Axiom Tilt Chapter 3
"Rebecca!" Phryne caught the young nurse in her arms as she collapsed toward her, "what on earth happened?"
"Please," Rebecca looked around nervously, "Miss Fisher… Can you get me out of here?"
Phryne agreed quickly and led her back to the car. She began driving away from the hospital before she asked the terrified young Rebecca, "Where am I taking you?"
Phryne's heart was still racing.
"I don't…" her head dropped into her hands, "I don't even know, Miss Fisher." She wept.
"I can take you home with me," Phryne offered, "if you'd like."
"Oh… no… I couldn't, Miss Fisher," Rebecca objected. After a thoughtful pause, she asked, "Do you know Barkly Gardens—in Richmond? It's not far from here and it's near my boarding house."
Phryne nodded, "I know exactly where that is. It's just up the street from Jack's house… er," she paused to correct, "the Collins' house now, I suppose. Dot… Mrs. Collins. The multigravida who served you tea this morning."
Rebecca nodded without comment.
They drove the short distance from East Melbourne to Richmond and parked on Coppin Street.
They sat in silence for a few minutes.
Finally, Phryne broke the spell, "I'm sure we weren't followed."
Rebecca nodded mutely staring straight ahead.
"Rebecca?" Phryne asked gently, "can you tell me what this is all about?"
Rebecca blinked as if waking from a dream or hypnosis and turned to Phryne. She seemed almost surprised to see her sitting there. She then looked all around her, trying to take in the clues of her location—to get her bearings—finally she seemed to understand where she was and with whom.
She reached into her nurse's apron pocket and pulled out a note. She hesitated, staring at the note for a moment, and then wordlessly handed it to Phryne.
Phryne took the note from her and opened it.
Thou art forever mine. Though twilight be upon thee and our time past, I will love thee for all time. Yet did I love thee to the last, B
Phryne pursed her lips, "He's certainly no Byron," she looked at Rebecca carefully, "wherever did you get this?"
The young woman looked down at her feet, "I found it in my locker this morning," she said softly, "It wasn't there when I left yesterday."
Phryne nodded, "Have there been any other indications that he knows where you work? Or where you live?"
Rebecca looked at her in horror, "No… I told no one!"
Phryne studied her for a moment before speaking, "Is that true? This morning you said that your friend… your school friend… who still works at Royal Melbourne? Rang you earlier?"
"Doris?" Rebecca looked at her confused, "Doris would never do anything to put me in danger!" she insisted.
"Doris. Yes. Perhaps not intentionally," Phryne tried to help ease this thinking, "but if she said something without thinking… or didn't understand the seriousness of the situation?"
Rebecca's face dawned in horror. "But… she wouldn't…"
"Did Dr. Gilbert know you were friends? Or anyone else?" Phryne asked. Rebecca nodded, "Rebecca, did Doris know where you live?"
"No… No… I was very careful about that," Rebecca seemed so sure.
Phryne softened her eyes at her in pity, she really was so innocent. "Do you have a private telephone exchange?"
Rebecca narrowed her eyes at her, "Of course not. I live in a boarding house."
"But… she had the boarding house telephone exchange…" Phryne tried to lead the thought. The younger woman's eyes widened in fear.
"Anyone could tell…"
"I think I should escort you to your room," Phryne said with deep sympathy for the girl, "and I'm going to have to insist you pack a bag. You're coming home with me."
They left the car parked on Coppin Street and walked around the block to Rebecca's boarding house. The building was a rather harsh example of Victorian architecture with oddly placed Gothic arches and too many details. The painted lady aspects of the building's finery gave the impression of "cheap whore" rather than "elegant dame". The bottom floor of the building housed a men's tailor shop. The top advertised "Victoria Bitter"— it occurred to Phryne that the denizens of the building were probably not the target audience for either product.
They made their way through the non-descript heavy door with the number "291" and words "Swan's Nest" stenciled in peeling paint. There was a small entry way with a desk and darkened parlor to the right. At the desk, sat a woman smoking a cigarette and assessing the pair through incurious eyes. The woman looked as if she had a heavy hand with both the serving spoon and the makeup brush.
