/ / SUNDAY - Mid Afternoon / /
Jack arrived back at City South Station with some relief. Phryne's household had of course been devastated to hear the Hispano had been found abandoned and that Phryne appeared to have been taken by force rather than missing of her own will. Poor Jane had wept into his comforting arms while Dot confirmed with tear stained cheeks that the shoe they found at their crime scene was Miss Fisher's.
The worst of it had been her aunt, however.
Prudence Stanley had taken Orpheus by the ear and dragged him to the parlour. Their shouting had reverberated through the entire house while Jack tried once again to ask Jane and Dot if they knew of anyone who might want to hurt Phryne.
They couldn't think of anyone, so heavy hearted but glad to leave the shouting behind, Jack had left.
"Inspector Robinson," called the desk duty constable as Jack pushed open the heavy doors of City South.
"Yes, Constable Wallace?"
"There's a woman waiting for you, sir. She was rather firm that she would only speak to you, sir, so I've left her waiting in your office."
All at once hope filled Jack's chest. Phryne, she must have escaped somehow, she must have come all this way, just one shoe, probably without funds too, just to see him. He strode quickly to his office door and pushed it open, his mouth opening ready to greet his lover and pull her close.
But the woman sitting at his desk was not Phryne. Jack's steps faltered. His hope vanished, replaced quickly by dread, and an annoying sense of embarrassing shame.
He swallowed thickly and walked around his desk and sat down.
Mrs Hammond sat across from him.
More shame filled him, he had lost sight of his original case in the search for Phryne. This poor woman was mourning the death of her husband and he had spent the entire day looking for his own lover instead.
"Mrs Hammond," he said evenly. "How can I help you?"
Mary Hammond met his soft gaze with her own, "I think I have something from the- the man who killed my husband," she whispered.
Jack frowned. "What makes you think that?"
"When I came home today, from my parents' house, I found this on the doorstep," she reached a shaking hand into her purse and retrieved an envelope. Jack held out his hand and accepted it.
It was old paper, cheap with no distinguishing marks or features. It was blank, and the top had been cut open with a letter opener. He reached inside and pulled out five worn and battered one pound notes, and a small slip of the same cheap paper. Written on the paper were the words 'For the children. I'm sorry'.
"Mrs Hammond…"
"I don't want his money," she said firmly, "I won't let him pay me, as though any amount of money could bring my husband back. I just want him found, Inspector. I want him caught so I can tell my children that the world can, even in its cruelest moments, be just."
Jack nodded. "What time did you find this, Mrs Hammond?"
"Two o'clock. The children and I went to church this morning, then we went to my parents house, like we always do. But we decided to only stay for lunch, and my father drove us home. I found the note and I came straight here."
"And there was nothing else? Nothing unusual you noticed, this morning or later?"
"Only… My priest spoke today, of the loss of my husband. The funeral arrangements," she paused, holding back fresh tears. "So there were flowers at my door. They've been coming all week, I didn't think anything of them."
"Was this note with any of the flowers?"
"No, it had been put through the letterbox."
Jack nodded. "Well then, Mrs Hammond, I believe you may be right. Please, allow me to take you home, I will need to talk with your neighbours. Perhaps they saw who delivered this note."
He stood and Mrs Hammond did too, "Thank you, Inspector."
They made the short drive in Jack's police car from City South to her house in Richmond and Jack saw the lady inside before walking around her front garden to knock on the neighbour's door.
"Oh it's such a terrible thing, dreadful!" exclaimed the elderly neighbour to the immediate right of Mrs Hammond's house. "Poor Mary, dear girl. She's having another baby, you know. Goodness knows how she will cope."
"But did you see anyone at her house today?" Jack repeated, "Anyone at all?"
"Oh no dear, I'm not one to pry on my neighbours. But you could try Eunice across the road, she was in her garden all morning, re-planting her flower garden. And on a Sunday!" the elderly woman shook her head. "She would have seen everything. Been very keen to poke her head through the curtains this week, I think."
Jack nodded and tipped his hat, "Thank you."
Eunice-across-the-road had seen someone. Quite a few someones it seemed.
"There was the Jackson's from three doors down, and Mrs Jones from my church group. Then there was a man I didn't recognise at about lunch time, and little Jillian Rhodes, a school friend of one of the delightful Hammond children."
"Was the man carrying anything?" Jack asked with interest, his pen poised over a notebook, his patience waning.
"Flowers," nodded Eunice, "a rather big bunch. But they was almost all carrying flowers."
Jack sighed, then licked his lips and asked, "Did you see anyone approach the house without flowers, Mrs Davies?"
Eunice Davies tilted her head to one side in thought, "As a matter of fact," she said eventually, "I did."
"Can you describe them?"
"Oh yes, Inspector," the woman smiled. "She was small, and looked to be in rather a hurry. Walked all the way up the street from around the corner there, straight to the Hammond's door, then turned around and walked right back. Odd woman, I thought, she kept looking over her shoulder. Clutching her hat and stumbling on the pavement."
"She?" Jack gaped in spite of himself. "Are you certain?"
"Perfectly. She was blonde and slight -too slight if you ask me; her clothes were much too loose on 'er. Hand-offs, or charity bins, I think."
"And she was the only one without flowers?"
"The only one," Eunice confirmed.
