Thanks once again to all of you who went through the trouble of letting me know what you thought. I appreciate some feedback. But I also do hope that the quiet ones enjoy this little tale as well, as it is not shaping up to be a short one (Chapter 28 might be a hint there). And yes, of course it was Phryne's bed. I wouldn't have expected anything less from her. ;)
Chapter 28: Yours, Mine And The Truth
"You seem awfully cheery," Tobias Butler smiled, when Dot laid the loaf of bread onto the kitchen table, humming under her breath.
"I am relieved, Mr. B. You were right! The necklace was indeed lost by her friend Roberta."
A somewhat muffled voice answered her from within the oven he was currently scrubbing: "I am very glad to hear it."
A moment later his bold head appeared, a dark streak of grease on his cheek that caused Dot to bite her lip in amusement.
"Does that mean all the charges against Miss Aberville are dismissed?" he asked, attempting to wipe some sweat from his brow and smearing the dark streak further.
"Well, the silver strainer is still missing," she said.
"Oh, actually I have news there," Mr. Butler explained. "Mrs. Robinson must have stored it in the dining room behind the crystal."
"That seems unusual for her," Dot wondered for a brief moment.
"But then our employer is an unusual woman," Mr. B smiled, taking off his apron. "I had better get on my way to the market. They should return late in the afternoon."
Dot couldn't help but giggle when he made every appearance of leaving.
"Is something amusing you, Dorothy?"
She fished a handkerchief from her pocket.
"Allow me."
He held still while she wiped the grease from his face.
"Now that's much better," she finally decided.
Just then the telephone rang.
X
Jack riffled through his pockets, hoping for a stray cigarette, but in vain. He hankered for a smoke in the cool morning air before regrouping with Phryne, but luck seemed not on his side today. A horse stared at him from where she was eating Mrs. Tattler's Geraniums, obviously still recovering from a rather inelegant ride back to Woodend.
Mary had grown more anxious the more people had arrived at the foot of Hanging Rock and finally Jack had taken pity on the filly. He feared he might never hear the end of it from Phryne. A second horse had joined her in the garden behind the hotel since he had released her there on Mrs. Wilson's orders. Athena was currently inspecting the picket fence that seemed completely misplaced, before lazily trotting over to Mary and rubbing her head against the other filly's neck. A question sparked in Jack's brain that he remembered having intended to ask before.
"Would you care for a cigarette?" Mia Green asked beside him. He took the offered gasper without hesitation but with utter gratitude.
"A terrible habit," she mused after he had given her fire and she'd dragged a cloud of smoke into her lungs. The Inspector couldn't argue with that. He usually restricted his smoking to moments in which he felt unsettled. Today was the perfect time to indulge in it. Uncomfortable silence settled in, there truly were no words that needed saying. Or so it seemed until Miss Green suddenly said something he hadn't expected.
"She truly does mourn him, despite their differences."
Jack glanced at her, deciding to keep his surprise to himself.
"I didn't express any doubt on the matter," he explained instead.
"But you must think terrible things of their marriage, after what you've witnessed. And what Rosemary told you."
"Must I?" he asked, taking a deep drag.
"It's not the whole truth," Mia stated, obviously completely intent on getting this off her chest. He found himself amazed by how chatty she suddenly became when she felt the need to protect people she cared for. She stared far into the distance, her battle blatantly obvious.
"I have never shared this with anyone, Inspector and until this morning I had no intention to change that... Aidan was in love with Grace for years before Luke discovered his feelings. His cousin's plan to propose shocked him into action, you might say."
Jack nodded darkly.
"I begged him in a letter to see reason and not destroy their friendship, but he was determined."
"He sacrificed his relationship with Mr. O'Neill for his marriage?" Jack asked.
Mia drew air into her lungs before answering.
"I believe he convinced himself that he would be forgiven. That Luke's emotions weren't as strong as his own." She glanced at the Inspector's stony expression. "As I mentioned before, he was a very selfish man."
"And Mrs. Harper? She chose him."
"Gracey was growing to an age where her parents were getting restless. She was always surrounded by who she called 'her two men'. No other suitable bachelor would dare go near her."
"So, she didn't marry him for love then?" Jack asked. Mia shrugged.
"He was a charming young man, Inspector and she was deeply attached to him. So, if you ask me, she did. But what do I know about love or marriage, old maiden that I am?"
