Chapter 19 Kidnapping at Wardlow
My husband said that a chapter of intrigue was needed. This is what came of that. Note this chapter has violence and nonconsensual situations. Reader discretion is advised.
Several days after Christmas Phryne insists that Jack take his parents, Jane, Robert and Dot out to lunch at Café Replique. She just needs alone time so she doesn't have to pretend to be cheerful, and if she has to play one more game of cards she might scream out loud rather than just on the inside. Her aversion to cards is legendary. With guests she does try to be amenable, and since she is limited in the games she can play, and as only two can play draughts she acknowledges to herself that card games make sense; still playing them is driving her to distraction. Everyone trying to keep her spirits up is also vexing; from time to time one just wants to sit on the ash heap for a while! And truth be told she still sometimes thinks of the babies in the abstract, not as immortal people who will be breathing, eating, demanding attention and changing her life. She believes no one will understand these thoughts, and so she keeps them locked inside with all her other bad wife and mother thoughts in order to spare the others.
"Phryne, are you sure?" Jack asks doubtfully, eyeing her with a piercing gaze, his blue eyes fixed on hers noting the shadows, but saying nothing as he sees the determined tilt of the chin.
"Yes, Jack! I don't want everyone staying in because of me."
"You do know they truly do not mind?"
She sighs heavily unwilling to explain herself, not sure she could in any case, "Please, take everyone out. Jane and Robert need a change of scene and fresh air even if no one else does."
Jack continues to stare at her until she blushes faintly and requests a visit to the loo, "then I'm going to read the new book your Mother gave me, and when you return everyone can delight me with tales of the day's adventures."
"Very well," Jack gives in his insides roiling with a bit of concern, but the set of Phryne's jaw brooks no further discussion so he takes her to the bathroom and waits patiently for her to make whatever ablutions she desires.
After Jack gets Phryne settled back in her bed, the family leaves Mr. B in charge and troops off the happy chatter ringing in Phryne's ears as she settles in with her book confident she can manage a few hours alone with Mr. Butler. She doesn't read for long before the excitement of the past few days with so many extra people in the house takes its toll, and she falls fast asleep. She turns over seeking a more comfortable position, her ears pricking at an unusual sound and her nose twitching at a sickeningly sweet smell, and opening her eyes she finds strangers in her room. Before she can articulate anything her nose and mouth are covered with a chloroform soaked rag and she loses consciousness.
At the restaurant Jack gets a chill feeling that something is wrong, the hair on his neck rising and fear slicing through him. He doesn't let the group linger because he really doesn't want Phryne left with only Mr. B to help her for any length of time. There is nothing Mr. Butler won't do for her, but he does have a household to run – a rather large one at the moment. Jack says nothing about his concerns as they walk back to Wardlow, the summer sun hot on their heads and shoulders. He chats quietly with his parents as Jane and Robert trail behind slightly; lost in their own conversation.
When Jack and the others make it back to the St. Kilda address, they find the house eerily quiet. Jack immediately goes up stairs to check in on Phryne. The shout he gives echoes through the entire house.
"Jack, what is going on?" his father asks concern etching his still handsome features as Jack pounds down the steps at a run. The lips so like Jack's quirking up at his son.
"Phryne's gone," Jack grinds out as he pushes past his father and heads to the kitchen calling for Mr. Butler as he races along.
He finds Mr. Butler sprawled on the floor in a pool of blood with blood still oozing from a gash to his head. Jack quickly checks the butler's pulse relieved to find it steady.
"Mother," Jack calls, "please come attend to Mr. Butler until Dr. McMillan can get here. Don't move him."
Jack moves hurriedly to the phone and calls Mac then Hugh. He gives no details just that they must come immediately. He sends the rest of the family to the parlor until they can process the scene for clues.
While waiting for Collins and Mac Jack sits at the dining room table thinking, "Who would take Phryne in her condition?" he muses aloud.
His father places a calming hand on Jack's shoulder. "Father, I can't lose them. I have to find her," his blue eyes shimmering slightly as the anguish, fear and anger flash through them.
His father squeezes his shoulder. No words are necessary as they exchange concerned looks.
When Hugh arrives they process the scene carefully while Mac attends Mr. Butler.
There are few clues – the handkerchief with the chloroform, a footprint on the stoop at the kitchen door.
"Who would do this Inspector?" Hugh asks gravely.
"I don't know Hugh. I really can't fathom who would take a pregnant woman from her home," Jack responds heavily.
Phryne wakes retching to find herself bound, gagged and blindfolded. She is lying on a very dusty, musty mattress. Still groggy she falls asleep again. When she next wakens she can tell it is later. She is very thirsty, nauseous and in need of the loo.