"Thank you, Mrs Davies. If you remember anything more, please, be in touch," he pulled a card from his pocket and handed it to the gossiping woman. She saw him out with a great smile and Jack returned to his car with, it seemed, a brand new suspect.
/ / /
Phryne felt her stomach grumble painfully. Her captor had not come to give her any lunch, or any food at all. Actually, Phryne hadn't seen her captor at all since arriving here. Wherever 'here' was.
She had been listening by the door a while, using the time to attempt to loosen the rope around her wrists, and had come to the conclusion that whoever had taken her was not in the house.
He had done a good job of locking her in though. By her estimate it had taken Phryne the better part of an hour, with much twisting and pulling and gnawing with her teeth, to finally slip one sore and red hand free of her bounds and undo the knots properly. Since then she had spent her time trying to find another way out of this room.
Without her lockpick, dagger, or even a hair pin however, the room had bested her. The one door was locked and bolted from the outside, and the window was too small and high to climb through, even if she managed to break the boards covering it.
She would have to wait until who ever had her came back. Now that her hands were free and she had adequate space to move around in she might be able to properly fight her way out of this. And then she could find the nearest telephone and call Jack.
But... did he even know she was missing?
Maybe he thought she had stood him up, given him the cold shoulder. She'd told Mr Butler not to expect her for dinner, and it wouldn't be the first time she'd spent the night somewhere else after going out on a Saturday night. Did any of them know she was in danger? That she'd been drugged and abducted and taken to Lord knows where. Did they even know to look for her?
/ / /
The Anglican church Mrs Hammond and her family attended was just a short drive away. Jack stepped inside and found Reverend Ellison walking between pews. He was collecting stray items that had been left behind after the morning's service and replacing Bibles to their place in the backs of each seat. At the sound of Jack walking in he lifted his head and smiled kindly.
"Can I help you, Detective?"
Jack blinked in surprise and Reverend Ellison gave a small shrug, "Who else would you be?"
"Reverend, I wanted to ask you some questions about your parishioners."
Reverend Ellison indicated the pew, and Jack obediently sat. The Reverend sat next to him, "What would you like to know?"
"What can you tell me about Mr and Mrs Hammond?"
"Well, as I suspect you know, Detective, Francis Hammond passed last week. He was a good man, good to his wife and his children. His poor Mary has been to see me almost every day this week. Are you close to finding the man who killed him?"
"That's why I'm here, Reverend. Mrs Hammond received a note through her letterbox today, she said you mentioned the plans for her husband's funeral in your service today. Did anyone stand out as being interested in that information? Did anyone approach you for the Hammond's address?"
"Yes, I had a few people hoping to give their condolences. Let's see, there was Mrs White and the Johnston's. Mrs Jones I saw talking to Eunice Davies, a neighbour of Mary's I believe. Then there was poor Miss Thomas, and Esther Knight. But the Hammond's have been coming here for years, Mary since she was a girl. They've always been well liked and respected, other's may have approached Mary herself, or Mrs Davies."
Jack listed the names carefully in his notebook, "And no one stood out to you?"
Reverend Ellison hesitated.
"Reverend?"
"Poor… Poor Miss Thomas always rather stands out to me," he said eventually.
"Why is that?"
"She's been coming here for some time now, and I don't believe I've ever heard her say more than two sentences to any of the other parishioners. I couldn't even tell you her Christian name."
"Can you describe her?"
"Short, and I believe her hair is blonde, but she wears a hat. The same hat, and the same cloak, every week. And she's the first to leave most days, so I was taken aback when she approached me today."
"Any idea where she lives?"
"Not in Richmond," Reverend Ellison answered easily, "Collingwood, perhaps."
Jack nodded, writing it down. He thanked the Reverend for his time and stood. He had no idea if this Miss Thomas had been the one to deliver the note or not, but it was a trail he'd have to follow. Tomorrow was Monday, and he would look up all the Miss Thomas's in Melbourne if it came to it. For now, Jack returned to the station. Pushing open the heavy doors he walked headlong into a uniform clad Constable.
"Inspector!" It was Collins, about to leave for the day.
"Collins. Did you find anything in Miss Fisher's car?"
"No sir, and no further evidence around the scene either. We had photographs taken, and I've put Constable Smith's tickets and statement on your desk."
"Very good Collins. Are you heading home for the evening?"
"Yes sir. I was going to return Miss Fisher's car to her house first -if that's alright?"
Jack nodded, "As long as it's not evidence, Collins. But, actually, wait a moment, I'll follow in my car. I want to speak to the household again," He began to walk and Hugh followed quickly, "Miss Williams confirmed the shoe you found as Phry- Miss Fisher's, but I haven't found any link between this and her investigation. We should explore other avenues, including ransom. Miss Fisher has never been subtle about her wealth after all."
"You think someone targeted her for money?"
"A Hispano draws attention, Collins. Could be someone caught sight of it and assumed whoever was inside could give them an easy pay day," he sighed, "We need assume that whoever has her will make contact to the house."
Hugh nodded and Jack sighed, sitting down behind his desk and idly looking at the file Hugh had placed there for him.
"We also need to look for a woman; Miss Thomas," he told his Constable, recounting his inquiries with Mrs Hammond's neighbours and priest. He finished the story with a long sigh, trying not to think what Phryne would make of the clues presented to them.
"But that is a task for tomorrow," he said eventually, standing once more. "Let's go and see Mr Fisher and the household."
AN: reviews are, as always, highly appreciated. :)