"Rent's due." She sneered at Rebecca, paying no attention to Phryne after the initial assessment.
"Yes, Mrs. Harris… if I could just have one more…"
"You said that yesterday, Miss Isaacs," she drew a deep drag on her cigarette, "and through the goodness of my heart, I let it go," she said with an exhale, "but I need that £10 today or you need to find another place to lay your head at night." She said the last while poking her durry at the girl.
Rebecca looked down at her purse and started rummaging through it, she was fumbling through with shaking hands. She pulled out a sovereign, but didn't have anything else. Tears were beginning to form, but she set her jaw. Phryne's heart broke for her. She reached inside her own pocketbook.
"£10… is that what she owes?" she asked the disinterested, smoking lump in front of her.
"Miss Fisher… no… I can't let you do…" Rebecca protested.
"You aren't letting me do anything, Rebecca," Phryne pushed ahead.
Mrs. Harris took the money, "That will get you through the rest of the week, doll face," she sneered, "but next month is due on time… no more free rides."
"Miss Isaacs will not be staying," Phryne addressed the woman haughtily, "We'll be taking what we can, and if she has anything else I'll be sending my staff to retrieve it. Come along, Rebecca."
They had to walk up two tall flights of stairs to reach the dark hallway outside Rebecca's room. The room itself was reasonably large for a single girl. It was on the south side of the building, away from noises of Swan Street, but since the rail line passed between the building and Barkly Gardens, occasionally train vibrations thunder through the room.
Phryne was somewhat surprised by the state of the room. Rebecca struck her as the fastidious sort, but the room was in disarray.
"Oh!" Rebecca had her hand in front of her mouth and tears in her eyes.
"This isn't how you left it, then?" Phryne asked. The young woman shook her head, eyes wide in terror. Phryne moved forward into the room to begin investigating.
"Did you have anything of value here?" she asked. Rebecca, still glued to the threshold of the door, mutely shook her head. "Nothing at all, even papers… information?"
She thought for a moment, "Only… only things of sentimental value."
"Did you have anything from Dr. Gilbert?
She looked around the room, moving into it as she did. "I… I don't… maybe a photograph?" she moved quickly toward the dresser and reached for it.
"Stop!" Phryne said sharply, holding up her own gloved hands, "fingerprints," she explained.
Phryne joined Rebecca at the dresser and opened it for her. Rebecca pointed at a small paper box, and Phryne lifted it out of the dresser.
"There should be a picture of Bri…Dr. Gilbert and me at Luna Park in this box," Rebecca said.
Phryne nodded at her and opened the box. There were several pictures, but they couldn't find the one they sought. They did find something. An envelope, the same size and shape as the one found in Rebecca's locker this morning was stuffed in the pictures. Rebecca started trembling. Phryne opened the note.
I will not ask where thou liest low,
Nor gaze upon the spot;
There flowers or weeds at will may grow,
So I behold them not:
It is enough for me to prove
That what I lov'd, and long must love,
Like common earth can rot;
To me there needs no stone to tell,
'T is Nothing that I lov'd so well. –B
"What… what does it say, Miss Fisher?" Rebecca asked.
Phryne thought she recognized it as part of a Lord Byron poem. "It's just some poetry," she smiled wanly at Rebecca, "someone is being pretentious."
There was a small sink and a hotplate in the room. Rebecca offered to make tea, which Phryne readily accepted. As she set kettle on to boil, Phryne excused herself to the lobby to make telephone call to Jack. Instructing Rebecca to not disturb anything but what they'd already touched.
She approached Mrs. Harris a little differently, silently kicking herself for starting out abrasive with this woman. It would make getting anything out of her more difficult now.
"Mrs. Harris?" Phryne interrupted the woman from her cigarette and copy of Table Talk.
The woman glanced over the copy of the magazine, took another drag off her durry, and returned her eyes to the magazine… but otherwise failed to recognize the lady detective.
