A/N – Oh dear. Apparently I'm a certified (certifiable?) techno-idiot and have been accidentally PM'ing people with replies to non-existent PMs … oops. My bad – I have no idea how I managed that. Sorry. Won't happen again. Probably. I make no personal guarantees.
Also, apologies for any glaringly incorrect assumptions I made about the lovely town of Bairnsdale, Vic. I've never been there. Which is probably self-evident to anyone familiar with the place.
Our handsome hero and his feisty female sidekick have reached their destination and are straight into crime solving before they've even had a chance to unpack. Can our dynamic duo delve deeply into dastardly deeds without dipping into domestic disharmony? Suspend belief and read on … !
Hope you enjoy. :)
Chapter Three – A Minor Inconvenience
An almighty clap of thunder rolled out an ambiguous welcome to Jack and Phryne as the train pulled into Bairnsdale. The railway station was far more grand than either of the travellers had been expecting, the town itself equally surprising in its genteel beauty. A wide avenue led away from the station proper, with imposing red brick buildings frosted with white stone trim dotted along the wide roadways.
Jack stepped down onto the platform, and turned dutifully to assist his 'wife' disembark. Phryne's fingers curled around his automatically but she paused on the ornate carriage step, taking a moment to look around her with sharp interest. The soaring spire of a church caught her eye almost immediately, deep red framed by a steel grey thunderhead. Dusk had descended a little early in Bairnsdale this day, a dark little welcome to Phryne and Jack to match the dark little business they were there to uncover. Eerie green light shed by the coming storm hung over the town like a threat of violence, and despite the architectural beauty on display, Phryne shuddered.
Sheet lightning ignited the sky overhead as a squall of wind whipped the hem of Phyrne's coat up over her knees. She wasted no time jumping down onto solid ground, seeking the shelter of Jack's arm against the weather. As the first fat drops of rain began to fall, Jack guided them both to cover under the bull nosed verandah of the ticket office. Within moments the noise of the deluge was deafening, almost drowning out the train's whistle as it pulled out of the station in a hiss of steam and smut.
"Was someone meant to meet us?" Phryne asked, her words whipped away by the surging wind. She turned up her collar against the unexpected drop in temperature and couldn't suppress another shiver.
Jack nodded in answer to her question, screwing up his face as he peered up and down the platform. Frustratingly empty, apart from the elderly and now thoroughly damp porter who was stacking their luggage onto a trolley.
Jack raised his voice above the drumming of rain on corrugated iron, "I suggest we find somewhere more comfortable to wait." Ignoring the unappealing waiting room, Phryne searched the street for an establishment that looked more promising. She spotted a youth in the process of lighting the old gas lamps outside a two storey hotel on the other side of the square and smiled with satisfaction. Definitely an improvement! Phryne thought, tugging at Jack's sleeve to get his attention.
He followed her gaze and they shared a grin. He leant close to her ear, "Are you up to making a run for it?"
Never one to resist a challenge she nodded, and squealed with glee as she got the jump on Jack and dashed straight into the rain, with the Inspector hot on her heels. Their entry into the Grand Terminus Hotel Tea Rooms caused quite a stir. They burst in, three parts soaked and laughing breathlessly. Several pairs of very respectable eyes swung around to inspect them, disapproval the general consensus.
Jack sobered almost immediately but Phryne's lips curled into a defiant smile and she returned the stares, unabashed, her hips swaying as she sauntered further into the room. Jack observed her with a little shake of his head and lost no time finding a waitress who showed them to a table at one of the windows. A second girl appeared almost immediately with a tray of tea and scones.
Phryne's brows shot up as the tray was laid before her. She looked at the Inspector with amusement. "Oh dear, tea? I would have much preferred a drink." She removed her gloves and picked up the teapot. "Shall I be mother?"
Jack inclined his head, enjoying himself, but before he could respond a scruffy young lad came up to them and stood at his elbow.
"'Scuse me. You the Mr and Mrs what are going to work at the Morrisons?" At Jack's nod he pulled a crumpled piece of paper out of his pocket. "Got a message here for you." The boy handed it over and pocketed Jack's proffered halfpenny with a wide grin, disappearing as quickly as he had appeared.
Jack scanned the note, "Mr Morrison is sending a car but there is a delay." He looked up at Phryne. "Well, word has got around that we're here, at least. The boy must have asked at the station and the porter sent him over here."
"That makes sense, although …" She paused, a frown forming on her brow.
"What?"
"Mmm. Just a feeling."
Jack scowled slightly. "While I have learned to respect those 'feelings' of yours, you might have to explain it a little better to me."
"Well, Bairnsdale isn't exactly a thriving metropolis, but neither is it a tiny country hamlet. Don't you find it a little odd that we were so easily found? We've been here all of two minutes." She tapped a slender finger on the tabletop and lowered her voice, "Something doesn't feel right."
