I apologize for taking so long to get this chapter up. I have been called to the real world for vacation and academics. I hope to be able to continue with this as I am now slightly free from the world.
Phryne paced back and forth in front Ruth's door and every couple paces, she leaned her ear against the door, straining to hear snippets of the conversation going on.
"I know it's difficult…," said Jack, his smooth, deep voice muffled by the door. It was so frustrating as Phryne could only decipher bits and pieces.
"I guess I could try…," came Ruth's small voice.
"She loves you…," Jack said tenderly. Phryne's heart was moved by how gentle he was being with her daughter.
"I don't know if I can…," replied Ruth. Can? Can, what? wondered Phryne impatiently.
Phryne knew that whatever Jack was telling Ruth, it was probably better than anything she could possibly have said. Phryne was grateful for this since Jack just had a way of saying things that made sense to others and made them feel at ease. Her way usually consisted of overt bluntness and a cold, harsh dose of reality. On more than one occasion she'd had the misfortune of insulting one person or another, causing problems where there had been none.
"Miss Fisher," Hugh's voice made her stop pacing, "Will you tell the Inspector that I had to return to the station? I'm needed there." Phryne was able to catch the jacket of Mr. B disappearing down the stairs.
"Of course, Hugh. I hope it's nothing serious," Phryne added before resuming her pacing, taking no notice that Dot and Hugh had already left the landing.
What would she do if Ruth didn't forgive her? What if Ruth was traumatized and never trusted her again? Would Phryne have to give up sleuthing with Jack for the sake of being a mother? These questions and more plagued Phryne as she continued her incessant pacing.
It wasn't more than five minutes later when she barely realized that the doorbell had rung. She could hear a raised voice, but wasn't paying enough attention to recognize the owner of said voice.
"Excuse me, Miss," Mr. Butler pardoned, "Mrs. Stanley is in the parlor and is quite adamant to speak with you." Phryne groaned as her aunt's arrival could not have been at a worse time. However, she knew she wouldn't be able to rid herself of her aunt until she went downstairs and heard her out.
"Please inform Aunt P that I'll be down in a moment," Phryne said as a gasp from the bedroom pierced her ears, drawing her attention quickly back toward the door, taking sips of the bourbon she had been handed. The manservant nodded, suddenly even more worried as he watched his mistress down the entire tumbler within seconds.
Phryne pressed her ear to the door, hoping to hear what was being said, but heard nothing. She resigned herself to just leave her daughter and Jack alone, and to brave the storm that was Prudence Stanley. She entered the parlor to find her aunt sitting on the settee helping herself to the tea Mr. Butler had just brought in.
"Phryne! Where were you? I don't recall seeing you at the Cup Opening yesterday. I had hoped to introduce you to some eligible young men, only to be made a fool when you didn't arrive," Aunt P said in between sips of tea.
"Hello to you too, Aunt P," Phryne grumbled with fake civility. "Something arose and demanded my immediate attention. I'm sorry you were made to look like a fool. It wasn't my intention." Phryne couldn't help but smile on the inside, knowing how much her Aunt hated being made to look a fool.
"Immediate attention?! What could be more important than the Cup Opening and making an appearance? If you so much as say murder, I don't want to hear it," Aunt P deterred rudely.
"In fact, it was but not in the sense that I stumbled on it rather the fact that it happened as I was meeting the girls. They, unfortunately, witnessed it and are quite shaken because of it. Jac… Inspector Robinson is presently talking to Ruth since she refuses to speak to me," she informed with honesty.
Phryne watched Aunt P's eyes widen as she took in the validity of what Phryne was saying.
"You left Ruth alone with Inspector Robinson? Phryne!" Aunt P exclaimed.
"Enough! I trust Inspector Robinson, Jack, with my entire household. I believe he cares for Jane and Ruth as if they were his own; and they, him. But that's none of your business."
"On a side note, would it be possible for the girls to come stay with you for the remainder of the Cup? I'm afraid that since this case fell, literally, into my lap, I won't be spending much time here. I don't want them feeling neglected and I know Arthur would be a wonderful distraction for them both," Phryne redirected.
"Of course. But you should be their mother, not some free-wheeling lady detective," Aunt Prudence reprimanded, "I'll have Edwards come and collect them 'round 6. Will the girls be ready by then?"
"Without a doubt. Thank you, Aunt P," said Phryne. When she heard a heavy set of footsteps descend the stairs, she quickly jumped up and went to the entryway. Jack was standing just above her on the steps. She made to pass him on the stairs and rush up to Ruth's room.
"I wouldn't do that, Miss Fisher. She's still upset with you and with what happened. I'd advise giving her some time before you try and talk with her again," Jack stated calmly. Phryne rarely listened to what Jack had to say, but the way that he'd said it, gave her pause. He'd sounded very concerned. Phryne nodded and her body suddenly felt relieved, causing her to slump against Jack for support.
