Chapter 9: A Time To Kill

Amber collected her thoughts for a minute. She was not sure, if she could believe their words, but then again, it was hard to not trust someone whose blood you have had on your hands and who still cared enough to not let you rot in prison unheard. She decided to grip her one chance at freedom with both hands. Her brother Lewis had been a gambler, she explained, losing more money than he could make in his job as a dock man.

"He asked Victor for money, more than once. He told me."

"How did Lewis know him?", the woman prodded carefully.

"They were childhood buddies", Amber explained, "back when he was just a dirty little kid, like the rest of us. Even back then he was a bully though."

She all but spat out the last sentence.

"Lewis thought, he was the answer to his prayers, when he showed up again. Let himself be drawn into this crap."

"What 'crap', Miss Walters".

The Inspector had sat down.

„Little 'jobs' they did together. Threaten a woman here, beat up a young kid there. Nothing major. But Lewis didn't like it much. They fought. Often. The night Lewis died, I saw them drinking in a bar together. Victor wasn't happy. Three hours later, my brother was lying behind that bar with a bullet hole in his chest."

The silence was disturbed only by the angry humming of a fly that had taken the wrong entrance.

"So you believe, your brother was shot by Victor Browning?", Miss Fisher asked.

"I do not believe that, I am sure he did it! Victor was never the kinda gentleman gangster his brother would have liked to see him as. He fought dirty and himself. None of this assassination shit. If Victor didn't like you, he wouldn't walk away. He'd put a knife between your ribs and then walk."

The unkempt red hair fell into Ambers face as she spoke, reminding Phryne of a very angry Greek goddess. She nodded.

"So, why didn't you come see the police?"

The girl laughed bitterly.

"No offence, but the police is shaking in their booties when the name Browning is whispered. They wouldn't have done anything but told me to stay quiet. So I went and became a maid at the Browning Mansion."

„Victor didn't recognise you?", Phryne asked, rising her eyebrows.

"He hasn't spoken to me since I was five years old. I have changed quite a bit since then."

Miss Fisher nodded, taking in the now grimy, but pretty face with the big eyes and the indeed unusual shade of hair colour. Hugh did have taste in the women he looked at closer and thank goodness for that.

"What were you hoping to achieve there?", Jack asked into the break, while worrying about the answer.

"Anything. Finding some evidence. Finding a way to kill him..." Amber raised her jaw in defiance. Phryne let this setb before she asked.

"Have you succeeded? In killing him?"

The girl bit her lip in a nervous gesture. She seemed to think. Phryne and Jack shared a nervous glance, before both of them looked back to Amber, who pulled a strand of copper hair behind her ear, exposing a fading, but distinctive bruise on her neck, before she answered.

"I don't know."

X

When Miss Fisher and Inspector Robinson withdrew to his office to sort through what they had just found out, they're enthusiasm had worn off. Jack let himself drop into his chair, groaning in a mixture of pain and frustration. He didn't miss the look on Phrynes face that bore the question if he was alright, before she returned her attention to the case.

"So, if Victor has killed Lewis Walters, that is one murderer down."

Jack rubbed his tired face with both hands. His stomach wound was playing up again, a fact that he wouldn't share with Phryne just yet.

"And if Amber in fact did kill Victor Browning, that is two. And neither of them brings us closer to shutting down the crime in the city", he finished her thought with a sigh.

"Well, what do we know? He caught her sniffing around, tried to strangle her and she stuck a knife into his chest before collapsing", she recaptured what they had just heard from Amber. "But how did he end up in an alleyway half across the city with a chest like a Swiss cheese?"

The door flew open, whoever demanded entrance didn't seem used to knocking. Elisabeth MacMillan breezed in, waving another file in her hand that she slapped down loudly in front of the pair.

"I have news, kids", she said, pausing for a moment to give them time to close their mouths.

"I looked over the coroners report, as you'd asked me to and there is no doubt about it. Victor Browning was stabbed repeatedly, but only one stab wound was there before his death."

"I'm afraid we already know that, Mac."

Phryne couldn't keep the disappointment out of her voice.

"Yes, you do. What you don't know is, that he didn't die of that though. The knife was deflected by a rib, really didn't get very far and definitely hasn't had a chance in injuring anything that could have killed him."

"So, Dr. MacMillian, what did he die of?", made Jack an attempt to shorten the banter.

Mac grinned happily.

"My money would be on the arsenic. Enough to kill a horse and an Elephant."

X

The middle aged man charged through the room like a wild bull. Elaine couldn't help but feel amused. Not many people got to see this part of him. And with nervous sweat pouring down his doubtlessly expensive three-piece, Brad Browning was not quite as scary as the public saw him. The murderous sparkle in his eyes however, let her take a step backwards.

"What the hell were you thinking? Now we have the whole damn police on us", he spat and returned to his wild pounce around the room. "Why on earth did you kidnap a policeman? Everybody knows you don't poke a hornets nest! And then of course it had to be the DCs son in law. How stupid can you be?"

Elaine Browning calmly took a sip of her tea, before she answered.

"I wanted to know how much he found out", she said.

"You could have just asked", Brat snapped. His sister in law got up and wordlessly handed him a glass of spirit, fixating him with steel grey eyes.

"Ten minutes later he wouldn't have been able to answer questions anymore", she said quietly. "And now drink this and calm down, for heavens sake. The two kids will take the fall and the DC will calm down. He's getting too much pressure."

Brad Browning drained the glass in one go. "Dont you worry about Sanderson", he growled, patting his pocket, "I'll take care of him myself."

X

Ten minutes had gone past since the change in their case and the first excitement had left only silence. Mac sat in a chair, quietly reading the coroners report for what must have been the 15th time. Phryne had taken her usual position on the desk, inspecting her gloves in the most bored manner. Neither of the three knew what to say. Finally Jack dropped the pencil he had been playing with.

„Alright. So arsenic should be incredibly hard to track back to anyone. About twenty people were serving our victim food and drinks every day. And by now every cup would be washed and every food rests disposed of. So unless someone watched him or her stir the poison into his tea, there won't be any..." He stopped mid sentence.

"The tea...why did I not think of it earlier? Collins?"

The young police man rushed into the room.

"Sir?"

"Fetch Amber Walters from the cells, will you? And while your at it, bring Vladimir Bazarov to the interview room as well. On second thought, take Jones with you."

Only after the Constable had hurried off he noticed the two women, that were staring at him in equal confusion.

"I paid Elaine Browning a visit after her husband died to break the news. That's when I met Amber for the first time. And I noticed the tea was served sweetened and with lemon, neither sugar nor milk offered. That seemed rather unrefined hospitality for a high society lady like Mrs. Browning."

Mac yawned.

"Well thought, Inspector. With the slight flaw that arsenic is almost tasteless. Why would she use sugar or lemon? The tea would have already been quite sufficient to disguise the taste."

Phryne hopped off the desk.

"Maybe Elaine is just a very careful murderess", she offered happily. "Anyway, I intend to find out. Anyone with me?"