Chapter Four
Phryne surveyed her domain glumly. The cells at North Melbourne were largely the same as the ones in City South, but the officers were definitely a lot less decorative. She had explained to the thoroughly unpleasant Rossiter that yes, she had been at the University two nights previously, yes, she had had her revolver in her bag as usual, yes, Gervase had been alive when she last saw him and no, she and Inspector Robinson had left early. That, apparently, was enough to get her locked up. She looked speculatively at the lock on the cell door, but decided it wasn't worth drawing attention to the lock pick she'd managed to hide from the officers' perfunctory search at this stage.
Instead, she focussed on working out who could have helped themselves to the gun, and when.
Jack in the meantime, had his mind on rather bigger guns. He pulled up outside Prudence Stanley's house, took a deep breath and stepped out of the car to approach the front door, which was opened by the butler. On enquiring as to whether Mrs Stanley was At Home, he was invited in to wait.
"Detective Inspector, whatever brings you here?" Phryne's Aunt Prudence bustled into the sitting room.
"Good morning, Mrs Stanley," Jack replied courteously. "I apologise for the intrusion, but I hope when I explain, you'll see how you may be able to help. It's about Phryne."
"Well, of course," she said doubtfully. "What has Miss Fisher been up to now? I do wish she would settle down, it's really most unladylike of her to be constantly getting into scrapes."
Jack braced himself. "Actually, Mrs Stanley, it's officially Mrs Robinson. As of yesterday."
Aunt Prudence stared at him in astonishment, and sat down rather heavily on the couch.
"Whatever do you mean, Inspector?"
"Miss Fisher and I were married by special licence yesterday afternoon," he confessed.
"That seems rather hasty," she remarked – although he noticed that the disapproval he feared was not currently in evidence. "Was there a particular reason why I was excluded from the event?"
"Everyone was, I'm afraid," he said regretfully. "The fact is, we hadn't had any intention of marrying, but circumstances rather forced our hand."
Now disapproval was firmly on display. "You're not going to tell me you've got my niece in the family way, Inspector?"
"No! No, nothing like that," he said hastily. Then realised that of course, one could never be sure. What if …? No. Best not to go down that line of thought.
"It's because there's been a murder, and the weapon was Phryne's gun. The victim was a professor at the University, and Phryne and I were his guests at a ball that evening. However, I was the only person – apart from Phryne herself – who could place her in the room, quite possibly with the murder weapon, at about the time the murder took place. As we're married, I can't be required to testify against her."
This appeared to meet with Mrs Stanley's approval. "Perhaps an extreme measure to go to, Inspector, but I appreciate your efforts on my niece's behalf. I take it this is a recent attachment for you both?"
Jack smiled. "Hard to say, Mrs Stanley – but our recent case in England certainly focused our minds somewhat."
Mention of England clearly brought Phryne's father to mind for Aunt Pru, so Jack moved on hastily.
"I was hoping to ask for your help, though, in relation to our current predicament. Phryne's regarded as the chief suspect at present – admittedly, it is her gun and she was there that night."
Aunt Pru shook her head despairingly. "Why, Inspector, would a respectable young woman carry a firearm to a ball?"
Jack couldn't help reflecting that Phryne's gun had often come in handy at times one wouldn't expect to need a firearm, but decided Aunt Pru wouldn't appreciate the point.
"My difficulty is that the crime didn't take place in my precinct, and Phryne's locked up in the cells of a station whose senior officer isn't fond of me. I was hoping, Mrs Stanley, that you might be prepared to make a fuss in the ear of the Chief Commissioner? We've met him, but you know him rather better – and I think your influence would be much greater ..."
The flattery was finely judged and worked well. Mrs Stanley bridled proudly.
"William Cooper is a delightful man, and his wife is a very close friend." She fixed Jack with a Hard Stare.
"Leave It To Me, Inspector." (The capital letters were audible). "My niece will be home by nightfall or my name isn't Prudence Stanley."
He thanked her profusely and took his leave.
As it turned out, no Deed Poll for a change of name by Prudence Stanley was necessary – it was barely the middle of the afternoon when Phryne let herself in at her own front door.
Calling to Mr Butler only that she was home, and stopping off to overfill a glass of scotch she went straight to her boudoir and took a long, hot bath – prison cells being rather grubby places for both body and soul. Lying back in the scented water, she lifted her left hand and regarded the gold band upon its fourth finger without resentment but with a faint hint of curiosity. Examining her responses, she decided that for the moment at least, she was perfectly content with her changed circumstance.
After all, Jack was unlikely to make Hugh's mistake of thinking she would become the Little Woman at home. Poor Dot! That had been an awkward time for the Collinses and no mistake.
Dressing, she went downstairs and found Mr B preparing some cold meats to tempt her appetite. Naming him a gem, she tucked in, and then decided she should probably own up to the latest news.
"I'm delighted for you both," exclaimed Mr Butler. A thought occurred to him. "Is this now the Robinson Residence for callers, Miss – er, Madam?"
She pulled a face as realisation dawned.
"Do you know, Mr B, I have no idea. I think I had better discuss it with the Inspector. Perhaps stick to Miss Fisher for now, since no-one knows anyway?"
He agreed, and she decided that there was no time like the present. Grabbing hat, coat and bag, she strolled out to the Hispano-Suiza and drove to City South; before long, she was installed back on her personal corner of Jack's desk.
He couldn't deny that he was more than ever happy to see her there.
His wife. Good God.
"Congratulations and thanks, Jack darling – Aunt Pru put the fear of God into poor Bill Cooper and he in turn put the fear of God into the repellent Rossiter. I am requested not to leave the City boundaries, but apart from that can come and go as I please."
"We might need to decide what happens next, though, Jack – for us, I mean. Things like, are you going to move in with me properly? Do I change all my cards to "Phryne Robinson, Lady Detective" – which does have a certain ring to it, but not quite the same ... reputation..." she grinned. "I sort of had to tell Mr B, as I was sitting at his kitchen table branded with your gold band. He was thrilled, but wanted to know how he should answer the telephone."
She grimaced.
"How can getting married be so complicated?"
He returned grin for grimace.
"I think the act itself is pretty straightforward ... but you're right, we should probably be prepared to give a little publicity."
"Looking on the bright side, we can go dancing, to the theatre, to cosy dinners and everything else and not have to worry about who sees us." He raised his eyebrows. "And I can even hug you in the street without anyone needing an alibi."
He thought for a second, then hit on the idea he knew would be most likely to meet with approval.
"Why not have a party? Well, two parties. One tonight, for our nearest and dearest, and then let your Aunt Prudence organise the other for the society types you both inexplicably adore?"
He had another thought. "Does your aunt know any University people who might have known Gervase?"
She caught his thinking and instantly approved.
"If she didn't before, she does now, Jack. In the meantime, cocktails at six? And tell Senior Constable Collins that he and Dot need the delightful Miss Stubbs to do a little evening work if she can manage it."
The desk was polished a little more with her departure, and the remaining reports were that bit more bearable with the novelty of the evening ahead to look forward to.