Chapter Nine

Considering that the challenge was rather less than that of delivering wounded soldiers to a field hospital in war-torn France, Phryne's moment of panic was ruthlessly quashed.

"OK, Dot, you go and change into something dry and comfortable. I'm going to make two phone calls – one to Dr Mac and one to City South. Then you and I are going to proceed in an orderly fashion to the hospital. Just this once, I'm going to take it so steady you won't have to close your eyes. You can't be that close yet, and I'd not like to answer to Constable Collins if I don't get you there in one piece."

Dorothy shut her eyes anyway, and nodded. "Just hurry, Miss, please? I'd rather be where Dr Mac is, if it's all the same to you."

Phryne stepped swiftly to the phone and secured Mac's presence as soon as she was due to become free. Then she thought for a moment, and on being put through to the police station, asked not for Hugh Collins but for Jack.

"Jack, love, it's me. Now, I need you to listen calmly to what I have to say and not react loudly. I'm guessing Hugh's in earshot?"

Jack confirmed that the door of his office was open.

"Right, here's the situation. Dot's waters have broken – Jack, I told you, be quiet. I've called Mac and she's going to meet us at the hospital, where I am about to drive Dot at such a slow pace that you won't believe it without at least one secondary witness. Your job is to get Hugh there in one piece, and in as calm a state as you can manage. Got it?"

He got it. Putting the phone down, he stuck his head round the door and cheerily asked Senior Constable Collins if he could bring the car round, as they had to make a trip across town. Hugh innocently complied. He was slightly surprised when the Inspector elected to drive, but as Jack chose not to disclose the purpose of their journey until it was almost completed, his opportunity to panic was limited; and a stern word from Jack on the need to be a support for Dot was enough to retrieve Hugh from High Doh to somewhere at the lower end of the treble stave. For a light baritone, Jack thought that was definitely a safer range.

Collecting Dot's coat and an overnight bag that her typically organised assistant had ready packed, Phryne supported the girl out to the Hispano, and drove at uncharacteristically dignified pace to the hospital. Having reunited husband and wife and put them in Mac's capable hands, Jack and Phryne beat a hasty retreat.

Although still premature, at nearly eight months, the twins were small but safe and delivered without undue problems. Dot and Mac between them coped admirably (though Mac insisted afterwards that Dot had been the one doing all the work). Hugh … less so. While doing his best to put a brave face on the whole nightmare, he struggled to hide his panic and unashamedly wept when first Margaret (for Dot) and then Gideon (for Hugh) saw the light of day and bawled out their young lungs. Dot, engulfed in his ecstatic hug, had to speak to him quite sternly about letting her breathe, please (but couldn't hide the love in her eyes and the flush of her cheek when she spoke to her children's father).

Phryne and Jack, alerted by Mac that it was safe to return to the hospital, dutifully admired the two new arrivals, confirmed confidently that they were the spitting image of their parents, and slipped away again from the racket as soon as possible. If either one of them was striding out to make it to the exit more quickly, no-one was rude enough to mention it.

As they were approaching the front door of the hospital, Jack was called over by the receptionist.

"Inspector? I have a call for you." He strode over and picked up the handset.

"Jack Robinson. What? Where? Thanks for letting me know. On my way."

He took Phryne's arm and hustled her to his car.

"A body at the Regent Theatre. Dressed in evening clothes. Come on, Special Constable Fisher, we're off to Collins St!"