Chapter Nine

A whirlwind erupted into City South police station, and this time didn't even bother checking with Hugh Collins whether the Inspector was In.

"Jack!" she exclaimed as she burst through his office door.

"Miss Fisher," he responded politely, and almost didn't flinch at all as she took a more than usually flying leap on to the corner of his desk. Her skirt was so caught as to be showing a really rather indecent expanse of thigh, but he didn't want to put her off her stride by mentioning such a trivial fact.

"He did it, Jack! Must have done!"

"Who did what, Miss Fisher? Although if you're referring to Cedric Matthews and the murder of Sir Andrew Pallister, he was already on a shortlist of two likely suspects, and the other was his own Squadron Leader."

"But he actually had to have done it – or at least been complicit in someone else's plot, Jack. Listen, I'll explain."

She ran rapidly through a lesson in the physics and practise of aviation. Not for an instant would Jack have admitted that he was clinging on to the argument by his metaphorical fingertips

When she finally ran down and looked at him eagerly for confirmation, he shook his head.

"Jack, what? How can you possibly think Matthews didn't do it?"

"Miss Fisher, I don't for a moment think he's innocent. We have this quaint tradition in law enforcement, though. We need to show means, opportunity – and motive. Are you really going to tell me that Cedric Matthews killed Pallister for flirting with his wife?"

A deprecating cough was heard in the doorway.

"I think I may be able to help with that, Inspector."

Mr Butler was standing outside, with Hugh Collins at his shoulder. Jack greeted him, and invited him to take the available seat at the desk. Miss Fisher took the Inspector's. The Inspector took up post propped against a filing cabinet.

The older man spoke again.

"Does Messines mean anything to you, Miss Fisher?"

"I wasn't there, but yes – near Ypres?" She looked to Jack for confirmation, and he nodded.

"There were Australian forces at Messines," he stated.

"There were," agreed Mr Butler, "but in this case, it was an Aussie lad in a British battalion. He'd travelled to England before the war with relatives, and although he was too young to join up when war first broke out, he eventually joined up there. I only heard the story when we of the 2nd Battalion AIF were camped on Salisbury Plain, waiting to be repatriated to Australia after the war."

He continued the tale. "Losses had been huge, and one of the things that the generals did to try to strengthen their forces was to make sure every company – even down to platoon level – had some experienced men alongside the raw recruits. If there was an old hand there, casualties were fewer – there weren't so many silly mistakes, for a start."

Jack interrupted.

"Mr Butler, Messines was one of the more successful operations, I thought?"

The man nodded. "It was indeed, Inspector. We'd tunnelled extensively and planted explosives under the German positions, which meant that by the time the infantry advanced there was almost no opposition; except that one Captain misread a map, the tunnel was misplaced and there was a machine gun post left completely unscathed and in a commanding position."

He regarded them calmly.

"Rather than send a mixed troop to take the machine gun post, the Captain sent one group of men to attack it directly from the front. That group was made up of almost entirely inexperienced raw recruits. The experienced men were sent in a flanking movement, and successfully captured the objective."

Jack could barely whisper it. "Those new recruits must have been wiped out. It would be like sending out a young, green, Forlorn Hope party."

"Yes, Inspector. There were no survivors. Among the dead was an eighteen-year-old Australian, one Edmund Matthews. My research this morning confirmed that he was in that group, and also that he was the younger brother of the Wing Commander."

Phryne asked quietly, "and the name of the Captain?"

"Captain Andrew Pallister, Miss."

She looked up at Jack. "I think Mr Butler's discovered that elusive motive, Inspector – don't you?"

The prospect of arresting Matthews weighed heavy on him, but Jack nodded. Thanking Mr Butler, he left the office, to collect Hugh Collins and drive to Richmond.