Jack caught Phryne as she landed against him and felt slightly excited that he was touching Phryne in a way that was more than professional. Carrying most of Phryne's weight, he moved her into the parlor and was met with the cold glare of Mrs. Stanley.
"Inspector Robinson, I understand you were alone with my great-niece. I can't begin to say how inappropriate such a things is with someone who is not her father," Mrs. Stanley berated.
"Your niece asked me to talk to Ruth…," Jack defended as he deposited Phryne onto the settee that Mrs. Stanley had just vacated.
"Aunt P, stop giving Jack a hard time," Phryne tried to say from her broken state on the settee.
"Never you worry, niece. I have nothing more to say to the Inspector and so I think I'll take my leave and see to the arrangements for your daughters," Mrs. Stanley said coldly. She pushed Jack out of the way to kiss Phryne on the cheek before striding out of the parlor and out of the house.
"Jack, I'm sorry about Aunt P. She's just disappointed that I've exposed the girls to something so grotesque. As if I did it on purpose! I want to shield my girls from everything we deal with, not expose them," Phryne whimpered.
Jack looked up when someone clear their throat and noticed Mr. Butler standing in the hall as if subtly summoning him. Jack was wary of leaving Phryne alone for fear her tough exterior may crumble. What Phryne needed now was his support and he was desirous to give her just that; however, there were very rare moments when Mr. Butler, himself, would step out of his role as servant and involve himself in the daily trials of his employer's life, except when it was direly necessary. Apparently, this was one of those rare moments.
Jack stepped into the hall and the manservant gestured toward the dining room.
"Inspector, forgive my intrusion, but Dr. Macmillan called yesterday and gave me strict instructions on what to do should Miss Fisher suffer a momentary breakdown. I am, with most discretion, to give her a packet of sleeping powder," the manservant confided, gesturing to the two half-full tumblers on the dining table.
"You put the powder in there? Brilliant idea, Mr. Butler," Jack smiled in admiration. "But which has the powder and which doesn't? I wouldn't want to get them mixed up."
Mr. Butler indicated the tumbler on the right, "That one has the powder," depositing it in Jack's right hand. "And this does not," depositing the untainted tumbler into Jack's left hand. "You get her to drink it down and I'll see to it her bed is made ready."
"Of course. I doubt she'd be very comfortable on the settee. Thank you, Mr. Butler," Jack said as he headed back to the parlor while the ever-discerning manservant went to tend to Phryne's bed.
Upon returning to the parlor, Jack found Phryne huddled into a ball on the settee, silent tears flowing down her beautiful face.
"Phryne," he said, kneeling by her head, "I thought you could do with a stiff drink despite already having one this morning." He handed her the tumbler from his right hand and moved to sit in his chair across the room.
"Jack, I'm a horrible mother. I should never have gotten involved with detecting. I didn't realize it would become so hazardous to those I love. There have been too many close scrapes with my family already that I can't put them through anymore," Phryne decided as she sat up and took a long sip from the tumbler. Jack took a small one to fortify his constitution and with the hope it would give him the strength to support the woman that sat across from him as he helped her upstairs. He knew it wouldn't be long before the sedative kicked in.
"Miss Fisher, I know you're worried about the girls, but I also know that they're worried about you as well. I'm sure your household enjoys, on occasion, the adventures you bring to them. If it weren't for you, Miss Williams and Collins would never have gotten engaged or even have met. Both Jane and Ruth would have been sent to foster homes and might have ended up in my cells once they were older. Cec and Bert would never have had a chance to be a part of some of the most exciting adventures." Jack paused to take another sip from his tumbler. "Had you never taken up being a lady detective, we would have met under completely different circumstances. In fact, there's always a possibility I would have had to arrest you for some crime, most likely speeding."
"Perhaps, but I still feel awful…," sighed Phryne, pausing to down the rest of the contents of her glass before letting out a very unladylike yawn. Jack tried his best not to smile, knowing that Phryne wouldn't be at all pleased if he laughed at her. "Why am I so tired all of a sudden?" she yawned again.
"Perhaps downing an entire tumbler of scotch in two gulps made you tired?" pretended Jack as he watched Phryne sway back and forth, the sleeping powder obviously taking effect. Within seconds, Phryne succumbed to the sedative, the tumbler slipping from her hand and bouncing against the floor.
Jack set down his glass and walked over to Phryne, gently and carefully pulling her into his arms. He felt her soft breaths against his neck and swallowed at the sensations of it.
"Inspector, Miss Fisher's bed is ready," Jack heard the manservant announce from behind. Nodding, Jack slowly turned in order to not to jostle awake the sleeping figure in his arms. Following Mr. Butler up the stairs, they turned down a hall to a room Jack suspected was Phryne's boudoir.