She hears someone coming and momentarily they grab her roughly and remove the gag. The sudden movement is too much and she vomits her stomach heaving painfully, the bitter taste and smell gagging her even further.
A string of curses and a slap to her face follow. Then there is the sound of a person moving away from her and silence.
A few minutes later she hears footsteps again – lighter, quicker, "Now then Miss," she hears a young accented voice say, "I'm here to clean you up."
"Thank you," Phryne says softly feeling as though she might be sick again, her cheek is throbbing painfully in time to her heartbeat.
"I can't remove the blindfold or untie you," the voice says. At Phryne's nod of understanding the girl gently bathes Phryne's face and cleans up the rest of the vomit which helps the nausea to fade slightly.
"I'm very thirsty," Phryne says quietly, "may I have a drink?"
The girl's thickly accented voice replies in the affirmative and she leaves.
After a time, Phryne hears the girl returning and she can smell Ginger tea, "Thank you."
The girl holds the cup to Phryne's lips, and she drinks slowly the warm sweet tea washing away the last of the bile and further settling her stomach.
"What is your name," she asks conversationally.
"I'm not supposed to talk with you," the girl answers very softly.
"I understand," Phryne breathes in response. "Is it possible to loosen my bonds? My hands and arms are falling asleep."
"Let me see."
Phryne rolls awkwardly so the girl can take a look.
"I'll tell them. Finish your tea now Miss."
Phryne finishes the tea grateful for its warmth and sweetness.
"Thank you for the tea and for cleaning me up," she murmurs drowsy again.
She falls into a light sleep again wondering what she can do to escape.
She is again awakened by rough handling and an urgent need for the loo. "I need to use the loo."
"No" is the guttural response.
"You're going to have a right mess on your hands again very soon then," she says softly trying to keep emotion out of her voice and not provoke the man, but she receives another ringing slap which she is sure will leave yet another bruise. Biting her lip to keep from lashing out she says, "Why am I here? What do you intend to do with me? I can pay you money to release me."
Harsh laughter meets these words "I intend for Jack Robinson to suffer, and I plan to send you to him one piece at a time, but first…" He breaks off his flow of words.
Phryne schools her features to try not to react or flinch. Suddenly her head is jerked back, her hair pulled painfully away from her scalp by the rough hands. She feels his lips on hers in a rough punishing kiss, and she is suddenly animal like in her desire to get away from him knowing what is likely coming. She twists as best she can while bound, but can't escape his torturous onslaught. He moves to her neck viciously biting at her soft skin. She can't help the slight whimper of fear that escapes her as his teeth sink into her skin yet again.
"Papa?" she hears the small voice from across the room and a knocking at the door.
"I told you not to disturb me," but he drops Phryne like a ragdoll. "Come in."
"I know," she says as she opens the door her voice trembling slightly, "but Mama is calling for you. You said if she woke to come and get you."
In the tussle that had taken place the blindfold had been dislodged, and Phryne though shaken attempts to take in as much about her surroundings as possible while she can.
The girl looks to be about 13 or so years old. She is very pretty and foreign looking. The man has his back to her. He looks vaguely familiar, but she isn't placing him yet. Then he turns slightly and she sees the scar running down his face. She shivers, it is Roberto Salvatore, and the man is a psychotic personality.
"Take that," he jerks his head back toward Phryne, "to the loo." And pushing past the girl he leaves them alone.
The girl comes to help Phryne and notices the blindfold is not covering her eyes completely. She pulls it back into place her large dark eyes taking in the slap marks on Phryne's face, the bite marks on her neck and her swollen lips.
"I'm going to untie your legs so you can walk to the bathroom."
Phryne stumbles slightly when she stands as she is still unsteady, and her feet hurt from the sudden return of circulation. The girl steadies her. Phryne smiles her thanks and they move slowly making their way to the bathroom. Phryne tries to count the steps in her head and how many turns there are when she feels the sun on her face. She immediately thinks of an outdoor bath, but she is wrong. The bathroom is just next door to a large window.
It is rather awkward to manage the loo between her large belly, blindfolded eyes and having her hands tied, but the girl helps her as best she can. Phryne feels much improved despite the circumstances upon emptying her bladder and moving around a bit, although her belly feels very heavy with the weight of the babies since she isn't used to standing for any length of time.
Phryne hears and smells food being prepared; her stomach growls loudly. It sounds like a large kitchen with multiple people. She wonders if she is being held at a restaurant based on how much commotion there seems to be. The girls stops her along the route, and Phryne detects the smell of fresh bread and more ginger tea when they start off again. They return to the room where she is being held the faint smell of vomit lingering still.
The girl leads her back to the bed and binds her feet again though the bonds are not nearly as tight as before.
