Sorry, it's an Adelaide story again. I heard about a body discovered on a bus on a news bulletin. What if...
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Jean stared out of the window, hurt that he hadn't been there to, at least, see her off on her journey, at best persuade her to return, or even stay. But no, Dr Blake was, as usual, preoccupied. Then...
The bus lurched to a halt and the hiss of the doors opening caused her to look up...and gasp.
There he stood, one hand on the front seat, staring up the bus, right into her eyes. She shifted automatically so he could sit next to her, still unsure. Heads turned as he walked slowly but deliberately up to her seat, and sat next to her.
'Jean, I...'
'Don't say anything, not yet.' She murmured, so softly he barely heard her.
As he sat down the rustle of a paper behind them whistled through her thoughts, which were jumbled and heady and frightening, and at the same time exciting and intriguing and faintly daring. She chose to ignore whoever it was in the back seat and allowed him to hold her hand and draw it to him, while she leant her head on his shoulder and felt his cheek touch her head.
Heads had turned but she didn't care, no one in Ballarat would know that Dr Blake had followed his housekeeper and got on the bus to Adelaide; and if they did, well he may have business there.
There was the usual chatter as the bus rumbled on through the miles, but Jean and Lucien just sat there in their own little world. Jean dozed, comfortable against the warmth of him, the slight roughness of his suit, so familiar yet also strange. Lucien adjusted his position so his arm was round her shoulders and his hands could stroke her arm through the fabric of her dress. One he hadn't seen before, or had he, he didn't know; he was used to seeing her with an apron over whatever she was wearing or in her sensible pyjamas under the even more sensible pink robe, and that dratted hairnet. He supposed that was why her hair was always so neat, but there had been occasions when he had wondered what she would look like if she had abandoned it; curls tousled, out of place; in his imagination, utterly gorgeous.
The bus stopped at Horsham for the passengers to stretch their legs and use the facilities. Jean knew they should talk, but she didn't know how to start the conversation. Lucien had things he needed to tell her, about his mother, Doug and Jock Clement, but he too didn't know where to start. If Mattie had been there she'd have banged their heads together, so often had she been frustrated at the pair of them. Everyone else knew they were in love, the only people that didn't were the two, not quite, lovers!
Lucien was out of the men's room before Jean re-appeared. He bought two cups of tea and waited for her at a table in a corner. She couldn't see him at first as she scanned the room, briefly wondering if he'd decided against continuing the journey, then, there he was, waving her over. She sat down opposite him,
'Thank you.' She said simply, sipping the welcome drink, eyeing him over the rim of the tea cup.
'Jean...' he started, turning his cup around in the saucer, not looking at her, '...I'm sorry.' Well it was a start. '...for ignoring you, it was wrong of me.'
'Lucien, you were busy, the case was difficult.' She sounded understanding, and she did understand that for him it was more important that he solve the murder of his mother than worry about his more than capable housekeeper and her demanding family.
'That's no excuse, Jean.' He reached over and touched her hand, she didn't move it away, 'I should have made time for you. I realise it was difficult for you, to ask me to be guarantor, and I just left you to get on with things. You've helped me in the past, I should help you too.' At least that's what he thought he thought, or did he? 'I don't want you to go, but I suppose it's a bit late for that.'
'I'm, we're on the way to Adelaide, Lucien,' she pointed out, 'we can't turn back now. At least I can't. Christopher needs me, he's my son, Lucien.'
'I know, and he comes first. I have no claim on you, Jean.' He wanted to say he wished he did but he was afraid she would be angry.
'Five minutes!' the bus driver's voice cut through the chatter of the small cafe, and people started to gather their coats and bags and move back out to continue their journey.
'Are you coming to Adelaide?' Jean stood up, 'I don't know when the next bus back to Ballarat is.'
'I checked the timetable while you were in the bathroom, Adelaide for me, if that's ok with you.' He smiled, 'otherwise I'll be stuck here for three days, and I'd like to talk to you, properly. Away from home might be easier, fewer distractions.'
'Oh,' she thought she liked the idea, but, 'what about clothes, you haven't brought anything with you.'
'I'm sure I can pick some things up there, I'll find a hotel first.' He needed her to know he didn't expect to stay at her son's house, he wasn't sure how Christopher felt about him, anyway.
They joined the queue to board the bus, but just as Jean put her foot on the step there was a scream from inside the vehicle. She stepped aside to let Lucien on and he leapt up the steps and moved quickly passed standing passengers to the back of the bus. A woman was standing staring at the man who had been sitting behind the doctor and Jean. At first he appeared to be asleep, his head leaning against the window, his newspaper over his chest like a blanket, but it didn't take too long a look to realise the man was dead.
