Chapter Four

Miss Fisher having made a very special effort, it wasn't even ten o'clock before she and the Inspector were enquiring for Dr McMillan the following morning. When they were shown to the private room, though, they were met with a very unusual sight; Mac was conferring with another doctor, in the Women's Hospital, and that doctor appeared to be A Man. What was more, the conversation appeared to be both serious and civil.

Catching sight of the two sleuths over her colleague's shoulder, Mac beckoned them in.

"The Honourable Phryne Fisher, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, Dr Ross McCafferty." Mac performed the introductions as the inconvenient waste of time they appeared to her, and nods were hastily exchanged, before all attention turned to the occupant of the bed, who had been carefully placed in the recovery position – the reason why was soon made evident.

Mac kept her voice low, but this appeared only to be a measure to ensure they weren't overheard by others not present in that room.

"Mrs Spencer can't hear us; I've kept her on sedatives since I arrived at the crime scene yesterday evening. I wanted you here because I want you to see this."

Mac looked around at their faces and rested on Jack's.

"Inspector, you are seeing this because you must, for your investigation. Miss Fisher is female and Ross is a doctor. I will ask you, however, to bear in mind, that this is a patient, and a woman, and she is not currently conscious to give her consent to you seeing what I am about to show you."

She delicately peeled back the sheet, and lifted away the hospital gown slightly, so that the woman's back was revealed.

Phryne took a sharp breath, and Jack's face became as granite. Undeterred, the doctor described what they were seeing.

"Here are the marks from the attack she suffered yesterday evening. You will see that in several places they have cut into the skin, but not in all; I would say this was with a leather strap or belt, rather than a stick or a sword of some kind. Here, here and here you can also see bruising which is of different age. This is purple; this, almost yellowed."

She replaced the gown and the sheet with infinite gentleness that contrasted with the expression on her face.

"This woman has been beaten, not once, but repeatedly over a period of several days, even weeks. There are also broken ribs, suggesting that once she was on the floor, she was kicked in the torso. Also the face – her nose is broken."

"We are all now going to move to my office, where there is a bottle of Scotch and enough glasses for everyone that needs one."

She met no argument.

For a while, no-one spoke. Each sipped their drink, and stared into it, or out of the window, or at the wall.

Jack was the first to break the silence.

"I was surprised to see a male doctor here," he remarked to Dr McCafferty.

Said doctor shifted uncomfortably, and it was left to Mac to reply on his behalf.

"Ross was first on the scene for a woman in postpartum haemorrhage. By the time we'd brought her here and saved her, we'd forgotten that he wasn't supposed to be here."

He gave a wry smile. "I try to make myself useful when I have time to spare."

Phryne piped up. "It must be helpful in some ways. Politically, I mean." And, in response to an exasperated look from her friend, "Don't be an idiot, Mac. There's always politics."

Placing his empty glass on the desk, Jack attempted to resume progress in the investigation. "So, the repetition of the attacks on Mrs Spencer makes it less likely that an intruder assaulted her yesterday."

"My money's on the late Mr Spencer," remarked Phryne. "Which is a shame, because he's already dead."

"Thank you, Miss Fisher," said the Inspector as repressively as he could manage in response to a judgement he heartily agreed with. "I want to go back to the Spencer house and see if there's any sign of the instrument used."

"We're no closer to knowing why he was shot, though," she continued. "If he'd been beating her repeatedly it's a bit of a leap to think that he was suddenly overcome with remorse and decided to relieve her of his presence."

"The only lead we have at present is Mrs Spencer herself," said Jack, looking meaningfully at Mac. "Is there anything at all you can tell us?"

Unexpectedly, it wasn't Mac but Dr McCafferty who spoke up.

"It's not the first time she's been here."

Mac looked at him frowningly, but he met her gaze. "If it wasn't Spencer, the police need to know, Mac."

As she opened her mouth to reply, though, the office door opened and a nurse stuck her head in.

"Doctor, it's Mrs Spencer – she's coming round."

Mac gave Jack a warning look.

"Yes, Inspector, you may come along and attempt to ask her about the attack. No, Inspector, if she shows the slightest discomfort at your presence, you may not stay. You will in any case stop questioning her the instant I tell you to."

Jack nodded in agreement, and they filed back to Mrs Spencer's room.

She hadn't moved from the position on her side, but her eyes slitted open in their bruised and swollen state, as the group entered.

"Mrs Spencer," Mac said gently. "You remember me? Dr McMillan. You're in the Women's Hospital. You suffered an attack at your home yesterday, and I treated you and brought you here to recover."

The woman said nothing, but her eyes closed for a moment as if the effort of processing the information was more than her strength could stand.

When they opened again, it was to see Jack crouching in front of her to bring his face level with hers, his eyes gentle.

"Mrs Spencer, I'm Detective Inspector Robinson and I attended the scene of your attack. I'm afraid I have some bad news." Pause. Deep breath. "As well as finding you badly injured, we found your husband dead. He'd been shot."

He waited a few moments, and watched as she closed her eyes again.

"Mrs Spencer, I am sorry to have to ask, but we need to know whether you were aware of any enemies your husband might have had? The doctor has explained to me the amount of pain you are suffering and I assure you I would not be disturbing you at all, if there was any option."

Her eyes opened, and she stared at him for long minutes. Just as he was starting to wonder whether she had lost her reason, or her ability to speak, her mouth opened. He had to lean into catch the whispered words.

"I – have – nothing – to – say."

Jack stared into her eyes, and they were dull with pain, but there was also steely resolve. He caught Mac's forbidding eye, bit his lip and straightened. Muttering his thanks, he left the room with Phryne in tow.