Phryne hears a window open and the breeze carries in the scents of the city and washes away the final smells of her earlier sickness. The girl then unbinds Phryne's arms and Phryne rubs her wrists and shakes feeling back into her arms wincing as the needlelike sensations travel from her shoulders to the tips of her fingers. The girl urges Phryne to eat her fill of the bread which has been slathered in fresh butter and to drink her tea which is again warm and sweet.
"Hurry now before he returns," the girls says anxiously.
"Please tell me your name," Phryne asks as she pops the last bite of bread into her mouth chewing quickly."
"My name is Teodora," the girl whispers as she ties the knots of rope around Phryne's arms – again not tying so tight as to restrict the circulation.
"Do you know why I have been taken, Teodora?" Phryne questions her.
Teodora responds in the negative, but then adds, "Papa talks all the time of what Jack Robinson took from him."
They both hear movement approaching and the question forming on Phryne's lips falls silent as moments later another person bursts into the room.
Meanwhile at Wardlow the atmosphere is tense enough to cut with a knife as Mac attends Mr. Butler and the Inspector and Hugh try to sort out what they have.
"Inspector," Dot says tentatively, "why don't you let me examine that handkerchief for a moment?"
At Jack's curt nod she takes the handkerchief which still reeks of the chloroform in her gloved hands and examines it carefully. "I knew it!" she exclaims excitedly.
"What is it?" Jack and Hugh chorus.
"There is a tiny laundry mark in the corner," she says proudly holding the handkerchief out for them to look at again.
"Well spotted Dot," Jack says his voice gravelly, but a bit more energetic.
Blushing Dot just nods.
"Collins, take Dot around to all the laundries and see what you come up with."
"Yes Sir, Inspector," Hugh replies moving to gather his things.
"Pardon me Inspector, Hugh, but I think I should go alone. If I am going to get information it won't be with a Constable by my side."
Seeing the look Hugh gives her, she adds hastily, "No offense Hugh."
Hugh raises his hands in surrender looking to Jack for guidance.
"You're sure?" Jack asks tentatively.
At Dot's quick nod the he adds, "Call Cec and Bert to drive you."
"No Inspector, you may need them to do other investigations. I can handle this part on my own," Dot responds firmly.
Jack nods realizing they can cover more ground this way.
"Dot, call Cec and Bert and have them meet us at City South," Jack orders. "Jane, Robert, Mother and Father stay with Mr. Butler and by the phone. Whoever has her may call."
Jane nods looking scared, and Jack pulls her into a fierce hug. "We'll find her," he chokes out.
Sniffling Jane nods into Jack's chest her hold on him every bit as tight as his is on her. Giving her a final squeeze her turns to go. Jane shuffles over to Jack's mother who enfolds Jane in her comforting arms whispering soothing words into her ear.
"Collins, let's get to the station and see who's been released or escaped from gaol."
Dot sets out determined to find the laundry whose mark is on the handkerchief. It seems hopeless, but she keeps walking and stopping at every laundry she comes across, making careful notes of where she has been. As each negative response comes she continues to persevere and ask if they might know the laundry in question.
Several hours later a hot and sweaty Dot stops at a laundry in Little Lonsdale. The wizened old man eyes her critically, "It isn't my mark," he say in his heavily accented English. Seeing the slump in Dot's shoulders he adds, "But I think I know whose it may be. Come have some tea and biscuits."
Dot gratefully accepts the offer and after a visit to the loo to wash up she is feeling better as she sinks into a chair and drinks the fragrant tea. "Delicious, thank you and these Anzac biscuits are as good as my Mother's," Dot says taking another and biting into it hungrily.
"My wife is a most excellent cook," the man says eyeing Dot with a beady stare. "The laundry that bears that mark has been closed for some time now."
At Dot's crestfallen look he shakes his head stopping her unvoiced lament. Dropping his voice to a faint whisper he tells her, "Some say the Camorra ran it."
Dot's eyes widen in excitement and dawning comprehension and concern as she connects the potential implications.
"Asking questions can be a risky business. I suggest you halt your search before the wrong people get wind of it."
Dot nods her face and eyes clearly conveying she understands, "Thank you for the tea and biscuits. I really must be on my way. Thank you again for your kindness," she says putting the handkerchief carefully in her bag.
"Take care Miss."
"I will," and holding out her hand to him she give his wrinkled hand a soft squeeze before standing up wearily on her sore feet.
She begins the long trek back to the station eventually taking a tram, catching out of the corner of her eye the figure of a man she noticed earlier slipping into a seat to her left and back a row or two. He seems to be surreptitiously watching her. The hair on her neck prickles uncomfortably. Making a split second decision she leaves her seat and exits the tram just as the doors are about to close noticing the man looks dismayed at her departure.
