Chapter 8

A sudden sense of urgency forced Jack's eyes open, his cramped body scolded him profusely for having fallen asleep in his rocking chair. He ignored the pain and instinctively sprang alert and surged forward at the sound of a loud thump and then someone crying out in panic.

"Jack! Jack, where are you?"

Phryne!

He refrained from responding audibly until he could be certain of her safety. Immediately whipping his head back and forth to scan the back porch, Jack decisively grabbed the little footstool before silently cracking the back door open a fraction to assess the situation. His eyes adjusted to the darker interior whilst his heart continued to hammer in his ears.

Just as quickly, relief slammed against him, prompting him to lower his makeshift weapon when he saw she was alone inside the hut. This was quickly replaced by concern as he recognized the fact that she was thrashing about and wrestling against some unseen foe.

"Phryne," he called out gently, yet loudly enough for her to hear as he slowly approached. "It's me, Jack, and I'm right here. You're having a bad dream."

"Jack?"

Her frantic movements paused momentarily at the sound of his voice before she began groping and kicking about against the covers entangled around her legs. He noticed that her eyes remained closed.

"Jack, hurry, he's got her! We have to catch him, and get her back!"

"Shhh, I'm here now," he soothed as he approached and knelt down by the side of the bed, reaching out to grasp her by her upper arms to alert her of his presence. "It's all right."

"Jack, we can't let him get away!" Her voice broke into a heart wrenching sob that pierced him as he carefully wove his arms about her to hold her tightly to him, whilst still making soft soothing sounds. When she finally stopped struggling, he pulled back far enough to cup her face with his right hand, brushing his thumb against the tears staining her normally joy-filled visage.

"It's all right, Phryne," he continued to reassure her, willing her to open her eyes and flee from whatever trauma she was experiencing in her distressing dreams. "I'm here now. It's only a dream."

He felt her arms squeeze him tightly once she felt assured that he was substance and not imagination. Jack then maneuvered himself so he could slip onto the edge of the cot before shifting her full weight onto his lap, cradling her against him and making soft, comforting noises. Eventually, he could feel her heartbeat begin to even out as they clung to one another until she breathed out a ragged sigh against his neck.

"Jack," she mumbled against his chest before drifting back off to sleep.

"I'm not going anywhere, Miss Fisher," he promised her. Unwilling to leave her alone again, he simply held her until he, too nodded off.

~oOo~

For the second time in what felt like minutes (but was hopefully several hours), Jack felt himself being pulled from his sleep, but this time by a less frantic and more gentle sensation. He sensed a slight pressure against his lips that caused him to blink his eyes open only to find a set of very familiar blue ones watching him mischievously. Jac was instantly awake only to find himself curled up around one scantily clad lady detective who was happily nestled inside his arms.

"Morning, Inspector," she replied in that particular tone of delight she seemed to always use when greeting him.

"Good morning, Miss Fisher." His deep voice rumbled against the finger still resting against his lips.

"I find I must report to you that I've found your observations to be incorrect when it comes to your assessment about this fine establishment and its sleeping quarters."

"Oh? I suppose I could be amenable to hearing any official complaints." He couldn't help twitching his own features to reveal the relief and happiness he felt at the sight of her welcome smile that lit up her entire face. The light of dawn creeping through the hut's sole window revealed her tousled hair, as well as a tantalizing glimpse of the lace edging her light pink camisole. And that barely covered the rest of her that was tightly pressed up against his own rumpled shirt-covered chest. He tried not to gulp when her finger slid down his jaw and then reached his throat, especially when the wicked woman began to undo the first button she found. Jack immediately began to pull away when his manners caught up with him.

"Yes, I'm finding that this cot is certainly a lot more than merely tolerable. Especially in the morning."

He eventually clasped his own hand around her wandering ones before they could inflict any further danger to his person.

"Well, as your host, I must say that it greatly relieves me to learn this, Miss Fisher," he informed her as he continued to gently extract himself, smiling slightly at her pout. "And as my esteemed guest, I must apologize for this extremely unorthodox manner of waking up."

"Nonsense, Jack! This has been nearly one of my most satisfying wake-up calls yet."

"Only nearly?"

"Well, I can think of a few ways to improve it immensely, Inspector."

At her seductive tone, Jack quickly swivelled his legs to the side of the cot and sat up with as much dignity as he could manage considering the circumstances. He remained perched on the edge with his back to her, gathering his equilibrium as her warmth and unique fragrance continued to cling to him.

