Chapter 11: Calm Seas
"I really am not sure what Annabel believes she has seen. But nothing of the sort happened last night between Marcel and me."
Marie White was a real beauty in the light of the day. Today she was wearing a rather stunning combination in a dark glimmering green that made her eyes look like the ones of a very spoiled cat. The Detective-Inspector realised that he was staring and cleared his throat.
"So what exactly did happen to your memory, Miss White?"
She grabbed for her cigarettes but dropped them on a slight shake of his head.
"We danced together, Marcel was quite drunk. He asked to show me something. I didn't think much of it since he was always rather... How should I say? Friendly. So I agreed to come to his sitting room and have a look at this Egyptian cup of his and when we walked down the hall, he suddenly had his hands all over me." She huffed. "And of course just in that second the stupid cow needed to wander along and pull the wrong conclusions."
Jack nodded. He had watched Marcel Denier flirting with about every lady in the full ball room over the hours of Thursday night, including Phryne and Marie White. And after the conversation with Miss Fisher he wasn't surprised that Denier hadn't waited for an invitation here either.
"So, what happened then?"
"Mrs. Sinclair's appearance startled him somewhat and I was able to slip away. Please, Inspector, can we keep this silent? I wouldn't want to worry my fiancè."
"I'm afraid that won't be possible, Miss White. I will have to ask Mr. Price the same questions. The man who tried to force himself on you, was killed last night. He has a motive."
And I would congratulate him, a deeper, darker part of Jack thought. If he had caught Marcel with his dirty fingers on Phryne, he wasn't sure just what he would have done. Marie White appeared to be thinking along similar lines as she leaned over the desk conspiratorially, showing a lot more of her décolletage than the policeman had wished to see and said in a tone that expressed deepest symphathy: "I am sorry to say this, Inspector, but, there was someone else he was heavily flirting with. And I wouldn't be surprised if he tried his luck on her either. I believe he might even have succeeded."
The Inspector played along. On second thought, she didn't remind him all that much of Miss Fisher.
X
The cab rolled to a slow halt in front of the cottage.
"You sure you wanna do this?" Asked Bert, a hint of worry in his voice.
"Very much." Nodded Dot Williams and climbed out of the car before pulling a basket from the back seat that would have reminded an attentive observer quite a lot of the one that was currently hidden under the Inspectors desk at the City South Police Station. It held a lot less refined groceries in this case, but nevertheless it would fill an empty stomach. Resolve in her step, Dottie marched up to the wooden door she had stood in front the night before and knocked. With bated breath she waited, hoping to god that Mrs. Binley would not be at work. Her prayers were answered when a head appeared. The grey do was slightly less dishevelled than yesterday and recognition alit the worn face for the split of a second, before she grumbled something that could have been a question.
"Mrs. Binley" Dottie said, in her best good catholic girl voice. "After I was here last night I realised that you might appreciate a helping hand and so I went to my church and collected some little things for you. Just a bit of cake, some eggs, tea, freshly baked bread..." She lifted the covering clothes to let the smell waft under the woman's nose. It seemed to soothe her suspicion somewhat.
"I also brought some fire wood, a kind donation from the convent of Marymead" She said conversationally, waving Cec to bring in the goods. God would surely forgive her the lies, at least Miss Williams hoped so dearly. After all she was doing a good thing, wasn't she? Mrs. Binley waved the young Cabbie through into her kitchen with a generous gesture. Dottie stepped in right behind him, chattering friendly along with the overwhelmed lady and plotting in her pretty head just how to find out what she needed to know.
X
Jack Robinson had little succes in hiding a smile as Phryne Fisher slipped back into his office from the neighbouring interview room in which she had spent the last half hour, surely not in the slightest bit listening into his conversation with Marie White.
"You do call interesting people your friends, Miss Fisher." He teased, as she fell onto a chair with a sigh.
"Marie is not a friend, Jack. She is an acquaintance. And she obviously thinks I might have had an affair with Marcel, which shows some imagination."
She searched for the Inspectors eyes and to her relief, found neither doubt nor jealousy there.
"I rather believe she was trying to lead me down the wrong track." He said instead, folding his hands on his desk.
"Which means, she doesn't want you to follow the right one."
"You think David Price murdered Denier?"
She pondered this, pulling her red lips into something reminding him of a pout.
"It's an option. But he doesn't strike me as the murder-of-passion type." She finally offered.
"He doesn't strike me as someone overly passionate about anything much."
They locked eyes over the desk, both remembering the last night with sudden vivid clarity. Jack felt his ears turn hot.
Once again they were interrupted by a knock at the door.
"The Coroners report, Sir."
Collins waved a brown file and withdrew quickly after handing it over. Getting between those fronts was none of his intention.
"Now let's see what we have." The DI mumbled, flicking through the pages. "In the water overnight, strongly bleeding head wound caused by a blunt object... well this is interesting."
He slapped down the paper in front of Miss Fisher.
"There was water and algae found in his lungs as well as his stomach."
Phryne read this again and let the information sink in before she looked at Jack with big eyes.
"So he drowned after all. He was still alive when he was thrown into the lake!"
X
Outside at the desk Hugh Collins had just finished a phone call. His fellow Constable at the City West Station had turned out to be a quite nice fellow who had promised to send over copies of the files straight away. It occurred to the young policeman that it was a little odd they would give up their information so readily, but then again, the robberies had shaken high society for months and the investigation stalled. They probably had Sanderson breathing down their neck and would be happy to find someone else to blame.
His stomach growled and Hugh wondered briefly, if he could ask the Inspector to drop out for a quick lunch, even though he hadn't been here long yet. Robinson's office lay in unusual silence, but Miss Fisher was still in there and they hadn't started throwing things yet. There was hope. It wasn't quite what Hugh had expected, after hearing from Dottie the news of the Inspectors sudden disappearance from the Fisher household during their shared morning walk. And even less, when Jones had gossiped about Robinson showing late for his shift, looking like he hadn't slept at all. No, it was probably best if he post phoned his lunch till things settled. The Constable tried his best to ignore his stomach, which protested that thought vehemently.
When Dorothy Williams pushed through the door just seconds later, things looked up. But she didn't seem to have bothered with food for him. Instead she radiated excitement, like a kid who had just found the doll under the Christmas tree it had been hoping for all year.
"Is Miss Fisher still here?" She panted, not bothering with a greeting.
"In with the Dective-Inspector." The Constable informed her, not sure if to be offended by her ignorance of his needs. Dottie snuck a look through the crack in the brown door. The Inspector and her Mistress were sitting in companionable conversation over a pile of paperwork. Dot breathed a sigh of relief. Then she raised her hand and knocked. Two pairs of eyes looked a her startled. The companion cleared her throat.
"I am sorry to interrupt, but I think I might have found Mr. Binley."