She takes just a moment to get her bearings and decides to call for a taxi before the man can get off the tram and track her further. At the first taxi that comes by she climbs in saying as she does so, "City South Police, please."
At City South, Hugh and Jack are poring over the lists of those who have been released or escaped from prison. The list is several pages long and Hugh makes notes along the way, but near the bottom of the list one name stands out and Jack's hands curl into fists as he says the name aloud, "Roberto Salvatore." His mind immediately returns to the events of the Murder and Mozzarella case and how Salvatore had threatened him and ultimately Phryne though they had been unscathed at the time – "I will not touch a hair on your little policeman head – but I know the names of the people you hold dear." "It's him," Jack grinds out thickly.
"How can you be sure, Sir?" Hugh asks dazedly.
"I can't explain it Hugh, but I know it's him. If you had seen his face the day Miss Fisher stopped him…"
Just then the front door opens and they hear Dot's quick footsteps coming toward the office. Hugh quickly opens the door and sweeps her in closing the door immediately.
"Miss Williams, what have you found out?" Jack asks.
"Well sir, I believe from my investigation that the Camorra are involved somehow." Hugh gasps his wide blue eyes meeting Jack's.
Giving Hugh a significant look, Jack's voice drops a bit, "This is the confirmation we need. Do tell all Miss Williams."
So Dot fills them in on what she had found in her search, including her suspicions that she may have been followed.
"Hugh, ask Cec and Bert to come in." Jack orders his voice deep and anxious. "We need to be extra cautious and discrete.
Hugh goes out to get Cec and Bert who are hanging out in their taxi around the corner near the pie cart. It is now well after 6:00 in the evening and night will be falling soon.
When Cec and Bert enter the office, Jack wastes no time in laying out the plan.
"Bert, Cec make very discreet inquiries at the docks."
"Hugh, check in with our Camorra contacts. I am going to go by Strano's and see if Papa Antonio has anything to share."
"Inspector, what can I do to help," Dot asks anxiously.
"Dot, please return to Wardlow – someone may show up or call. And Jane needs you."
"Yes, sir. And Inspector," Dot puts a hand on Jack's arm, "please find her."
Jack nods vaguely already deep in thought as he pulls on his overcoat and grabs his fedora.
Phryne waits with baited breath to find out who entered the room.
"Phryne Robinson?" a soft feminine voice questions.
"Yes and who are you?" Phryne asks finding it difficult to place the voice with certainty out of context; not wanting to voice her thought in case guessing incorrectly causes angst.
"I'm Concetta. Do you remember me from Strano's restaurant?"
"Yes, I do remember you - you're quite unforgettable in fact," Phryne whispers. "Can you help me?"
"I am not certain, but I will try."
"You must find the Inspector, Jack I mean, and tell him where I am," Phryne's voice is urgent.
"I am not certain I will be able to do that Phryne," Concetta says timidly.
"Please try," the fear she can't quite dismiss coloring her response.
"I will try. Right now you need to try to rest. Roberto has been called away. I will bring you some additional food and a blanket and pillow." Concetta says. "Teodora, please get a pillow and blanket for Mrs. Robinson."
The girl nods and leaves her footsteps echoing softly on the tile.
"You must get me out of here since he is gone," Phryne commands.
"This I cannot do. He has left guards on the outside doors. Try to be patient Phryne. I need to think. He doesn't know I am here, but his guards will tell him that I dropped by. I overheard some talk when I came to visit my friend Giselle – Teodora's mother – and came to see for myself."
"What are his intentions?" Phryne asks with a toss of her head thinking back to what Roberto said to her earlier.
"They are not good. Roberto's intentions toward his enemies are never pleasant Phryne. If he didn't think women are stupid, I would likely not be alive, but he doesn't realize that I think for myself on occasion. He also doesn't realize that I am not loyal to him."
Taking in Phryne's bruises and bite marks which stand out vividly purple on her alabaster skin, Concetta says, "I will try to figure out a way to keep him from you and to inform Jack, but I can't promise it will happen quickly."
"Can you untie me? Can you give me a dagger or a lock pick?" Phryne asks an edge of desperation in her voice, "You could go to my home and retrieve them for me."
"I will loosen the ropes on your arms some more," which she does. Phryne wiggles her fingers and relaxes her shoulders a bit as Concetta continues, "Teodora will bring food again. No one else can know I have seen you so I must go. If Teo weren't so concerned about you she wouldn't have said anything. She is understandably terrified of angering her father. Also I can't go to your house. I'm not certain that Roberto doesn't have me followed on a regular basis. It would endanger anyone there as well as me."