"Mrs. Harris?" Phryne tried again, "I was wondering if I might use your telephone?"
Another drag off the cigarette.
"The telephone is for residents only."
"Mmm… yes, well… I need it to call the police as there's been a break in," said Phryne tartly.
Mrs. Harris rolled her eyes, threw down her magazine, and stubbed out her cigarette.
"That's not possible."
Phryne crossed her arms over her chest, "And yet, it happened. Are you going to allow me to call the police or shall I do it from elsewhere and suggest that you were colluding with the intruder?"
Mrs. Harris scowled at her for a few breaths before handing her the boarding house telephone.
Phryne quickly dialed the exchange for City South. "Get me Detective Inspector Jack Robinson, please."
After a few moments she heard the response she craved.
"Jack Robinson, here."
"Hello, darling."
"Miss Fisher? I didn't expect to hear from you until later."
"Jack, I'm with Rebecca Isaacs. She's received threatening notes and someone has broken into her locker at work and her room at the boarding house to deliver them. Can you send someone to the boarding house? I'll check for prints, but I'm not optimistic."
"I… of course… do you need me to come?" he asked.
"No, no…" she assured him, "I'll do an initial search for prints, and secure the scene, but then I want to keep Rebecca at home with us."
There was a pause on the phone.
"Jack?"
"Right… no, um.. yes, I suppose that makes sense," he seemed concerned by this, but unwilling to talk about it over the telephone, "How long will she be with us?"
"At least until we figure out this mess, Jack," Phryne said, "We have plenty of room."
"Of course, it's not the room," Jack wasn't sure what it was, "It's… a fine idea… I'm sure. I'll send Blalock over to gather evidence. Where are you?"
"Wonderful! We're at her boarding house near Barkly Gardens in Richmond... the Swan's Nest?" Phryne reported.
"I know it. I'll send Blalock... Phryne?" Jack sounded worried.
"Yes, Jack?"
"Please be care... Just don't do anything foolish."
"I love you, too Jack. I'll see you this evening, darling."
She hung up the telephone and turned to Mrs. Harris. "There will be a constable coming shortly. Constable Bill Blalock. Do let him in and direct him to Miss Isaacs room, won't you Mrs. Harris?"
Phryne walked back up the two flights of stairs to Rebecca's room and was greeted with a cup of tea.
"Oh, how marvelous! Thank you, Rebecca!" she took the tea gratefully and sat on the one chair as Rebecca stood near, "Have you noticed anything else missing?"
"I…no. I haven't," Rebecca shook her head, "I don't have much. Just my clothes and my books." She indicated to a small shelf. Phryne scanned over the authors: Aristotle, Berzelius, Cohn, Copernicus, Curie, Darwin, Galileo, Hooke, Mendel, Mendeleev, Newton, Pavlov, and Vesalius.
"You have a very scientific library," she picked up the Berzelius, "Dissertations in Physics, Chemistry, and Minerology," she flipped it open, "In… Is this Swedish?"
"Oh…" Rebecca turned to see what Phryne was looking at and flushed, "Uh, yes… I've always been interested in the sciences. It's a hobby." She flashed a small smile.
"This looks like more than a hobby," said Phryne, "Did you think of going to university? Becoming a proper scientist?"
Rebecca shook her head, "Oh no, Miss Fisher," she said sadly, "there's no place for women in science. Not really."
Phryne picked up another title: Recherches sur les substances radioactives.
"Madame Curie might have something to say about that."
"There are always exceptions to the rule." Rebecca said sadly.
Phryne looked at her, "being exceptional is always a worthwhile venture."
"I am anything but exceptional, Miss Fisher," the young woman said softly.
Phryne shook her head at the woman, "That's ridiculous. Anyone who reads Berzelius in Swedish and Curie in French, either with or without the benefit of a university education is, by definition, exceptional."
A sharp pain hit Phryne behind her eyes, causing her to involuntarily bring her hands to her forehead. Massaging her brow.
"Miss Fisher? Are you alright?"
"Yes… I… I've just been overcome," Phryne said, "rather suddenly."
