Chapter Seven

"Amy got on well with Mr Armstrong, then?" asked Phryne, as the three women congregated on the pavement near the door of the Exchange.

Sarah gave a lopsided smile.

"I wanted to get away from Caroline, but only because she's right – I just hate to hear her boasting about it. Amy's quite young – Caroline takes advantage of her all the time, makes her run down to the Call Room with everyone's orders, instead of going herself – that kind of thing. Amy's a good typist and she's got the eye for detail you need in this job, but I think she fancied Mr Armstrong something rotten. He couldn't do any wrong in her eyes."

Dot looked confused. "What wrong can you do in this place? Surely it's just about buying and selling shares? Or have I still missed something?" She grimaced at the other two. "There was me thinking I was starting to get the hang of this."

Sarah laughed.

"I'm sure you have, Miss Williams. We're just a place for buyers and sellers to meet, so there isn't that much to it. Still, there's always competition – the best prices, the best clients, the best profits. The brokers who can advise their clients like to be able to give them the next big idea; the operators like to be able to sneak in before the rest to get the best price, and the advisers and operators gossip terribly. A bunch of old women!"

Phryne was interested. "So how do they get their 'big ideas'?"

Sarah shrugged. "I can't speak for Mr Armstrong, but my Mr Schultz is always trying to be the first with the news. He doesn't eat lunch – he goes to the newspaper desks to try to find out what's happening before anyone else does."

"How does that help him, though?" asked Dot.

"Well, imagine if he got word that a company was going to get taken over. He might have instructions to buy that company's shares at the best price he can. If he thinks those shares are going to be going up a lot, he'll be happy to pay more for them that day, rather than wait until the next day when the takeover's been announced. So, everyone else buys at ten pounds and then walks away with some unfilled orders, but he pays eleven to get all the shares he's been asked to buy – he looks silly, but only until the takeover's announced, and everyone else is paying fifteen or sixteen pounds to fill the orders they're still sitting on."

"Even I can see how that works," Phryne remarked. "So, what about Armstrong? Where did he get his big ideas?"

"I really don't know," admitted Sarah. "All I know is that he was always urging the advisers to give him bigger and bigger trades; and because he was so often calling the prices well, he made them money, so they were trusting him more."

At that, she looked at her pretty little wristwatch and apologised to them.

"I'll need to get back. Nice talking to you, though, Let me know if you need anything else." With that, she hurried back into the building, leaving the two detectives looking at each other.

Phryne was the first to speak. "D'you know what I think, Dot?"

Dot tipped her head. "I think we need to hear Schultz and Cooper's version of Armstrong's success."

"Then we are Of One Mind. Where do you think we'll find the Inspector and Constable Collins?"

Dot grinned.

"Behind you, Miss."

"Miss Fisher. Not fainting today, then?"

Miss Fisher beamed, and the world righted itself on its axis for at least one gentleman present. "Hello, Jack!"