Author's note: A huge thank you to all the people who have posted reviews telling me how much they enjoyed this fic: I really appreciate the encouragement. Special thanks to all the people who said kind words about my dialogue and characterisation. I know they aren't perfect, but I put a lot of effort into them, and I'm glad to know people have noticed. And the best news? Season 2 is being screened here in New Zealand immediately after Season 1, so I'll be getting my weekly fix for a while yet.
After that, it was all fairly simple. Jack separated the two men and placed them both under guard until he and Phryne could question them. The remaining officers fanned out to search the house and surrounding area. They soon found a revolver and several rifles in the living room, Mr. Asquith's missing banknotes concealed in a suitcase in the bedroom, the green Studebaker hidden under a tarpaulin in one of the outbuildings, the disturbed ground where Kathryn Asquith had first been buried and, finally, Kathryn Asquith's body, reburied in a nearby gully. Abbot was dispatched in one of the cars to find a phone from which to call for an undertaker and a prison van, and Jack began questioning his prisoners.
Kemp and Lawrence were cunning, but they were neither clever nor courageous. Under the combined questioning of Jack and Phryne they soon spilled out the whole sorry story.
They had never intended to kill Kathryn, they swore. It was only a plot to get the cash and the car, following which they would leave her asleep at the farmhouse, stranded and possibly seduced but unharmed, and head for Sydney.
But Kathryn had overheard them discussing the plan. She and Kemp had argued, and she had slapped his face before snatching her purse from the table and heading for the door. Kemp had pulled her back and struck her, and she had launched herself at him in a fury. Lawrence had tried to intervene, and she had kicked him in the groin. At some point in the ensuing struggle, one of the men had strangled Kathryn.
When they realised she was dead, they had panicked and hidden her body in a shallow grave near the house before deciding to lay low for a few weeks. They had considered driving the green Studebaker over a cliff, but had decided it was too valuable to part with, and so had agreed to keep it hidden until any outcry over the missing heiress had had a chance to die down.
When they had seen Phryne by the grave they had panicked again, and Lawrence had attempted to shoot her. When that had failed, they had pursued her until she had crashed at which point, assuming her dead, they had joined the crowd at the scene before returning to the farm. They had argued about whether to attempt to walk off the farm – the police were now looking for a green Studebaker, and Lawrence's truck had broken down several weeks earlier – but had been unable to agree on whether this was a good idea, or where to go if they did.
The only thing neither of them would admit to was the actual murder of Kathryn Asquith. Each pointed his finger squarely at the other. Jack, with a look of disgust on his face, calmly informed them that if neither of them confessed then in all probability they would both hang. It was clear to both of them that he did not consider this to be an undesirable outcome.
It was early evening by the time Collins, Jack and Phryne drove back to Melbourne.
"We could stop at that woman's farm on the way, if you like?" Jack offered.
Phryne shook her head. "It's been a long day, and I don't have her clothes with me. I'd rather wait, if that's alright."
"Of course."