Chapter 14: Frost

Ryan Binley indeed didn't make the impression of a dangerous criminal. In the soft morning light and a spare pair of Mr. Butlers striped Pyjamas about three sizes to big on him, he did look like a kid who had stumbled into his grandfathers cabinet by accident. Jack resolved that he wouldn't let himself be fooled. He pulled up a chair beside the bed, Miss Fisher decided to keep standing.

"Mr. Binley. Detective-Inspector Robinson. As your host has probably already told you, I have to ask you some questions.

"About the robbery?" Ryan asked calmly.

"About the robbery."

"I'm sorry, Sir. Really am. I thought the Deniers probably wouldn't even miss a few necklaces, they probably would just buy more. And..." He gulped and dropped his head. "...it was just too tempting to resist."

The Inspector nodded, fishing his notebook out of his coat pocket.

"How did you know where to find the valuable things, Ryan?" Cut Phryne Fisher into the resulting silence. The stable-hand bit his lip but stayed quiet, staring down at his cast.

"Mr. Binley, we know you were not alone. I doubt this was even your plan."

The young thief was kneading the white sheets between restless fingers. Finally he had reached a decision.

"She told me I'd get a fair cut if I'd empty the safe while the Deniers are at their party and stash things into the car. Even told me the combination."

"That explains why there was not a scratch on it." Jack stated under his breath. Ryan didn't seem to have heard him.

"And then she changed her mind and told me to also take that bloody stupid gold cup out of the Masters room. Promised me, she'd keep him occupied."

Miss Fisher sat down at the edge of Ryans bed.

"But something went wrong, didn't it?"

Mr. Binley seemed in his own world, looking at the events of Thursday night behind his closed lashes.

"I was just picking it up, when the Master was standing in front of me. He was so angry, yelling obscenities and then... he just collapsed. She was behind him, with a statue in her hand, and he was bleeding all over the carpet. And I couldn't move, I was just standing there thinking that now I will hang, that it was all over. But she said that he was alright, he was still breathing and that I needed to go and hide everything and it would be alright. So I left."

Jack bit his lip. So Phryne's instincts had been right, yet again. This was just a kid who had been dragged into this by the bling of gold.

"So what happened then?" He asked, putting his notebook away. He was unlikely to forget this conversation.

"I hid the stuff in the car and then I tried to go to sleep. The next morning I was summoned by Mr. Ellis, who said our Master had been going missing and I needed to come. The rest you know."

"You panicked when you found out he was dead?"

"Wouldn't you have, Miss? I killed him. Well, she killed him but I was right there. We are both gonna hang."

The two detectives locked eyes.

"I don't think you will, Ryan. But it would help if you hand over the stolen items and give us a detailed statement." The Inspector finally said. Once again, silence attacked the room. When Ryan spoke, his voice wasn't more than a whisper.

"I don't have them anymore. I gave them to her, Friday night. It's blood money now, I don't want it."

Phryne frowned.

"I saw you holding something, on the roof."

To her astonishment Binley fished under his pillow, before pulling out a golden necklace with a tiny cross on it.

"It was my sister Anna's, I don't go anywhere without it. I'm not lying, I gave everything to her."

Phryne ran a fingertip over the necklace in her hand, suddenly feeling extremely angry. The Inspector pushed his chair back.

"Well, I guess Miss Fisher, we really should pay some acquaintances a polite visit, don't you?"

X

"Why would I steal from my friends? Look around! Does it appear that I need to?"

The Inspector did look around. In fact, it rather surprised him, how old fashioned Marie White's house was decorated.

"It certainly looks like you spent a lot of money on it. Where exactly does it come from though, Miss White? I cannot seem to find any source of income in your background."

With a slight pout, that she probably considered attractive and most men, including Jack Robinson would have to agree, she lit a cigarette and started blowing smoke rings through the air of her salon.

"I inherited some and my fiancè is also quite happy to help, aren't you, darling."

Mr. David M. Price, who up till now had been sitting silently on the love seat beside her, switched on a smile on his face and agreed.

"That's odd." Cut Miss Fisher in who had been standing in the background, her arms crossed over her chest. "Because I do believe that you went bankrupt just two months ago, didn't you, David?"

Colour drained from his face. The Inspector watched on, biting back a smile.

"Strangely that date fell close together with the start of a series of robberies all around Melbourne." He stated before slapping down a case file in front of the couple.

