I apologize for getting my wires crossed. The wrap-up will take me two whole chapters, so another one to go. But I would like to take the chance and send out my gratitude to the people who were involved in the work it took to finish this story, namely Changedstripes, Ethelfreda and Roseandthistle, as well as my friend Kirsten (who you owe the notorious teatowels to). Thank you.
There seems to be a problem with ff, as chapter 36 keeps disappearing for you guys. I am going to post it a third time now and contact their support if that doesn't fix the issue. Sadly, glitches like this happen, but it is frustrating.
Chapter 36: Callisto
The sun was standing high in the frosty blue sky by the time the group of tired, battered people arrived at St. Kilda. Jane, who had been playing a tense game of Backgammon with Dot, hardly being able to concentrate despite the relieving phone call from the Station two hours ago, was the first on her feet.
"Miss Nowak? They're back."
Dot gently shook Natalija awake, who had fallen asleep in her armchair. She blinked into the morning light, then jumped to her feet, bringing a lamp to a dangerous tremble and followed the others into the hall. Jane was currently being hugged so tightly by Phryne that she couldn't breath. She wasn't at all sure if she wanted to.
"Where's Eddie?" Natalija asked tensely when she realised who was missing. Jack swallowed, wondering how to explain the events. But he was pushed aside by Doctor MacMillan before he had a chance to find an answer in his foggy, exhausted brain.
"Mr. Wenbrock was wounded and is being treated in a hospital right now," she said, taking the girl by the shoulder and leading her back into the parlour.
"What happened to you?" Jane asked Cec, who was holding his arm.
"Played the bloody hero, he did!" Bert grumbled. "One of the thugs stabbed him in the arm."
"He barely broke skin," Yales corrected him. "But Doctor Mac wanted to bandage it up before I head home. We don't wanna scare Alice."
"She looks rather busy at the moment," Jane pointed out, glancing at the Doctor who was comforting a weeping Natalija.
"How about a cup of coffee while you are waiting, Gentlemen?"
The Cabbies looked at each other, then happily followed Mr. Butler into the kitchen, dreaming of a big breakfast to go with their cuppa. Mrs. Robinson's kitchen hardly ever disappointed.
Currently the Lady of the house was busy, squeezing her companion to her chest.
"You might want to head over to your house, Dot," she whispered. "Hugh went home to clean up and I think he is in need of some comfort."
Dot nodded, hurrying away, then turned.
"Thank you for keeping him save, Ma'am."
"Actually, I believe it is my turn to thank him, Dot," Phryne smiled and waved the confused looking maid off. She turned to Jane.
"I actually feel a little peckish too, lets see what Mr. Butler has prepared. Jack?"
She turned to her husband to realise that he was staring at a woman leaning in the parlour door.
"I see," his wife quipped smiling, then she took her daughter and dragged her away to get some food. Silence spread between the people left behind.
"I still can't believe it's you, Jack," Adelheid Willis said. "You were living next door and you didn't have the decency to come over for a cup of tea, after all this time!"
"The fact that I was undercover, meant to be someone else, rendered that somewhat impractical," Jack said calmly. "But it is nice to see you again, Adelheid."
The woman walked closer.
"I could have kept a secret," she said. "You know I always could."
"As I recall, it wasn't necessary to keep any secrets," Jack stated levelly, thinking of Rosie's face as she had discovered the 'affair', before it had ever happened.
Phryne, who, with a cup in her hand was leaning in the door frame to the dining room, intent on not missing the show, couldn't manage to suppress her smile at the stilted conversation. It faded when she watched Adelheid close the gap, briefly running a palm over Jack's hot cheek. The Inspector retreated slightly but was stopped by the door in his back.
"You look terrible, Jack," she said.
"Thank you," he replied dryly. "I had a rough night. So maybe you could tell me why you are here."
For the first time, Adelheid seemed a little embarrassed.
"You know that Terry..."
She trailed off, looking at him from underneath her lashes.
"Worked for Jacob Rose?"
"Only Gabler's, Jack. He worked there long before they 'expanded' in the back. Couldn't exactly say no, could he?"
Jack swallowed down his anger, remembering Phryne's words. There were children starving in Collingwood and blaming a father for not risking his job was probably self-righteous.
"I'll see what I can do," he said, hoping that the conversation would end with that. But Adelheid didn't move.
"You're a good man, Jack. Always have been."
Before either of the spouses had time to react, she had kissed him. Phryne's mouth fell open, but while she still played with the though of snapping the woman's neck, Jack had grasped his old acquaintance's wrists and peeled her from himself, breaking into a coughing attack that was far from romantic.
"Adelheid, that is more than inappropriate!" he ground out hoarsely.
But she just giggled.
"Oh, Jack, you're adorable. But no reason to be worried. Just a little kiss between friends. And I can keep a secret," she added with a wink.