At Phryne's understanding nod, Concetta continues, "Does any particular food sound good to you and the baby?"
"Babies," Phryne corrects automatically, "and anything sounds good. I'm ravenous."
"Babies?" Concetta questions.
"Yes, three to be exact."
"Gianni must be very excited," Concetta says dark eyes widening, her tone growing a bit wistful even as the slip of the endearment registers in Phryne's mind.
"He is," Phryne agrees quietly. "I certainly never intended for this to happen, but since it has, seeing Jack's excitement and joy causes me to be happy and excited some of the time as well. I think I will be a terrible mother," she confesses in a whisper.
"You love Gianni, you will be a good mother to his children," Concetta says with a confidence Phryne rarely feels regarding the subject.
"Thank you. It means a lot to me that you would say that."
"Si, capisco," Concetta says lapsing into Italian. "Try to rest for the sake of the bambini."
Phryne nods again and Concetta helps her to the bed.
Jack makes his way to Strano's knowing that the family, such as it is now, won't eat until after the restaurant closes. Jack is thankful that he was able to help Marianna escape with minor jail time since she provided important evidence regarding Roberto Salvatore, and that the M and M case had convinced Papa Antonio to allow the young lovers to marry and start a family.
The entire family except for Concetta was there when Jack arrived, just sitting down to eat, one little one in Papa Antonio's lap and the other in Marianna's.
"Good Evening," Jack greets them.
"Jack, it is good to see you," Vincenzo says heartily. "Are you hungry?"
Jack simply shakes his head in the negative unable to participate in small talk and jumps right into the problem.
Papa Antonio's eyes grow stormier and stormier as he listens to Jack's quietly worded tale.
"I believe Salvatore is behind it," Jack breathes at last.
"Hmm," is all Papa Antonio says, but the looks he give Jack and Vincenzo tell another story altogether.
"Concetta went to see Giselle today, Papa," Marianna says delicately her large brown eyes concerned.
Understanding dawning on the old man's face he tells Jack he must stay to eat. "You must Inspector. You will want to speak with Concetta when she returns. She should return soon."
"Why would I…" Jack starts, but he is interrupted by Papa Antonio, "Giselle is Roberto's wife. She is very sick and Concetta visits her frequently. They are dear friends."
"Oh," is all Jack can choke out.
"You must keep your strength up Inspector."
At Jack's resigned nod Marianna fixes him a plate of pasta and he halfheartedly takes a bite feeling just a bit nauseous, but realizes as he chews that he is actually quite hungry, and as he has to wait on Concetta to return, he may as well spend the time eating.
They make small talk for quite some time before Concetta comes in. She seems upset and calls for her Father almost immediately; before she registers that Jack is there.
"Gianni," she gasps in surprise. Gathering herself she launches forward and pulling him by the hand into a corner away from the others begins to whisper to him about what she has seen.
Phryne is grateful for the loosening of her bonds. She might just be able to get them off now. She eats the food Teodora brings her, "What is wrong with your mother, Teodora?"
"I don't know exactly what it is called, but she coughs up a lot of blood," Teodora answers sadly, "And she is very thin and she is not allowed to even sit up in the bed right now."
Phryne's heart goes out to Giselle since, for all her confinement, she has been able to do a few things that resemble some normalcy – not to mention that being married to Roberto Salvatore would be a heavy cross to bear. Thinking of crosses makes her think of Dot and she wonders how they are doing on the investigation. "I can't depend on them to find me before he does something…" she shudders her face blanching.
"Are you ok Miss Phryne?" Teo asks with concern.
"I'm as ok as I can be given the circumstances," Phryne responds heavily. "When do you think your Father might return?"
"He didn't tell me anything, and I didn't hear him tell Mama anything either."
Shaking her head Phryne says, "I'm quite weary. I'm going to try to sleep now."
"I understand. My Mama is quite weary always as well."
"I'm very sorry your Mother is so ill." Phryne doesn't share with the girl that she is fairly certain her mother has tuberculosis, consumption or the white plague many call it, and that is sounds like her case is quite serious.
Teo returns the blindfold to Phryne's eyes and helps her lie down. "Goodnight Miss Phryne," she says softly.
"Goodnight Teo."
When Teo is gone, Phryne assesses her bonds and finds she can slip out of them. She does so and also removes the blindfold and her leg bindings.
She takes a good look around the room assessing for any potential escape routes. The windows are too high for her to reach without a chair, and she is in no condition to attempt to exit through a window she can't reach. Perhaps something else will present her with options if she looks around the room longer. She spies a couple of door handles in the room and she awkwardly rolls off the mattress and onto her feet to investigate.