"On September 25th the first victims were Mr. and Mrs. Dreadford in St. Kilda, during a anniversary party. Then October 12th Mr. Dukeson during the engagement celebrations for his son Albert. October 18th Vivian and Berthold Wagner, again during a party. Do I need to go on? I'm certain, you remember them rather well. And there is only one person on the guest list of every single robbery in the last two months and that is you, Mr. Price."

Miss Fisher mused that David Price would actually make quite a good actor. He seemed genuinely gobsmacked by having been found out.

"How...? I wasn't..." He opened and closed his mouth like a stranded fish.

"That doesn't prove anything." Miss White said, clutching onto her coolness with a faux smile.

"No, but we do have a witness. You might remember him, name of Ryan Binley. And I'm quite sure, if we dig deeper, we will find more stable-hands, maids and kitchen helps who are willing to talk, as well as philandering husbands who, for a little fun, gave away their secrets." Miss Fisher pointed out. Marie stayed silent, fiddling with her lighter.

"But this time, something went wrong, didn't it, Miss White?" Jack finally continued. "Your little scheme didn't work, you didn't manage to distract Marcel Denier from returning to his private rooms. He found your accomplice in the middle of stealing his beloved goblet. So you knocked him out with a marble statue and then you sent the kid away and called in your fiancè to help you dispose of the body."

While he had talked, Marie White had turned paler and paler, while her husband-to-be seemed frozen to the spot.

"Marie!? What have you done with Marcel?"

That was a turn of events neither of the detectives had expected. They waited with bated breath how things would unfold. Miss White took another draw of her cigarette with shaky fingers.

"Alright. It's true. I have stolen from the Deniers. But I have not killed Marcel, that is a lie. He was alive when I left him. It was stupid really, Marcel just really wanted to be alone with me, I couldn't stop him from dragging me to his sitting room, was just praying that the stupid kid would not be there anymore but of course he stood there with the goblet in hand like in a stupid film." She laughed a bitter laugh. „Marcel lost it completely, he yelled and screamed, I was scared he would start to strangle Binley any second. And before I knew it I was holding his ridiculous Aphrodite statue in my hand and he was lying on the floor, bleeding like a pig."

David watched his fiancè with his mouth hanging open.

"So you did have an affair with him?!" He finally uttered. Phryne couln't resist rolling her eyes up to the heavens. Marie White threw her fiancé a look of disgust.

"If it any consolation for your pride, it was just to find out where he had been stashing his valuables. It's not like you are much help anymore in that department. A lady does have needs."

Jack shook his head in silence as Price locked his arms over his chest and moved away from what Phryne suspected, was his former wife-to-be.

"So how did you manage to drag Denier to the lake then, Miss White?"

She froze in the middle of lighting another cigarette.

"I haven't. As I said, he was alive when I left him. Bleeding a lot but breathing. Id take any oat on this, Inspector."

She tried a charming smile that dripped off the Inspectors armour without even a weak try to penetrate it. Then she turned towards her lover.

"Do you have anything to do with this, David?!"

He drummed his fingers on the table.

"You don't actually believe I would kill a man, just because he's gotten his hands on you, do you?"

Phryne started to lose patience.

"So, you what? Left Marcel lying on the floor and hoped he would die while you went back to the party?"

Miss White looked up in shock, like this had never even occurred to her. She was not that great an actress, Miss Fisher found.

"No. No, no, no. He was breathing, I swear. And I thought, I was hoping, that maybe he would just forget. My aunt had a flowerpot falling on her head once and she couldn't remember anything around that and he hadn't seen me and... I just thought, it would work out somehow."

"So you were just hoping that you would get away with the jewels and let Mr. Binley take the fall if necessary?" Jack stated, his voice showing a hint of frost.

Silence answered him. There was nothing more Marie wanted to add to this. Her fiancé didn't feel the same way.

"I can't believe this. How could you do this? You endangered both of our reputations, our connections. How could you?"

"Besides the small fact that she did endanger Marcel's life." Phryne threw in dryly. Jack ignored her comment as well as he could.

"So you deny any involvement in the robberies, Mr. Price?"

"You have to believe me, Inspector, I had no idea what this... Marie was up to."

Miss Fisher watched the show in front of her with dwindling amusement. It was a rather bad theatre really.

Under three questioning pairs of eyes, David M. Price jumped up and walked over to a small writing desk, where he retrieved a little book, bound in dark brown leather.

"Look, on Oktober 18th, when my girl here robbed the Wagners, I was up in Sydney."

Inspector Robinson took the book from his hands and ran a finger over the page, taking in the rather messy curls of ink.

"I believe you, Mr. Price." He finally said, handing the notebook to Miss Fisher. "If only, because it would be more than stupid to blackmail and rob the same man."