The Inspector shook his head, trying to get rid of the cobwebs clouding his brain. Had the whole world gone insane? Then he gently took Adelheid by the shoulders and removed her from himself.
"If you'll excuse my, I'd like to look after my wife."
A second later he spotted Phryne standing, amusement written across her features, in the dining room.
"You could've helped me," he whispered, joining her and grabbing for a sandwich.
"That would have spoiled all the fun of watching you getting flustered," she smiled.
Jack rested a hand on her hip, watching her out of dark eyes, while he chewed.
"You didn't doubt my loyalty, I take it?" he asked.
"Not for a moment," she quipped, meaning a lot more than the scene in the hall.
His intense eyes were still holding her gaze, as she leaned up to chase any memories of other women's lips away with her own.
"Come on then you two love birds," a yawning voice sounded from the door. "Let's get you taken care of so you can get some rest."
Phryne rolled her eyes at Mac, while she retreated.
"Talking about rest, Mac, when was the last time you have gotten any sleep?"
A dismissive gestures was the only answer she received.
"Maybe if you stop shooting people there will be time for me to get some rest," Mac grumbled, throwing another look at Natalija, who watched the scene with absent eyes.
"I've hardly shot at anyone today," Phryne protested and glanced out into the hall that was decidedly empty. "Has our house guest left?"
"If you are talking about your obnoxious neighbour, she just pulled the door shut behind herself. Miss Nowak will accompany me to the hospital, once I am done here. She seems rather fond of Mr. Wenbrock."
The spouses shared an amused look.
"I guess you could say that," Jack prompted, taking his wife's hand and dragging her towards the stairs.
"I don't even want to know!" the Doctor mumbled, following the couple to the upper floor with her bag in hand, while suppressing a yawn.
"As you please, Mac," Phryne grinned and added with a careful glance at Jack: "But I do need to ask you something."
X
Commissioner Sanderson looked up from the mountain of paperwork, when his assistant entered.
"Mr. Easton, please take a seat. I would like to talk to you about what happened this morning."
"About the press, Sir?"
Sanderson nodded.
"I am fairly certain that the papers will be full with both the kidnapping and the bloodshed at Coburg tomorrow. Let's make sure, they get it right this time."
"I will do my hardest, Sir."
Mr. Easton rose, just when a knock sounded at the door.
"Come," Sanderson called. The two police officers obeyed. Both looked tired after the long night.
"Would you like me to bring some more coffee, Sir?" Jarrod Easton asked, continuing his way to the door.
"Actually, please stay," George prompted. "I am not certain if you have met Inspector Morgan, Constable Jones."
"A pleasure, Gentlemen," Mr. Easton quipped, rather confused. He wasn't used to being formally introduced to police officers.
"I doubt that," the Inspector quipped, pulling out his handcuffs.
"That won't be necessary," Sanderson said, gesturing for the irons to be put away.
Easton looked from one man to the other.
"I don't understand," he stated, smiling thinly.
George Sanderson stood up behind his desk, leaning his heavy palms onto the table. The officers weren't the only ones who had had a rough night.
"I asked the men to come to arrest you, Mr. Easton. You see, I kept wondering how Little Jacob could have known about the Robinson's assignment in Collingwood. There was too much coincidence for no planning to be involved. Mr. Carter's appearance in both their neighbourhood as Robinson's working place for one.
"Of course," Easton pointed out calmly. "He was meant to keep an eye on him. We arranged for this, Sir!"
"Yet, the foreman responsible for employing him wasn't told that Carter worked for the Victorian police but for Little Jacob."
"Just a bluff, Commissioner. The men there are a lot less likely to cooperate with the police than they are scared of a Grog Baron in their neighbourhood. I couldn't know it was the truth."
Sanderson smiled grimly.
"Yet, you failed to mention this Grog Baron to me that you were so familiar with? I do believe you were bluffing a lot, Mr. Easton."
The clerk looked at him calmly.
"You do not seriously accuse me of having been involved in Mr. Carter's betrayal, Sir?"
Sanderson cleared his throat, quizzically staring at his assistant.
"I believe in fact much more. On my orders you carefully planned the set up of the Robinsons in Collingwood, right between the Carters and the Willis family - with the husband working in the back rooms of Gabler's and the wife being known for being a chatterbox. All a coincidence on the first look, but really not, was it, Mr. Easton?"
The clerk opened his mouth, then closed it again.
"But do you know what really gave you away?" Sanderson asked conversationally, sitting back down.
"Enlighten me, Sir," the man pressed out.
"You leave my office every evening at exactly the same time. I can set my clock after it. Yet, last night, when I returned from City South, you were still here. You knew that Rose had Jack! And you were also were aware of his intentions to head for Pentridge while we were distracted, should the ransom fail."
