young Constable. "Goodbye Miss Fisher". He gave a nod before turning away, ushering both the Constable and Miss Fisher out of the crime scene.

[A/N: Reviews are v. desirable. I have no idea exactly how this will play out, but you're more than welcome to come along for the ride! ]