"I'm sorry that you've found your visit has disappointed you after all, Miss Fisher," he teased, glancing back over his shoulder just in time to catch the small frown creasing her brow. He then turned back towards her slightly, not able to resist running his fingers through a few loose strands of her hair and swept them away from her eyes, pausing when he noted the sudden uncertainty he found there. "What is it?"

"I do hope that you were able to get a good night's rest, Jack." He could tell from the tone in her voice that she must have just recalled her nightmare-induced struggle and how it might have disrupted his sleep. "Especially as I never intended to take over your bed like this." Gone was all hint of innuendo as a hint of the terrible dream still tinged her eyes.

"I'm more than all right, Phryne," he reassured her, reaching for one of her hands. "Why don't you use the facilities whilst I go rustle us up some tea and something hopefully edible for breakfast?

"Kippers and toast?" She grinned at him.

"God, no!" He winced with a twinkle in his eye. "Even if we had the time for a morning catch, I think I've had my fill of fish for several days."

"Are you absolutely certain, Inspector? Or maybe you'd prefer some duck instead? Do you own a hunting rifle?"

He tilted his head and gave her a sly look. "I was actually thinking along the lines of a cozy tea room in Warburton serving scones that could rival that of Miss Williams."

"I find that highly difficult to believe, Jack," she loyally countered. "But, as a good investigator knows, it's always best to test a theory and not just rely on hearsay."

~oOo~

Several hours later, the detectives were happily ensconced at a lace-draped table for two that was tucked into the bay window of a charming tea room off of Warburton's High Street. In fact, Jack wondered idly if there was any spare inch of the place that hadn't been enshrined with some bit of floral or lace material. He stopped fiddling with the edge of the extra frilly tablecloth when he caught a flash of movement from the corner of his eye that prompted him to eye his partner warily.

"I did offer to order you your own slice, Miss Fisher," Jack reminded her with an exaggerated eye roll as she decisively attacked an extra hearty portion of his apple tart with her fork.

"I thought I couldn't manage after those delightful scones, Jack" she confessed as she vanquished her spoil of war. "But I couldn't help myself when your order arrived." She then leaned in conspiratorially, lowering her tone to a breathless, sultry register. "And especially after witnessing your reaction to it."

He purposefully ignored her in order to make some headway into the pie himself until she managed to navigate her fork just so. And somehow managed to nick another precious corner of the prized delicacy! His icy glare completely missed its mark as she had closed her eyes to savour the bite slowly.

"By the by, don't let on to either Dot or Mr B that they have some stiff competition, especially should they ever decide to branch out and start their own cafe."

"God forbid!" Jack agreed in alarm at the thought of losing either of them and their divine culinary skills to a venture of free enterprise as he quickly swallowed another biteful to reassure his belly.

Phryne hummed in agreement before leaning in for another attempt to invade and conquer the dessert. When the inspector encircled his plate possessively with his left arm and actually grunted in a defensive tone, Phryne decided to relinquish her attempts momentarily and settled for watching him fondly instead. She'd often wondered if Jack's passion for food extended to any other areas of his life and was intent to uncover as many as she could.

Suddenly, something caught her eye outside the window. Phryne immediately craned her head and leaned back as far as she could in her chair to peer through the glass somehow without losing her balance.

"Spot an old friend all the way out here?" Jack looked up long enough to arch a brow before quickly resuming his mission to engulf the remainder of his dessert whilst his partner was otherwise occupied.

"That's just it, Jack," she mused out loud. "I could have sworn I recognized that woman who passed the window just now. Or, her coat at least, to be more specific."

"Far be it from me to question your fine taste and attention to detail when it comes to fashion, Miss Fisher." He thanked the server who had come to check on them at that moment, readily accepting a refill of his tea cup. Between the two of them, they had drained their original teapot ages ago.

"Thank you, but no." Phryne, however, politely declined when the server turned towards her and then moved onto the next table. Jack immediately recognized the expression she wore as though she were a hunter picking up a scent. He managed to hide his slight grin behind his cup just as Miss Fisher straightened herself.

"I was just thinking, Jack, now that we're finished here," she began with a pointed look at his empty plate, completely devoid of even any crumbs. "Perhaps, I should just pop back over to the post office to check whether or not anyone has responded to my messages."

"Good plan, Miss Fisher." The inspector quickly glanced down at his well-worn wristwatch. "I still have about twenty minutes before my appointment at the estate agents if you'd like some company."