"Most unhelpful," she breathes as she reaches the first door only to find it locked. The second door is a small storage room with a lower window that she can reach. She unlocks it and carefully raises it and peers out. The coast appears clear and the drop shouldn't be more than a foot or so if she holds on to the window ledge. Thinking about the look in Roberto's eyes and what he has already done to her, the decision is black and white. She has to try to free herself and to trust that the Almighty will protect the babies. She can't let that man touch her again if there is any way out!
She turns and carefully begins to get into a position to exit via the window. She has to go feet first and then get her stomach through the window so she can make her escape. Phryne has just gotten her legs out the window and is working on getting her belly over the ledge when the door bursts open and rough hands drag her back into the storage room and onto the floor.
She hits the floor hard and immediately curls up in pain. With a snarl of rage he grabs her by the hair and begins dragging her back into the room. He flings her back on the mattress and she falls heavily against it winded and trying not to let fear overcome her wits.
He takes out a long knife, "perhaps I'll send Jack Robinson his bambino in pieces before I send him yours." And Roberto Salvatore laughs the maniacal sound filling the room.
Phryne watches seeking an out, any way of escape, but finds none. She decides she needs to buy time and get him talking.
"Tell me about your wife," she says.
"You leave my Giselle out of this," he says slapping her again and bringing blood to her lip. It is all Jack Robinson's fault I don't have the money needed for the right kind of treatment," he growls out through gritted teeth.
"But," Phryne starts, but Roberto is not listening. He is unbuttoning his pants. She swallows hard, He has placed the knife on the floor, but it is too far for her to reach. Sensing the inevitable she becomes reckless.
"So this is how you find pleasure? In perversion and force when your dying wife is just down the hall? And your young daughter? You are a sick man Roberto Salvatore."
He laughs again freeing his manhood. "I can't wait to tell Jack Robinson every single detail of how I had you and forced you to do unspeakable things." Picking up the knife again, he comes closer. "Turn over."
"No!"
He brings the knife swiftly up to her neck and draws blood, "turn over now or the next one will be across your stomach and I will force you over."
"I…no!"
"I said roll over," and with a ringing backhanded slap across her face he flings her over again bringing the knife to her neck.
"Now just what will upset the little policeman the most?" he muses smothering her face into the mattress. She struggles against him.
"Yes, I like a woman with fight, Phryne Robinson. Go ahead and fight me." He fumbles with her nightgown attempting to push it up, but she thrashes like a Tasmanian devil. Still he is stronger and eventually he pushes her down, ripping her knickers away with the knife letting her feel the cold edge of the steel against her now naked backside ignoring the new cut he has made in her tender skin.
Suddenly there is a growl of rage, the growl of someone she has been longing for desperately, and Roberto Salvatore is lifted bodily away from her and thrown across the room.
"Jack be careful. He has a knife," Phryne pants turning to watch.
Jack doesn't acknowledge her. He is enraged in a way that she has rarely, well to be honest, never seen as he advances on Roberto.
Phryne tries to scramble up to help him, but she over-balances and falls back to the mattress completely breathless fear coursing through her for a totally different reason now.
Jack advances on Roberto Salvatore, the scene he just witnessed playing in his mind, his blood zinging through him. "I am going to kill you," Jack grits out his angry voice low and deep.
"You can't kill me Jackie. You are an officer of the law," taunts Roberto who has taken the moments Jack was moving to shove himself back into his pants and to get a better grip on the knife. "I'll be able to kill you both now. I wanted to send her to you in small piece and the bub also."
White hot rage courses through Jack's veins. He can't hear Phryne desperately screaming at him, or Hugh and the other constables rushing in. All he can think of is killing the man who would threaten his family and do horrifying things to his wife. He gets close to Salvatore, but he has raised his hands in surrender; has dropped the knife to the floor.
Jack stops moving forward attempting to assess the new posture. Is it a trick to get him to lower his guard he wonders? Gradually as he assesses this change his blood stops pounding and he begins to hear the shouts of chaos around him.
Not taking his eyes off of Roberto he asks, "Hugh, is that you?"
"Yes Sir, Inspector. And I have the backup you requested."
"Do you have him totally covered Constable?" Jack asks calming a good deal.
"Yes we do sir. If he so much as flinches he will see his Maker."
Nodding Jack backs up, and once he can see that the men have it well in hand he turns to Phryne. He sees that she is a bedraggled mess, her once snowy nightgown covered with blood, dirt and vomit stains. His eyes take in the visible bruises and cuts, and he grips his hands into tight fists, his jaw clenching forcefully as the threat of losing control and allowing his desire to forget that he is a man of the law nearly overtakes him. He wishes fervently that he could overlook the law he is sworn to uphold; he breathes heavily, his heart pounding.
"Get him out of here," he barks at Hugh.