They quietly entered the room in Phryne's house that he never thought he would ever enter. He was quick to observe the style in which Phryne had styled her inner sanctum after and was pleased with how it pulled at how it suited her personality quite perfectly. Jack decided that it was quite the way he thought it would be after exploring the other rooms around the first floor.
Jack carefully settled Phryne down on her bed before rearranging a pillow to make sure she was comfortable. As they retreated from the room, she sighed wistfully before dozing off again. Mr. Butler followed Jack out of the room and into the main hall.
"I'm afraid Miss Fisher isn't going to be pleased once she finds out she unknowingly took a sleeping powder. If she gives you any grief about it, please don't hesitate to ring me at the station," Jack offered as the manservant helped him on with his coat.
"Of course, Inspector," Mr. Butler nodded, showing Jack the door.
Jack looked for the motorcar he and Collins had arrived in, but didn't find it parked on the street as he'd remembered. Collins must have been called back to the station, Jack thought to himself as he turned out of The Esplanade and started the thirty-minute walk to the station.
/
Jack arrived at the station to find Constable Collins typing notes at his desk.
"Collins, I assume you were needed back here?" Jack asked as he passed the young constable.
"Yes, Sir. I asked Miss Fisher to tell you that I was called back," Collins stood, looking rather penitent.
"It's not your fault, Collins. Miss Fisher's had a rough morning so it's understandable that she forgot to mention it," Jack placated the nervous man.
"Is Detective Inspector Robinson in? I believe he's expecting me," a deep voice filled the waiting area.
"Yes, Commissioner. I believe he's just returned," Constable Riley stated matter-of-factly. Jack realized, none too late, that he had the smell of brandy on his breath and cursed quietly as he exited his office to find Commissioner Hawkes standing patiently in the waiting area.
"Commissioner Hawkes, won't you step into my office?" Jack offered, feeling suddenly concerned as to the reason the Commissioner was paying him a visit. He rarely, if ever, came to the stations unless it suited his political purposes.
"Indeed. I was just dropping by to see what progress has been made on the case," the Commissioner stated as he sat in the chair opposite Jack's.
"Well, the two victims seem to be tied to Lord Alfred Stanton. I paid him a visit this morning, to ask him some questions about how the victims were related to him. It seems that our first victim, Marcus Brady, was a jockey and was due to ride in the Cup this week. Other than that, no connection as of yet. The second victim that Miss Fisher stumbled upon, Stephen Callahan, was fired three months ago after a heated discussion between him and Lord Stanton. Apparently, the disagreement was in relation to Callahan's wages, but I suspect that's not what the real discussion was about," informed Jack.
"Jack, please listen carefully. If, indeed, Lord Stanton is involved, you will need hard evidence as to how this all relates to him. He's extremely powerful and if you go accusing him before you have evidence, your employment with the Victorian Constabulary will, sadly, be terminated. Do, please, keep my office informed of any updates or even suspicions. I want to stay informed." The Commissioner paused for a moment in thought before speaking again. "There's another matter I would like to address while I'm here. That of Miss Phryne Fisher. I'm told she's been a participant in several of your cases and, as much as I don't mind Miss Fisher's involvement, I can see that she is just as determined as her aunt. What is her involvement in this particular case?"
"I'm trying to keep her out of it, Sir. She's distressed over the effect it's had on her daughters. I'll try and keep her from getting too involved with this case, but I don't know how long it'll be before I'll need to process her," Jack admitted.
"I understand. Do what you can and if she becomes too much of a nuisance, I want you to call me and I'll have a word with her. I doubt she'd appreciate it, but we must do what we must." Another pause and then, "Tell me, Jack, do you care for Miss Fisher?" Jack's eyes widened at being caught so off guard.
"Sir?" queried Jack, pretending not to know what the Commissioner was implying.
"Do you have more than professional feelings for Miss Fisher? Are you romantically involved with her?"
"No, Sir. There are times when Miss Fisher invades my personal space against my wishes, but I am not romantically involved with her. If I ever were to become involved with her, I would put in for a transfer or end the relationship," Jack lied coolly. Jack watched as Commissioner Hawkes judged his rebuff and decided to accept it; although both men knew that what Jack had said wasn't the honest to goodness truth.
"All I ask is that you keep your relationship, however, you would define it, professional. It becomes difficult when a police officer's mind is telling him one thing while his heart says another. Just remember that, Inspector. I'll leave you to your case, then." the Commissioner stood, shook Jack's hand and left the station.
Jack slumped into his chair and began to really think about what he had told Ruth and how he'd just lied to his boss right to his face about how he felt for Phryne. This could become a real catastrophe if not handled properly. He'd deal with the Commissioner later. But first, he needed to find out where he stood with Phryne in order to pursue the right course of action. Before he made his next move, he really needed to know where he fit into her life.
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