At her beaming smile, he rose and dug through his pocketbook to pay the bill whilst Phryne edged her way towards the door, discreetly keeping an eye on the street traffic. She then took Jack's arm and the two of them left the cafe and strolled out into the sunshine looking for all the world like a happy pair of holidaymakers. Phryne kept glancing into every shop window as they made their way in the direction of the post office.

Over the course of their drive into town from the holiday cottages, Jack had briefed Miss Fisher about his appointment to assist in the sale of his former in-laws' holiday property. She readily accepted it as one of the chief reasons for his unexpected escape from the city even though he had left out most of the details. It was mostly from the desire of not wanting to bore her. In actuality, there was still some reason why he still didn't feel ready for her to learn the full history between him and his superior officer. He wasn't sure why since he trusted her completely, but now didn't seem the time to examine this just yet.

On Phryne's part, she had managed to transform herself in record time once Jack had stopped and waited for outside her cottage. She had rushed back out in one of her more customary visions of couture waving something that resembled a telegram. Jack had certainly done his best to focus on her words and the road and not reveal how much he appreciated how the silky aquamarine dress especially set off her pale skin and dark bob to maximum advantage. Apparently, the message had been delivered and was from Miss Williams requesting Miss Fisher to telephone or telegram Wardlow as soon as possible.

They had arrived to the post office before it had even properly opened for business. After her insistent knocking and layering of charm, the young postmaster had allowed Phryne inside where she immediately made use of their telephone and then their telegraph services after she couldn't reach anyone at home. Jack had taken a brief stroll about the rest of the High Street whilst he waited for her, and then suggested that they try out his aforementioned tea room. They both speculated about what was happening back home in Melbourne until the arrival of the heavenly food stole their focus.

"Ah, Miss Fisher, not a second too soon," the postmaster called out in greeting soon as the tinkling of the bell over the door alerted him to the arrival of a customer. "You've received several messages since you were last here."

"Why, thank you ever so much, Mr Rogers," she cooed at him as he handed her an envelope. Quickly opening it, she began to read as Jack busied himself over by the newsstand. The first was a response from Dot followed by a second telegraphed message from Bert. Dot's message told her miss to try to find a copy of that day's newspapers and Bert's message informed her he would be arriving by noon to pick her up from her cottage. They had both alluded to the fact that Miss Fisher should return back to Melbourne as soon as possible. Wanting more information than was available, Phryne had then made use of the telephone again and was able to reach Dot this time. Jack had wandered back over to her by this point, his instincts prompting him to stay close to Miss Fisher as he paid for the newspapers he had selected.

"You're absolutely certain then, Dot? Yes, I know. I'll be sure to inform Inspector Robinson, and we will figure out a plan, don't you worry. Please let Bert know I received his telegram, and that I'll be ready by the time he arrives. Thank you, Dot, you're an angel!"

Jack nodded towards the door as he tucked the newspapers under his other arm. She understood that he was indicating for them to retreat from under the extra watchful eyes of the eager postmaster and ears of the handful of other customers mingling about. After they thanked Mr Rogers for his services, Phryne again took Jack's arm and the two of them again found themselves striding down the High Street, albeit a little less carefree than before.

"Jack, we need to look at the newspapers," Phryne informed him in a slightly hushed tone, keeping her social smile pasted in place. "Apparently, there's been more, ahem, 'evidence' that's been published."

"I know, Miss Fisher," Jack confirmed. "I've already glanced at enough of the headlines and front page articles to understand everyone's concerns. Also sounds like we need to get back and pay this Stormy Normy a visit, it would seem." The slight tick in his jaw and the increase in speed by which he led them to a nearby, empty park bench was indication enough of his own worry. During their drive into town, Phryne had also taken the opportunity to update Jack on what she and the others had managed to find out since he had left town.

"Bert already did apparently," she informed him as they sat down closely side-by-side, and Jack handed over one a newsprint sheet to her. "Good thing he's so naturally suspicious by nature."

"Hmm, I must admit that both he and Cecil have some meritable detecting traits, untrained as they are. But don't tell them I said so." Jack pointed out the article he recommended she start with. "So what did Albert discover then?"

"Bert said he had a hunch after meeting with Stormy Normy, and followed him last night. According to what he told Dot, something about him didn't 'sit right.' So, Bert tailed him for a few hours and nearly left him when it was obvious he was simply returning to the office of the Daily Star ."

"What prompted him to stick about then?"