Lucien stepped forward touched the neck. Still warm, but it was a warm day, rigor hadn't set in, so he had been dead less than two hours. The rest stop was about half an hour, so had he died as they got off the bus, while they were moving, or just then? First he had to get the 'audience' out of the way, back into the cafe would be best. He turned round, someone had his arm round the woman who had found the body,
'I'd like everyone to go back inside the cafe, please.' He pulled himself to his full height, appearing to take charge.
Nobody argued, how could they? They certainly couldn't stay on the bus and hanging around outside wouldn't do anyone any good.
Jean watched everyone file back inside, muttering to each other, whispering. She went up the bus steps and stood by the driver's seat.
'Lucien?' She called softly up the bus.
'Jean,' he was swiftly by her side.
'Is there anything I can do?' She looked into his troubled face.
'Er...'
'Do you want me to phone the police?' She thought it would be best. They weren't in Ballarat. Horsham wasn't a place he was known.
'Thank you, Jean. That would be a good idea.' He turned away then turned back, 'an ambo too, he'll need to be taken to the mortuary.'
'I'll come back and tell you what they say,' and she was gone.
While he waited he looked around, noting there was nothing of much use. He tried to think if anyone else was on the back seat. There was a dent on the opposite side, as if someone had sat there. The police would need a list of passengers, he wouldn't be on it but that was by the by, he would explain why he was there, but he'd have to be careful and not embarrass Jean. He was lost in thought when her sweet voice broke his reverie.
'The police are on their way.' She told him, 'and an ambo. I told them you were the police surgeon in Ballarat, they may ask you to stay and help, they have a doctor they call on but he's away at the moment.'
'Thank you, Jean,' he touched her shoulder. 'Can you remember if there was anyone else on the back seat?'
'Hm...yes,' she tipped her head to one side and his heart leapt at the gesture, 'a woman. I don't think I'd recognise her face, though. She was wearing a brown coat, a bit thick for the time of year, and her hat had a brim which covered her face. She must have been very warm.'
'Right.' Lucien ran his hand over his head in thought. He leant over to the body, he'd wanted to lift the paper ever since he'd got to the scene. Now he did so, having Jean as a witness made him more comfortable.
'What do you see, Jean?' He looked closely.
'Not much, really.' She looked at the torso. then looked a little closer, 'what's that?' She pointed to a spot just under a button of the shirt, around the end of the breastbone.
Lucien peered at the spot and, using his handkerchief tried to move the shirt. It seemed to be stuck. He undid the adjacent button and found the end of a knitting needle pushed into the chest and up into the heart.
'Bloody hell,' he cursed, 'it's been pushed right up into the heart.'
'Why no blood?' Jean asked.
'It's right into the pericardial sac, he'd have bled internally.'
'Is that right, doctor?' A stranger's voice behind him made him stand up.
'Looks like it.' Lucien agreed. 'Dr Lucien Blake, Ballarat Police Surgeon.' He introduced himself.
'Chief Inspector McNally,' the man held out his hand. 'Madam?'
'This is Mrs Beazley, she's my secretary and receptionist.' Lucien thought that was enough information, but the Inspector raised his eyebrow.
'I'm seeing family in Adelaide, Dr Blake is taking some holiday after a trying case.' Jean knew what it looked like, but nothing could be done about that, it was the truth, anyway.
'Right.' McNally seemed unsure, but the doctor's private life was not the issue here. 'So, Dr Blake, I suppose you want to do an autopsy.'
'It would confirm my suspicions ' Lucien agreed. 'The passengers and driver are in the cafe.'
'Thank you, we need to speak to everyone.' McNally thought he liked the way the doctor had kept everything neat and tidy, obviously used to being in charge, he saw something of the military in him. He directed the ambos to take the body to the hospital morgue with Dr Blake and asked Jean to go and wait with the other passengers.
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Jean and Lucien both knew everybody would be spending the night in Horsham. The bus would be taken to be examined. Jean hoped they'd find another vehicle to continue the journey. She'd taken the opportunity to call Christopher after she'd called the police. Just a quick call to say she'd been delayed and would explain when she got there. Christopher had been less than impressed. Jean hoped there would be a hotel they could stay in, and what about Lucien's luggage; she supposed she would have to sort that out too. The advantage of being his housekeeper and doing his laundry was that she knew what size clothing he wore!
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McNally had brought three officers with him and they set about interviewing the passengers. individually. McNally interviewed Jean and she told him what she had told Lucien, about the woman in the corner, but, no, she couldn't see her in the cafe. Jean took the opportunity to ask if they were being kept in Horsham overnight, and if so would it be alright if she went and organised accommodation for the doctor and herself. As his secretary it was one of her duties.