Roberto laughs his sick laugh yet again and Hugh places a restraining hand on Jack before he loses it completely. "Inspector, he isn't worth it and Mrs. Robinson needs you – she's going into shock."
Jack's attention snaps back to Phryne who is indeed shaking uncontrollably the chatter of her teeth evident now. As Jack approaches and the constables bring Salvatore by them she flinches back her eyes fearful.
Jack takes his handkerchief from his pocket and holds it out to her, but doesn't touch her. "Phryne we need to put this on the cut on your neck."
She nods the calm familiar voice penetrating the haze of pain and fear. Jack moves closer and places the handkerchief on the cut noting that it may need stitches. Then noticing that the men are staring at her, he gathers up the blanket and wraps it tightly around her. Then he scoops her into his arms, his anger coursing through him once again as she stiffens against him.
He deposits her in the seat of the police vehicle and sits beside her. "221B, The Esplanade St. Kilda," Jack says roughly to the constable in the front seat.
"But Sir, shouldn't we go to the hospital?" the young man asks.
Jack feels Phryne stiffen further beside him, "Johnson, I'll let you know if I want to go to the hospital, but Dr. McMillan is standing by at Wardlow to tend Mrs. Robinson." At these words Jack feels Phryne relax slightly.
As the driver pulls away, Jack begins to whisper to her. "You're safe now. I've got you. You're going to be fine. We got him. I love you." She stiffens again her face blanching. "I love you Phryne – no matter what."
Tears begin to trickle down her face leaving tracks as they fall, but she says nothing. She does, however, reach a hand toward him. Jack takes her hand, the gesture bringing him some hope that she is calming, only to find it ice cold. He places her hand between his two larger ones hoping the warmth will seep into her. "Give me your other hand," he encourages her. She does so after a moment's hesitation, and he warms it as well; concern that she continues shaking so violently welling within him. He grits his teeth and breathes in through his nose and out through his mouth. He doesn't need to add to her stress, "Calm down Jack," he admonishes silently.
They arrive at home, and as Jack gently helps her from the car and picks her up again he says quietly, "turn your face into my chest so the others can't see – we don't need them going into hysterics." She obeys her trembling increasing.
As Mr. Butler opens the door, the look Jack gives him communicates deep worry.
"Mr. Butler, please send Dr. McMillan, Dr. Wilson and Dot…" he trails off at the shake of Phryne's head. He leans close to her, "What is it?"
"Not Dot, not Dot."
"Very well," Jack rumbles to Mr. Butler, "just the doctors for now Mr. Butler."
He carries her up the stairs, the excited voices from below following them, and places her gently on the bed. Her woebegone appearance is magnified tenfold against the cleanliness of her bed. She immediately grabs for the covers and Jack obligingly covers her up until the doctors get there. She burrows down until her head is also covered curling into as tight a ball as she can in her condition.
"I'm going to talk to Mac and Dr. Wilson. I'm not leaving. We will be just outside your door and will come in after a brief conversation." He sees no acknowledgement from Phryne and sighing to himself, his own eyes wet with reaction he moves to intercept the doctors.
Jack fills Mac and Dr. Wilson in on what he knows which is very little except her condition and what he found Salvatore doing to her when he got there. His voice chokes and a few tears escape his worry filled blue eyes as he describes Phryne's reaction.
"She is filthy – bruised, bloody and somewhere in the course of events she vomited. She's barely spoken. How should we approach this? Shall we clean her up and have you examine her as we do that, or should I clean her up and then have you examine her?" Jack asks his usually authoritative voice uncertain as to the best course of action.
Mac eyes Dr. Wilson, "In my professional opinion and as Phryne's friend, we should probably examine her as we clean her up. I think that will minimize the trauma of having to be "handled"."
"I totally agree with you," Dr. Wilson says.
"Very well," Jack responds. "Mac if you would be so kind as to gather the items we need to bathe her I will stay with her until you come back. We will need clean linens as well."
Mac nods and heads off only to be met by Mr. Butler at the top of the stairs with a steaming wash bowl and Dot with soft towels, fresh sheets and a clean night gown.
"Thank you. You two are true gems," and taking the bowl from Mr. Butler when they reach Phryne's door which is partially open she turns to Dot, "Leave the linens by the door Dot dear. I'll get them when I set the bowl down."
"Yes Doctor McMillan," the quaver in Dot's response obvious; her eyes red and still misty.
"She's home Dottie. I'll make sure she is alright."
Nodding Dot puts the linens down and turns to go back down the stairs with Mr. Butler.
Mac takes the steaming water into the room and returns to bring in the linens. Once she sets them down on the table she then locks Phryne's door.