It was her thin smile that betrayed the lie. Watching the pattern of lines stretching across her features, Jack suspected that Mia Green knew more about love than most people did – or ever would.
"If Luke had spoken up first, who knows what her decision may have been? But it is as it is."
The cigarettes had long since burned down and Jack buried his hands in his pockets, freezing in the morning air despite the rising heat.
"She was threatening a divorce," he finally stated. "Do you believe the reason for that was Mr. O'Neill?"
He had to give Miss Green that she seemed honestly surprised.
"If that was the case, Inspector, then the reason was Aidan," she stated darkly. "You witnessed his behaviour yesterday."
"Hardly a reason to file for divorce."
She measured him with a brief glance from the side that caused him to look away. He certainly didn't need to discuss his own experience in the matter, yet felt he couldn't hide it.
"Grace had become rather andamant in her wish for children lately. But Aidan wouldn't comply."
Jack's head snapped around.
"He... took measures," Mia explained vaguely. The Inspector didn't even want to know how she had found out about that. Or what those 'measures' entailed exactly. Miss Green pulled out another cigarette. "He'd watched his father struggle for many years. He feared nothing like history repeating itself."
The flame licked at the end of the tobacco, while Jack stared at the woman in astonishment.
"Mr. Harper believed his wife would abandon him and their child? That's a hard cross to bear for a marriage."
Miss Green's expression darkened, as Jack resisted the temptation of indulging further in his nasty habit. It turned out to be quite a challenge today.
"You can imagine that Grace felt rather disheartened by his lack of trust. But he wouldn't budge from his position."
Jack contemplated this for some time while Mia Green smoked in silence. A bitter smile spread across her face.
"It's quite ironic really," she said, dropping the cigarette on the ground. "All his life Aidan's been haunted by his mother's disappearance. And now he died – right on her grave. Minutes from discovering the truth."
"Here you are hiding."
Phryne stepped out onto the terrace before the Inspector could find an answer. "I've been waiting for you to join me."
He cleared his tight throat.
"I was interviewing Miss Green on Mr. Harper's death," he explained calmly.
"And there I believed I was just pouring my heart out to a friendly Inspector," the old Lady quipped while Phryne let her eyes sweep over the garden where the two horses by now where happily grazing on something that had probably been a beloved flower until an hour ago.
"A fruitful conversation I trust?"
Miss Green smiled thinly.
"I would hope so. But as much as I enjoyed the company, Inspector, I think it's time I'd head back inside. My sister had quite a shock today and someone's got to feed our guests."
With that she turned to leave the spouses to themselves, when Phryne called after her.
"I've been wondering, Miss Green. Are those two related?"
The older woman seemed confused for a moment until she realised that the Lady-Detective was still looking at the horses.
"They are sisters; both bred by the O'Neills. Athena was given to Grace as a Christmas gift."
Neither of the spouses had to ask who the present had been from. But Harper's fury about Athena winning the race seemed suddenly a whole lot clearer.
"How did she take it?" Jack asked when they were finally alone. Phryne didn't tear her eyes from the garden.
"As expected. But she complied. Her train is leaving the station in two hours."
"Mr. Butler...?"
"...has been informed, Inspector. While you were charming the female witnesses around here, I've been arranging our daughter's return to Melbourne. Hazel might join her by the looks of it, she is still engaged a rather heatedly argument."
"In favour or against it?" Jack asked.
"She believes someone may have been watching them yesterday. Possibly the author of this letter."
The Inspector hummed under his breath.
"If that's the case, Mac is in just as much danger."
"Mac can hold her own," Phryne argued, "and she knows she is needed here. But she is worried for Hazel." She glanced at her husband and added pointedly: "Understandably."
Jack smiled.
"She obviously has never witnessed her beating up the bigger boys at school. My cousin ia not quite the picture of female fragility she looks."
Phryne finally turned, her back against the balustrade, aiming her eyes at him in amusement.
"Have you ever been at the receiving end of her hidden strengths then, Inspector?"
He tilted his head.
"Once or twice. And believe me, I looked worse than I do now, Miss Fisher."
He probably should have been embarrassed by this confession, but for some reason there seemed no need for it. With a tender smile Phryne touched his bruised cheek, her thumb caressing the sore flesh with the lightest of strokes and complete concentration.
"One could almost think you like them," Jack said, a tad breathlessly at the incredible intimacy of her touch.
She snapped out of her musing, her eyes darkening and he wished he had kept this thought to himself.
