Chapter Two

Phryne hadn't got to bed until almost two – the dancing at the Green Mill had been such fun – so when Mr Butler tapped gently on the door just after eight a.m., the whine that instructed him to go away and come back tomorrow was understandable.

"I'm sorry, Miss – it's the Inspector on the telephone. He apologised, and said that if it wasn't urgent he wouldn't have called."

The word "Inspector" got an eye open. The rest of the speech had her sitting up and reaching for her robe.

"Avert your eyes, Mr B," she advised. "This won't be pretty."

Her factotum chuckled and led the way down the stairs; the lady of the house stumbled after him.

"Jack, darling? What's the matter? WHAT?! Again?! However do you do it? Were you this felonious before we met? I'm sorry, darling, I'll stop teasing. What do I have to do to get you out? Hang on."

She covered the mouthpiece to protect the ears of the detainee on the other end of the line and yelled for Mr B.

"Please can you look in the second drawer of the desk, Mr Butler? You're looking for an envelope marked Official Documents. Got it?" She uncovered the mouthpiece again. "Got it. What do you need, Jack? Promotion letter and passport? Okeydoke, we've found them. Oh, Hugh as well? Dot will be cross with you if you've led him astray too. Don't expect me to defend you from Mrs Collins if she's on the warpath. A uniform? Well, if it's the station's spare I'll need to bring Dot anyway, to adjust it. Right, if that's it, you'd better get off the line – I'll need to call the airfield and get the Moth fuelled up. No, I know Dot won't like it, but Hugh needs her – I expect that'll do it. How long? Hmmm ... an hour for my bath," she broke off and giggled. "Teasing again, sorry, I couldn't resist it. An hour to get everything ready and get to the airfield ... half an hour for checks ... A couple of hours in the air ... I expect we can be with you by lunchtime." A fond smile and a rejoinder quiet enough that Mr Butler wouldn't hear. "I know you do, and you really shouldn't announce that sort of thing in the middle of a police station. You can tell me how much when I see you."

She hung up the receiver and immediately picked it up again. Calls to the airfield, the Collins residence and City South police station completed, she raced upstairs for a cat's lick and a promise instead of the threatened bath, the donning of clothes warm enough for a couple of hours of aviation and the throwing of other clothes and necessities into a soft bag in a way that was calculated to make her former maid, now partner, Dot, shudder when she saw it.

Dot had, as Jack predicted, not been at all happy about the idea of getting into the Moth.

"Couldn't I take the train, Miss?"

"Dot, I've told you before, we're partners now, you need to call me Phryne. And no, the next train wouldn't get you there until tomorrow night, and what use will that be to Hugh? I promise I'll fly slowly," she grinned, eliciting a wavering smile from her understandably nervous colleague.

"Miss – Phryne – if we're going, we're going," she said resolutely, "and don't you dare fly slowly, it's the speed that keeps the plane in the sky."

"Very good, Dot," said Phryne admiringly, "and mostly right. We could fly quite slowly, but there isn't much point. We want to get these poor chaps out of jail. What on earth can Jack have done with his warrant card?" she wondered idly, swerving in front of a delivery van to come to a screeching halt in front of City South.

The spare uniform secured with only the minimum of argument (there being enough officers at City South with enough experience of Miss Fisher to know what was and was not worth arguing about) they made good speed – well, to be fair, excessive speed – to the airfield, and were airborne slightly ahead of schedule.

Dot had slightly more than two hours in which to confirm her suspicion that she wouldn't be very fond of flying. However, she coped, and the landing in a field just outside Balmoral township (Phryne was reasonably confident that she'd got the right place, and was pleased she hadn't tried to navigate by identifying any individual sheep stations. Sheep, it seemed, were a bit … same-y) was achieved firmly, but in a manner that allowed all present to walk away from the aircraft which would itself almost certainly be able to take off again in due course. This, Phryne assured Dot, was regarded as success in aviating circles.

Their arrival had, not unnaturally, attracted attention; and the closest audience was the bunch of urchins which had, prior to their arrival, been playing in that very field. The game was clearly continuing as Phryne and Dot disembarked.

"Pow! Pow!" shouted several of the otherwise quite cheerful looking children, miming handguns with their fingers. Phryne decided it wouldn't hurt to make some friends, and played along, putting her hands up.

"I'll come quietly, I promise! Who's in charge here? I want to make a case for the defence."

The tallest of the boys swaggered across. "Yer look like a regular crim to me," he announced grimly.

She couldn't in her heart admit that her past could stand scrutiny, but was prepared to put up a fight. "You don't look so holy yourself. Who are you to ask questions?" she sneered gamely.

"P'lice," he announced proudly, pulling a pretend warrant card out of his pocket and flashing it at her expertly. She feigned concern, but Dot trotted past her and grabbed the young officer of the law by his skinny and grubby forearm.

"Just a minute, young man," she said firmly, in tones she must (Phryne thought) have learned at her mother's knee. "Let me see that card."

Reluctantly, her captive pulled his hand back out of his pocket. Dot took the card from him, glanced at it once and passed it to Phryne – who looked at it, did a double take and grinned broadly.

"What's your name?" she asked the now slightly scared looking boy.

"Not tellin'" he mumbled.

"Okay then, I'm going to call you Tea." He looked mystified. "It's rhyming slang for thief. Tealeaf. I'm happy to be able to inform you that Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson will be delighted to have his property returned, and if you play your cards right, he won't even find out where I found it. As a first step, I want you and your friends to get some lengths of rope and pegs and fasten my 'plane down. She's light, and if the wind gets up, she'll roll over. Don't stand on the wings, and don't tie a rope to anything that moves. I'll be back later to see how you got on."

They strode off without a backward look at the group of children who couldn't quite believe that they'd been given such a responsible task, but after a moment's hesitation, scurried off to fulfil it.

Fisher & Williams, in the meantime, strolled into town and unerringly identified the police station; the presence of a uniformed officer on the bench outside, enjoying a sandwich in the sun, was admittedly a giveaway.

"Good afternoon, Sergeant," said Phryne politely. "I believe you are currently playing host to Senior Detective Inspector Jack Robinson and Senior Constable Hugh Collins? We're here to relieve you of the responsibility."

So saying, she sashayed past him into the station, and up to the bars of the cell. Producing the warrant card, she presented it to the officers resident therein – particularly the one who was missing it more.

"Hello, Jack."