Chapter Seven

The police car was discovered intact, and it was only as Phryne got into the passenger seat that she remembered what was in her coat pocket. She took the small bottle out and examined it pensively.

"What have you got there?" asked Jack.

"Gripe water," she said slowly, turning the bottle over in her hands. "From one of the bereaved mothers Mac asked me to interview." Briefly, she summarised the conversation. "So I think I should take this to Mac ... gosh!" She broke off sharply.

"What?"

"Jack, can we go back to Dorcas Street please?"

He said nothing but glanced over his shoulder and changed course.

"This bottle. Bartholomew's Patent Gripe Water. It's from a pharmacy in Dorcas Street. And I don't believe in coincidence."

Jack didn't either, and put his foot down in a manner worthy of Miss Fisher herself.

There was a queue snaking out of the door of the pharmacy when they arrived. Exchanging glances, they joined the end of it and eavesdropped shamelessly.

"I hope they've got some left by the time I get to the front," said one lady to her neighbour. "I don't know what I'll do if they run out."

"Oh, I know! Me too!" replied the other. "My Marnie can't sleep without a spoonful these days, the poor love."

"And the other ones aren't anything like as good," complained a third. "I don't know what that secret ingredient is they go on about, but it's like a miracle."

Jack started forward as though to enter the shop, but Phryne pulled him back.

"No, Jack. You don't want to alert them until you know what we're dealing with," she urged in a low voice. "Let's take what we have to Mac and see if she can track down the 'secret ingredient'."

He shot a frustrated glance at the shop doorway, but knew in his heart that she was right. If there was a connection with Hugh's abduction, they needed to know much more.

Mac, though pleased with their progress, was mystified. Looking at the bottle as though it would simply shout an answer, she thought out loud.

"Most of these things contain a bit of alcohol. Not enough to kill anyone, though – even a baby. If ... there's some other active ingredient ... maybe the alcohol would mask it ..." She shook her head. "Leave it with me."

They did so, but reluctantly. Fortunately, the wait wasn't long. By the time they were walking through the door of City South, Dixon was talking on the telephone and looked up as they arrived.

"The Inspector's here now, Doctor. Stay on the line please."

He covered the handset with one hand. "The Coroner for you, sir. Shall I put it through to your office?"

Even as he was speaking, though, Jack strode across the room and snatched the receiver from the man's hand.

"Mac? It's Jack. What have you got?"

"The clue was in the alcohol, Jack," she said, and he could hear the tension in her tone. "There are some things which work even when dissolved in alcohol."

"What things, Mac? What is it?"

"Jack, it's opium. They're getting babies addicted to opium."

There was a short silence, then she spoke again.

"When you've finished with the people who are doing this, Jack, I want their genitalia for medical research. And I don't really mind whether they're dead first."

"Understood. Thanks, Mac."

He replaced the receiver, gazed at it sightlessly for a moment, then walked slowly through to his office. Phryne looked to the constable, who shrugged his shoulders helplessly, and she followed Jack. When she got to his office, he was sitting with his elbows on the desk and his hands steepled over his mouth and nose as he gazed into empty space.

She sat opposite him and said nothing, knowing that she didn't need to ask to be told the substance of his conversation with Mac. She was alarmed, though, when he sat back and reached for the waste bin beside his desk, holding it in one hand and swallowing hard.

Then the moment passed, and he was able to tell her, in a voice groggy with emotion; and she had the same thought process.

"If it had been Elizabeth …" she whispered. He only nodded. Then straightened, and squared his shoulders.

"But it isn't; and if Hugh Collins was in there trying to buy it for Meggie or Gid, it's not them either. We're looking for opium – and if he's alive, I reckon that when we find the opium, we'll find Collins too."

He raised a brow. "Phryne, I know it's a sensitive question to ask, but he might understand – could we approach Lin Chung?"

"Oh, don't worry, Inspector," she declared. "Lin is going to tell me everything he knows about the current state of the opium trade in this town."

She was already on her feet and heading for the door, but on a thought, turned back to him.

"You might want to stay here, Jack. Lin will need delicate handling, and would probably prefer the police not to be present."

He gave her a quizzical look. "And you, Miss Fisher? Presumably you'd rather I didn't cramp your style?"

Her lips twitched, and she came to dodge round his desk and plant a smacking kiss full on his mouth.

"Jack darling, you ought to know by now that your presence enhances my style enormously. In all sorts of ways. I'll be back in a jiffy!"

The Fisher Sashay was then proudly deployed, and had the desired effect on its audience of one.