"I don't enjoy you getting hurt, Jack."
She tried to retrieve her hand, but he wrapped his finger's over hers, keeping them where they were.
"I didn't say you did."
For a long moment they fought a quiet battle, then she faltered.
"They may add a certain roguish charm."
"Is that so, Miss Fisher?"
Her heart stumbled in her chest at his rough whisper. He leaned in, adding quietly: "In that case I may have to get myself injured more often."
"Don't you dare," she hissed with a smile, surrendering to the urge to kiss him.
A throat was cleared behind them, causing a hurried retreat by the Inspector. He was rather conscious of the role he had taken over in the eyes of the townsfolk, poking around in their business and what they probably wouldn't consider appropriate behaviour. So he was somewhat relieved when he spotted John, smiling grimly.
"I see you have overcome the shock of this morning."
Jack chose to ignore his little stab.
"Any news from the crime scene?" he asked instead. John shook his head.
They've dug up every inch around the tree, but no sign of a second skeleton. What's left of Mrs. Harper is on it's way to the station as we speak."
"If it is indeed her," Phryne stated under her breath.
"If those remains are not the woman you are looking for, that'd be quite a coincidence. But then this town seems to be good for some surprises."
John turned his step back inside in the intention of finally getting some breakfast, but hesitated when something else came to mind. "I still can't stop pondering this date though."
He shook his head while he disappeared to annoy Miss Green some more.
"He has got a point," the Inspector sighed as they left the hotel behind to head back to the police station. "The date doesn't fit."
"Neither does the second name," Phryne added. "But I am more bothered by Mr. Harper's demise at the moment. How did he end up out there with a shovel?"
"Not only a shovel," Jack cut in, recounting his conversations with the widow. Phryne hummed in thought as the Hispano pulled out into the street.
"So Mr. Harper took both his motorcar and his pistol last night. But we found neither near the Rock."
"If the murderer has half a brain at his disposal, he has by now disposed of the weapon," Jack stated. "The car on the other hand would be a lot harder to hide. We should call a search for it. Not many people are in possession-"
"Jack?!"
Her abrupt braking ripped the Inspector from his thoughts. Then he saw what had startled her. In front of the butchery stood a motorcar. Aidan Harper's motorcar.
X
Despite the disappointing news, Dot felt rather uplifted by the idea of having Jane home soon. She didn't like the Fisher residence standing empty, save Mr. Butler of course, and she missed her friend's presence. And so she made her way over to her employer's house with a light heart as soon as Tommy had fallen asleep, sporting a feather duster and a whistled tune under her breath. Drawing the hated household helper over the lampshades in the hall in passing, she twirled to enter the parlour and froze. The back of a woman greeted her, bent over Miss Fisher's desk. She cleared her throat loudly and Nora turned, a letter opener clutched in her hands.
"Miss Aberville? What are you doing here?!"
There was no denying that the nurse looked flustered and Dot made a step towards her, thunderclouds in her eyes. Surely she could not just have witnessed her trying to steal from the Robinsons!?
"Nora?!" The slight threat in her voice tore the young woman from her frozen state.
"It's not... I was trying to write a letter and I ran out of ink," she stuttered. "I'm sorry, I should have asked."
Dorothy arrived in front of the woman and pointedly took the sharp object from her nurse's hands.
"You should have!" she said. "It is one matter if you go onto my things, but I won't accept you rummaging through the Robinson's house. Are we clear?!"
Nora Aberville seemed to shrink underneath her blazing eyes.
"Crystal."
There was the hint of a curtsy before she ducked out of the parlour and hurried down the hall. Sighing, Dot laid down the silvered letter opener with the beautiful pattern on the handle. It would have been a real shame to be lost. But that didn't solve her major problem. What to do with a nurse who seemed to be drawn to glittering things like a magpie? Would a stern talking to make any difference? Or was there no other way than to dismiss her? Dot argued silently with herself while dusting the parlour and straightening the pictures. Her mother would have told her that a servant who wasn't trustworthy had no business being in anyone's employment. But then her Christian virtue's pointed out that everybody deserved a second chance, while a tiny voice which sounded suspiciously like Miss Fisher insisted that she should get to the bottom of things before making any rash decisions. Maybe there was a sick relative or a starving family which needed caring for and had caused Miss Aberville to become light fingered. Of course, it could also be just the hankering for a new dress. She would find out the one or the other way, Dot decided, coughing when she moved some books which her duster had neglected lately.