"The fact that Normy began to kick up a fuss once he was inside. He was so loud that Bert could overhear him through the door that he had kept propped open with his foot after Normy had gone inside. The man was looking for someone, a woman who had promised to pay him."

"This woman wasn't present then, I take it? Could he have been looking for the office's secretary? Maybe she'd forgotten to process payroll?"

"That's what Dot wondered as well, but Bert heard Normy being told that he would have to come back in a day or so because the person he was looking for wasn't there. When he began yelling again, the other person told him that 'Miss Goodwin should be back in town by then.'"

"Did you say Goodwin?" Phryne watched as Jack narrowed his eyes in the way he did when he wasn't happy or working through an especially stubborn and elusive conundrum. Now, he looked like he was doing both.

She nodded before continuing. "Then, after Stormy Normy left, Bert wandered into the office himself, saying he had some juicy tidbit of information that he had supposedly shared with the reporter, Norman Peale, and demanded that he be paid."

"Smart move," Jack admitted slightly absent-mindedly as he continued wearing his puzzle-solving expression.

"Before he was asked to show himself out, Bert was told that that their newspaper's policy stated that every reporter was responsible for paying their own informants and sources themselves to preserve their anonymity."

"That's pretty standard from what I'm aware when it comes to the press."

"True," Phryne conceded as she shook the newspaper at Jack in her eagerness to continue her tale. "But, have you come across a reporter masquerading as someone else? I mean, more than just using a pen name?" She smiled triumphantly when Jack raised his eyebrows for her to continue. "After Bert was shown the door, he followed yet another hunch to remain in the doorway."

"I'm amazed he hasn't been charged more often for loitering."

"Jack, listen! Whoever had shooed away Stormy Normy and then Bert was quick to make a telephone call…"

"That Albert, of course, conveniently overheard as well...oomph." Jack widened his eyes in response to her slight elbow against his ribs.

"...to someone that he called 'Norma!'" She continued eagerly.

"Are you sure he heard 'Norma' and not 'Norman?'"

"Well, not unless this man goes around calling someone named Norman by endearments such as 'sugar' and telling him to 'not get his knickers in a twist.'" It was Phryne's turn to frown as she too tried to make sense of Bert's nocturnal eavesdropping.

Jack suddenly gripped her hand, gently yet firmly, his eyes revealing that the puzzle pieces had finally begun to fall into place for him.

"Phryne, we need to get back to Melbourne as soon as possible. I'll telephone ahead to Collins straight away first since I need him to verify a few facts first. But I'm fairly certain I got it right." He began to stand up still holding her hand. "You mentioned that Albert is already on his way to pick you up?"

"Jack, wait, what are you talking about?" Phryne gave his hand a strong tug, pulling him back down beside her. "Yes, Bert said he'll pick me up from the cottage around noon."

"Phryne, I'm not sure whether it will amount to anything at all," he spoke calmly although his eyes belied his concern for her. "But, if what Bert overheard was true, that there's some mysterious woman connected to the Daily Star who might be responsible for the scandalous rubbish she's been printing about you and Foyle?"

"Miss Norma Goodwin," she whispered, her face going pale as the same puzzle pieces suddenly, yet slowly slid into place for her as well. "It's too much of a coincidence to be one, isn't it?"

"Yes, which in our line of work most likely means it probably isn't." Jack nodded grimly as he wrapped his free arm about her as they both contemplated this latest layer to the mystery.

Although they hadn't spoken of it together yet, the inspector knew Miss Fisher would have the names of the other girls who had disappeared around the time when Janey Fisher had also gone missing emblazoned across her mind. He himself had only just again recently reviewed the files for the three cold cases of the three girls whom the police had never been able to find, or to link successfully to Murdoch Foyle, although he remained the prime suspect. Three lives suspended in limbo until their mysterious disappearances could be solved: Janey Fisher, Deidre Kelly… and Ethel Goodwin.

After reassuring him that she would was all right, Jack reluctantly left Phryne on the bench in order to attend his appointment. She then picked up the first newspaper that had been deserted as she had recounted Bert's findings to Jack.

Its screaming headlines and accompanying photographs nearly caused her to curse out loud:

DETECTIVES ESCAPE ONGOING INVESTIGATION TO FLEE TO LOVE NEST

Vowing to go telephone her solicitor right that very moment, Phryne jumped to her feet and marched away resolutely without seeing the news sheets that had slid to the ground. For now, its glaring headline hid against the grass verge until a passerby picked it up:

NEW EVIDENCE FURTHER INCRIMINATES LORD FISHER'S DAUGHTER