"So, it was my hard work that proved my guilt to you?" Jarrod Easton asked, smiling faintly.
"I'm afraid so," Sanderson said, nodding.
"Why didn't you have me arrested then?" the clerk asked.
George took his glasses off his nose, starting to polish them, a nervous habit that his assistant knew all too well.
"I was hoping you would give Rose's plan away," he finally stated, smiling. "And you did. When Mrs. Collins telephoned, the hangman was already on his way to Pentridge."
He looked up at the two officers, who stared at him with their mouths open, as if he had briefly forgotten their presence.
"I didn't have enough manpower to stop Rose from invading the Bluestone College and save the Robinsons at the same time. But I was certainly not going to allow Rose to free his sister."
Grimly smiling, he closed a folder on his desk.
"Whenever you're ready, Gentleman," he prompted, when all three men just kept staring at him. Finally, Inspector Morgan awoke from his stunned silence and did the honours.
X
"You said it was a simple cold!"
The accusation in Phryne's voice caused Mac to roll her eyes at her friend, who was propped up in bed, with her finally properly washed and bandaged shoulder carefully bedded on a pillow.
"I also recall recommending rest and chicken soup, not throwing yourselves into the Yarra and wandering damp basement."
Phryne pulled her lips into a pout.
"That was hardly Jack's fault."
"As much as I am enjoying this discussion," the Inspector cut in, rubbing his stinging chest, where Mac's stethoscope was still pressed to his hot skin, "I would be more interested to know if I should be worried about this."
"As I said, it's a mild case of pneumonia, Jack. You're running a fever and breathing will be painful for a while, but you should be back to your old, reckless self in about two week's time."
As she said that, the Doctor grabbed his chin, carefully inspecting his face, before grabbing for a saturated cloth and cleaning the dried blood from his scratch.
"But I do want you to rest. And when I say that, I mean stay in bed, not chase criminals!" she explained rather sharply, dabbing at his wound.
"I will inform the underworld that we will have to reschedule," Jack joked, then flinched when the iodine burned its way into his cut.
"It's not too deep but will probably leave a small scar," Mac said after a pause. Jack couldn't suppress a grin while he glanced at his still pouting wife.
"Another one for Phryne's collection then," he smiled.
"She will have a rather pretty one herself," Mac stated grimly. "I find it amazing how the two of you manage to always stand in the way of the most dangerous criminals at the wrong time."
"We are very gifted," Phryne quipped, blowing her nose.
"I have to agree. And before you ask, this is merely a plain old cold and if you refrain from taking any more bathes in the river within the next week, it will remain just that," Mac stated, packing up her instruments. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll have to get back to the hospital; there is a fair amount of recently wounded people to take care of."
"Thank you, Mac," the Inspector smiled, buttoning up his pyjamas.
"Anytime, Jack. Even though I would prefer it to be less frequent, if you can arrange it.
"We shall try our hardest," Phryne quipped from the bed while sipping a cup of tea.
"And doubtlessly fail," Mac grumbled, grabbing her bag and leaving, before her annoyance could fully evaporate. Patching up her friends had never been a particular favourite of hers and there really were plenty of wounded in the hospital. She also did hope to be able to collapse into her bed some time within the next 24 hours.
Her friend's disappearance was followed by a sneeze from Phryne. When she resurfaced and leaned back into a bed that she hadn't recalled to be quite this soft and wonderful, she realised that Jack was riffling around in her things.
"Are you coming to bed?" she asked, sleepily.
"Just a moment, Miss Fisher," he requested, then finally he had found what he'd been looking for. Happily he produced a key and unlocked a very special drawer. Phryne smiled when he sat down on the bed and extended his right palm in which their rings lay. Instead of taking either of her own, Phryne fished for Jack's. Obediently he stretched out his hand and let his wife slip the symbol of their union over his shaky finger, before helping her with both her wedding and her engagement ring. Neither of them said a word. The contact with the soft pillows had made the Inspector realise that he was so exhausted that he feared he'd have to sleep on the covers in lack of energy to crawl underneath them. A cough shook him awake enough to realise that that was a terrible idea.
"Jack?" Phryne asked, while he pulled the blanket up to his shoulder, trying to ignore his freezing limbs. He nodded silently. Phryne wanted to tell him everything. That she wasn't sure how to feel about the sibling's deaths; that she was worried about Eddie; that asking Mac if she could help with Natalija's abortion didn't mean that she hadn't listened to his side in their quarrel; that she was embarrassed about how cruel she had been in said argument. But mostly how much she had feared for him.
Instead she just raised her hand and stroked his flushed face, then pulled him closer and pressed a kiss to his hot lips.
"What is it?" he whispered.
"Nothing that can't wait until the morning," Phryne said, letting her eyes fall shut. Jack was asleep before he could point out that it was only lunch time.