Jack shrugged, not convinced there was anything to be suspicious about, "We're expected, after all. Alexander Morrison is one of the wealthiest men in the area, a man who has a small army looking after his every need. I don't see anything unusual in any of this. Money makes things happen, as well you know."
Phryne sighed, "Perhaps you're right, Inspector."
Jack shot her a stern look and leant in close to her, whispering. "Careful, dear wife, or we'll be back on the next train to Melbourne because our use here would be limited if the truth of our, er -" he hesitated, trying to find the right word, "- situation got out."
A flush spread over Phryne's cheeks, and she was irritated at herself for such a careless slip. She reached across and impulsively covered Jack's hand with her own by way of apology.
"It won't happen again, my dear John." A mischievous smile curled her lips and she slid across to the chair alongside his, running her hand down his arm in a tender gesture. Jack's eyes slid around the room self-consciously and he felt his pulse rate jump.
"Stop fooling around, my dear Franny." He ground out, pasting on a fixed smile to fool any potential audience.
The awkward expression of on his face made Phryne laugh out loud, drawing looks again from several occupied tables. "That's what married people do, dear heart. Fool around." She purred, giving in to the impulse to tease him just a little bit more. Jack couldn't manage a suitable come back and just swallowed down on his discomfiture. Hard.
Phryne took pity on him and relaxed back in her chair, pulling out an enamelled compact to check her hair. She pulled a face at her reflection. "Will you excuse me? I need to find somewhere to tidy up."
Jack thought she looked just as polished and perfect as ever, despite their mad dash through the storm, but let her go with a mild, "Of course."
Phryne found herself in a short dead end of a hallway, noise spilling out of the public bar on her left and the only other door leading to the ladies bathroom on the right. The ebb and flow of joviality from the bar area was considerable. It would seem that it was very well patronised for a Wednesday afternoon. Phryne wondered whether perhaps a farmer's market or similar had brought so many customers to the town mid-week, the storm sending them to the pub looking for shelter, just as she and Jack had done. Perhaps the Inspector was right and the Grand Terminus Hotel was simply the preferred meeting place in town. A logical place to seek out new arrivals off the train, with nothing untoward in that.
Inside the well-appointed bathroom, she checked her appearance in the mirror one last time and was about to push the door open to leave when she heard muffled voices right outside the door, voices raised in anger. Her natural curiosity kicked into overdrive when she heard the Morrison name mentioned. She put her shoulder to the heavy door to hold it open a fraction of an inch, and pressed an ear to the gap to try and hear more of the conversation.
Two men were obviously at loggerheads over something, their anger clearly discerned in their now whispered exchange.
"I thought Morrison was in the big smoke?" The first man's voice took on a whiney tone. "Jeez, as if we didn't have enough to bloody worry about."
"Shut your gob and settle down. I dunno what's going on with Morrison, I just know he's on his way here now." The second man let out a sigh. "This is turning into a dog's breakfast."
"Don't I bloody know it? They're ready to go now, but this weather's going to put the kibosh on things if it doesn't bloody well let up."
"I said shut up." A pause while the second man, apparently in charge, thought things through. When it came, his voice was decisive. "Get a message to our friends. We'll move it to Rotamah."
There was a grunt of agreement from the second man, before their footsteps could be heard heading back up the short hallway. Phryne inched the door wider and tried to catch a look at her hall mates, but all she saw was a glimpse of a tweed-clad shoulder as they re-entered the public bar.
Ruttermer? Radama? Phryne didn't recognise the name, but she filed away to track down as soon as possible. She wasted no time getting back to Jack.
"There's something afoot, husband dear." Phryne couldn't keep the edge of excitement from her voice as she took the seat next to his.
Jack raised his eyebrows in a question, and she closed the gap between them as she discreetly related what she'd just heard. He listened intently, nodding as she stumbled over the unfamiliar place name.
"Do you know where they're talking about?" Phryne asked him, seeing the flicker of recognition cross his face.
Jack slipped a map out of his overcoat pocket and unobtrusively laid it on the table. Folded uppermost was a section of coastline, and he tapped a spot with his finger. "I've been studying the area. I think they mean here, Rotamah Island. It's not far off the coast from the Morrison's estate."
"What do you think it means?"
Jack glanced through the mottled window glass at the storm still raging outside, frustration etched on his face. "I'm not sure, but things might be moving more rapidly than we expected."
He stood abruptly, bundling Phryne into her coat before hastily donning his own. "I fear there's no time to waste. We've got to get out to that estate now."
What happened to that hot Aussie sun, and Jack in the promised singlet, you might ask? And, well, gardening. Be patient, my lovelies. It won't happen overnight, but it will happen.
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