"Phryne," Jack says gently, "Mac and Dr. Wilson are here to check on you. We have water for a bath."
Slowly Phryne lowers the covers trying to ignore the hissing intake of breath as the others get a good look at her.
"Oh Phryne," Mac says her voice sorrowful yet hard-edged, "what did he do to you?"
Phryne shakes her head trembling again and Jack intervenes. "Dr. Wilson could you get another bowl of steaming water and the shampoo for Phryne's hair. I think it best we wash it.
Dr. Wilson nods and goes to perform the task. Jack and Mac coax Phryne out of her filthy night gown, covering her with the sheets and comforter as they bathe her face, neck and shoulders leaving the rest of her beneath the sheets. Jack's anger as each new bruise and bite mark is revealed is almost palpable.
"Well Phryne," Dr. McMillan says as she examines Phryne's neck, "I think we can get by with no stitches. After we wash your hair I will apply a disinfectant and a dressing. Meanwhile let's wrap this towel around it."
Dr. Wilson returns with the additional water and Jack washes Phryne's hair while Dr. Wilson once again takes the other bowl and returns with fresh water for rinsing.
Phryne begins to relax under the rhythmic movement of Jack's gentle fingers on her sore head. Her trembling slackens under his ministrations, but once her hair is rinsed and wrapped in a towel there is still the rest of her to bathe and examine. They want to resume her bath immediately and change the sheets as they go. Phryne says not a word, but she clutches at the sheets.
"Phryne, let go of the sheets. Let the doctors do their jobs," Jack urges quietly gently removing her hands from the sheets she holds so protectively. She loosens her grip just enough for them to proceed.
The two doctors are pros at changing the sheets beneath the patient and so Jack bathes her gently cleansing the raw wounds at wrists and ankles where she fought the bindings. Jack's mouth compresses into a thin line as he sees the bruising and additional cuts on her thighs. When he turns her to bathe her back, Dr. Wilson lets out a gasp as the bruises there are revealed.
Clean at last and with fresh sheets on the bed all that is left is for the doctors to tend her wounds.
"Now my dear, while Dr. McMillan tends to your neck wound I need to check on the babies," Dr. Wilson says in a hushed voice.
Phryne winces and the shaking begins again though it isn't as pronounced as it had been. "I'll be as gentle as I can."
Nodding mutely Phryne succumbs to the exam, seeking out and squeezing Jack's hand like a life line.
"All done now Phryne," Dr. Wilson says a few minutes later. "I can hear all the babies' heartbeats. I need you to rest now.
Phryne nods a shadow crossing her face. Jack brings her night gown and gently dresses her in it.
"Mac, please stay with Phryne while I clean up. Dr. Wilson could you tell the others I will see them later today and that no one is to disturb us?"
Nodding both doctors move to do his bidding. Jack gathers his things for a shower and leaves the room.
Mac helps Phryne with her hair, toweling it dry and smoothing it with her brush until it falls softly around her face.
"Phryne, can you talk to me about it?"
Phryne shakes her head vigorously in the negative tears slipping out of her eyes.
"It's alright, you don't have to talk about it. You're safe now. Let's go to sleep. I won't leave you alone," Mac soothes.
Phryne nods, her eyelids drooping.
When Jack returns he tells Mac in a whisper, "Dr. Wilson says there was no penetration. Thank God we were able to find her in time."
Mac nods, "I'll check on you later in the evening."
At the click of the door Phryne jerks awake, the fear on her face causing Jack's anger to flare again and this time he has trouble shielding her from it.
"It was Mac leaving, Phryne. I'm here. You're safe," he grinds out, his hands trembling with the effort of not slamming his fist into something – preferably into the jaw of the man responsible for the fear he sees in his wife's large violet eyes.
He pulls a chair up beside the bed and then tucks the covers around her before sitting down in the chair. "Try to sleep. I won't leave you."
Phryne falls asleep and Jack dozes. It isn't long though before she is in the throes of a nightmare. At her cry Jack is instantly awake. "Phryne, Darling wake up. It's a nightmare. You're safe. I'm here. I love you."
And she utters her first words since denying Dot entrance into her room, "Jack, will you hold me please?"
"If you are certain that you want me to do so."
"I'm sure I want you to hold me," comes her whisper.
"Very well," Jack says coming around to slide into the bed dropping his dressing gown as he does so. Jack can feel the slight tremble in her body as he moves in close and tucks himself lightly around her. "I love you. I am so thankful you are safely home."
"I love you too Inspector. And Jack, we have to do something for Giselle and Teodora."
"Let's talk about that tomorrow," Jack soothes her, the rumble of his voice vibrating against her back.
Gradually Phryne's trembling stops and her breathing calms and she and Jack sleep.