Rebecca went to her cupboard, and then the sink. She brought Phryne a glass. "Drink this."
"What is it?" Phryne had trouble opening her eyes against the light. This headache was sudden and intense.
Rebecca smiled slightly, "Tincture of Salix Alba."
Phryne held the glass skeptically.
"Aspirin," Rebecca followed with a wider smile, "it's perfectly safe."
Phryne smiled and drank the glass.
Fewer than twenty minutes later, she was feeling better. What could have brought that on? She rarely got headaches. She made a mental note to talk to Mac about it soon.
There was a knock at the door. Rebecca turned wide eyes at it and froze. Phryne looked at the door and then at the young nurse. She stood and walked to answer it.
"Yes?" she called through the door.
"Miss Fisher?" Constable Blalock called through the door. She let him in.
"Bill! So nice of you to join us," Phryne let the man into the room.
As suspected, there were no prints other than Rebecca Isaacs, and some old prints… presumably from past tenants. Phryne suspected that the cleaning process between residents was less than rigorous. Bill took the report about the found notes and he and Phryne noted that it was possible for an intruder to gain access to the third floor of the building via the open window at the end of the hall and the fire escape. This boarding house wasn't exactly the most secure location in Melbourne.
The two women got to work packing up Rebecca's short life while Blalock finished up his investigation.
It took them a little over an hour to pack, to talk, to cry, to worry, to go back to packing, and finally get ready to fly away from the Swan's Nest forever.
It was close to 4:00 PM when they entered Wardlow, carrying handfuls of Rebecca's belongings. They were greeted by Mr. Butler.
"Mr. Butler, please set Miss Isaacs up in Dot's old room for now. She'll be with us until we can find her a better solution."
"Very good, Miss Fisher," Mr. Butler agreed and led the young woman up the stairs to her new room.
Phryne made her way into the parlor and poured herself a Scotch whisky. It had been an exhausting day. She needed the fortification. She took a seat in an armchair near the fireplace and began to sift through the day in her mind. It would not have been difficult for Dr. Gilbert to get into Rebecca's room unnoticed through the fire escape window, but something about that scenario was nagging at her. Something about the room was nagging at her and she couldn't quite place it. The pain of her headache that Rebecca's homemade aspirin had vanquished started to resurface as she tried mentally poking around the room for clues.
And Dr. Gilbert was a crafty devil. She sneered internally at him. So good at the innocent act. She'd need to keep close tabs on him. She made a note to get Bert and Cec to follow him after his shift. Even a devil trips up sometimes. She'd be there to catch him when he did.
And Dr. Florey seemed a little odd as well, there was something he said… what was it?
Phryne jumped up from her seat and headed to the kitchen where she found Dot pulling a loaf of bread out of the oven.
"Dot! Mr. Butler is getting Miss Isaacs settled upstairs in your old room," Phryne was speaking quickly and grabbing a biscuit on her way out the back door, "I know you're leaving for the day soon, but… Oh… Hello, Teddy!" she tousled the toddler's blonde hair, "I know you're leaving soon… "
"Miss…" Dot tried to interrupt her.
"…but can you make sure she gets something to eat?" She fired off as she opened the door and started to walk out of it.
"MISS!" Dot shouted. It was very unlike her to raise her voice. In truth, at home, it was becoming very much like her… but it was very unlike her in this context and location. It did the trick at least. Phryne stopped dead in her tracks.
She turned to look wide-eyed at her companion, "Yes, Dot?" She asked in a high-pitched voice.
Dot set down the steaming bread, "Miss, Doctor MacMillan rang from the morgue. She wanted you to stop by."
"Oh!" Phryne said with a start, "Thank you, Dot. I'll drop in. Were there any other messages? Did Jack telephone?"
"No Miss Phryne."
"Thank you, Dot!" she said with another tousle of Teddy's hair (earning her an unseen sneer from the toddler), "Will you let Mr. Butler know not to hold dinner for me?" Dot agreed. Phryne grabbed another biscuit and headed out the door.