'Hm...' McNally looked at her. It was true there was no way for them to continue their journey and this woman had been assisting the doctor when he got there.
'Toms!' He called over to another officer. 'Take Mrs Beazley over to the Royal Hotel and see if they can accommodate these passengers. Take a passenger list with you.'
'Sir.' The officer left his interviewing and went over to him. McNally indicated he wanted a quiet word.
'This lady is the doctor's secretary, she needs to see that he has everything. You can leave her at the hotel, she can make their arrangements. Give her the number of the morgue.' He turned to Jean, 'is there anything else the doctor will want?'
'There were some things he was going to get in Adelaide. Would it be alright if I purchased them here in Horsham?' Jean asked.
'I don't see why not, but can I have my officer back?' McNally agreed.
'Yes, I'll be fine.' Jean smiled her thanks.
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The hotel was more than happy to fill up its rooms, it being rather quiet at the time. Toms left Jean to sort out hers and Lucien's rooms and left the passenger list with the proprietor. Jean quietly asked for adjoining rooms. The doctor would need to confer with her, and have her take notes. She was shown to two rooms on the top floor, both large and airy, with a bathroom separating them. Her luggage was still on the bus with everybody else's and she had asked Toms to ensure that it was all brought over to the hotel. The passengers would need their things. Rooms sorted she left the hotel with the keys and went to sort out some clothes for Lucien. She had her loan money in her handbag, she would have to use some of that and Lucien could pay her back later.
She found a gents outfitters and bought him enough for two days, including pyjamas and a robe. A chemist provided a toothbrush and toothpaste, disposable razors and soap.
Back in his hotel room she unpacked everything for him then went to ring the morgue.
'Hello, Jean.' She could hear his smile in his voice.
'Lucien, how's the autopsy going?' Somehow everything seemed so weirdly normal; her sorting out accommodation for him, and her, and then checking up on his work.
'It's as I thought, knitting needle into the pericardial sac.' Lucien told her, 'how goes it with the interviews?'
'Well, I've been allowed to leave the cafe. One of the officers arranged rooms in the Royal Hotel, you're in room twenty three, I'm in twenty five. We're separated by a bathroom. I've bought you some clothes, enough to last a couple of days. Is that alright?'
'Oh, Jean.' He heaved a sigh of relief, 'that's marvellous, thank you. When we meet tell me how much I owe you. I need to do the report for McNally then I should be over. There may be a portion of a finger print on the needle so you should have yours taken, just for elimination purposes.'
'Right, that's fine. It's not one of mine, they're in my suitcase. What number was it?' She asked.
'Er,' she heard him turn pages, 'two. Why?'
'Just wondered. It's a bit small for me, my knitting uses a larger size.'
'Right.' She could hear the thinking in his voice. 'So am I safe?'
'Well, now I know how to do a clean kill...' She laughed, 'of course. Why would I waste a perfectly good knitting needle on you?'
'Phew. I was beginning to wonder if I should lock myself in the study when you're knitting.'
'Not today,' She laughed at him. 'Will I see you for dinner, it's between five-thirty and seven?'
'Should see you sooner.' He said goodbye and she put the receiver down. She was about to leave the booth when she suddenly realised their friends in Ballarat would have no idea where he was. She'd better ring Mattie.
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'Dr Blake's surgery.' Mattie answered the phone, glad of someone to talk to, it was eerily quiet without Jean.
'Mattie, it's Jean.' Jean smiled, glad it wasn't Charlie she was speaking to, it would be easier to talk to the girl.
'Oh, where are you?' Mattie hadn't expected to hear from her, not yet anyway.
'Horsham. There's been a murder on the bus.' Jean sighed.
'Do you want Lucien, only I'm not sure where he is?' Mattie looked round, half expecting the doctor to appear at her side.
'He's here. He got on the bus.' Jean went slightly pink at this, 'tell Matthew he's taking some leave, well, when he's finished this case.'
'Jean,' Mattie sounded suspicious, 'what are you two up to?'
'Nothing, Mattie really!' Jean gasped at her friend's thoughts, 'he got on the bus and wanted to talk. But that's irrelevant. I just wanted to let you and Matthew know he's alright and will be on leave, so would you mind organising a locum for the surgery and asking Matthew to organise a police surgeon.'
'Yes, I can do that.' Mattie could see there was no point in pressing the point, she'd find out sooner or later, what was going on. She just hoped they wouldn't do anything rash!
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So will they be 'rash?' Will they just solve the murder and continue on to Adelaide?
Reviews and comments welcome as always.