Chapter 9

Summary: Jack can't shake the feeling that something's not quite right...

He couldn't shake it off. No matter what he had tried, Jack couldn't escape the awareness that he was missing something. In fact, what had begun as an insistent niggling of discomfort now felt like the urgent screaming of his old shrapnel wound on days that portended heavy thunderstorms. Glancing out the windshield at the currently clear skies, Jack gripped his steering wheel even harder and gave into the intensity that something was terribly wrong by slamming his foot against the gas pedal so that it was nearly to the floor.

Unfortunately, there had been some discrepancy or other with the paperwork at the estate agents during his earlier appointment. Thus, Jack had had to resign himself to returning later that day after the office had had time to contact George Sanderson to confirm some final details. This meant that he had had to rush back into Warburton after driving Miss Fisher back to the cottage and insisting it was no trouble at all to keep her company until Albert Johnson had arrived to take her back to Melbourne.

Jack knew that Miss Fisher could more than take care of herself, and that her cabbie friend's loyalty was also something that could be relied upon. As he had watched the black cab drive away before climbing back into his own motorcar, Jack's instincts continued to war within himself.

Obviously, there was regret from wishing he could have been the one to accompany his partner back to the city due to a desire to ensure her well-being, especially in light of the recent allegations flooding the newspapers that very day. In spite of her usual poise and customary flirting, Jack could still sense the turmoil she tried to mask when she had bounced up onto her toes to plant a slightly longer than necessary kiss of farewell to his cheek. He had squeezed her hand after assisting her into the cab and nodded at her reminder of his acceptance to join her for dinner at Wardlow later that evening after his own return.

Of course, Jack had every intention of doing so, and not just because he had finally received verification from Constable Collins to his earlier telephone call to City South Station following his return to town. As often happened in his line of work, it nearly felt worst to have his speculations confirmed, which was exactly what occurred when he heard Collins dutifully reading out the names of each of the girls who had gone missing alongside Janey Fisher. Then, his heart had begun to pound again when his officer began to read out the names of each girl's immediate family members. Following the familiar litany of the Fishers, Jack knew they were onto something when Collins read out the name of the missing girl, Ethel Goodwin, and confirmed she had an older sister named Norma.

After instructing Hugh to drop whatever he was working on to go investigate what he could about Norma Goodwin and find out where she had gone and what she was now doing, Jack had rushed back to the estate agents. Even though he had borrowed the office and telephone of the sergeant at Warburton's smaller police office to contact Collins, the inspector could tell from his constable's extra stammering that something else was amiss. Jack also felt it more prudent to keep his suspicions regarding the so-called 'new evidence' linked to Miss Fisher to himself until he could return and make use of his own more discreet channels. Reassuring the younger man that he would be back on duty the following day, Jack had returned to the estate agents and used every ounce of his authoritative bearing that he normally reserved for recalcitrant perpetrators to finalize everything once and for all with the property sales. Then, he had sped off having already packed his few belongings from his fishing hut after seeing Miss Fisher off.

As the familiar roads and landmarks of Melbourne began to mark his route back into the city, Jack debated whether he had time to at least stop by his residence and change into his favourite suit before making his way over to Wardlow. Niggling instincts or not, he always felt more like himself when presenting his suited self to the world (and especially a certain fellow detective). Even so, he hurried through his ablutions like someone with a hound at his heels. Before long, the inspector found himself standing on Wardlow's familiar doorstep outwardly presenting his stoic composure. Internally, however, his pulse had begun to speed up as a result of the overwhelming alarm bells now ringing through his head.

Thus, Jack wasn't even the slightest surprised when the familiar front door jerked open to reveal a pale-looking Mr Butler. He retained his usual calmed demeanour, but his eyes betrayed a mixture of anxiety and relief.

"It's truly good to see you, sir, please come inside." The kindly older man gestured for the inspector to enter.

As he complied, an agitated Dorothy Williams rushed into the entryway, her features bearing evidence of recent tears. She immediately reached out towards Jack and gripped his hands with more strength than her usually timid nature portrayed.

"Oh, thank God you're finally here, Inspector Robinson!"

"What's happened, Miss Williams?" He knew without being told that it had somehow had to do with Miss Fisher and her very conspicuous absence.

"It's Miss Phryne, Inspector," Dot cried out as a fresh bout of tears began streaming down her face. "She was arrested as soon as Bert brought her back home earlier!"

"What? By whom?"

"The constable who had been standing guard took her away," Mr Butler confirmed after closing the door. "He said the 'top brass' had ordered her to be arrested soon as she returned."

"Did he say where he was taking her?"

"No, and we still don't know, Inspector," Miss Williams fretted. "Bert followed them straight away, and we still haven't heard from him. I've been trying to get hold of Hugh, but haven't been able to reach him either. And the officer on the duty desk refused to speak to me."

"May I borrow your telephone, please?"

After telephoning his own station and demanding a full briefing from the now sufficiently cowed lackey at the desk, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson offered what ressurances he could to Miss Fisher's household to get to the bottom of things. He then donned his hat, returned to his motorcar and sped off to Russell Street.

~oOo~

Jack glanced up briefly when the headlamps of a passing vehicle illuminated the columns of what most people still referred to as the Old Melbourne Gaol, located just across the street from the Victoria Police's main headquarters on Russell Street. The irony was not lost on the inspector as he wondered what Miss Fisher would think about the fact that the former city jail had been renovated and opened in 1927 as a new college exclusively for women. That in and of itself might have passed muster except for the fact this particular college was dedicated solely to the 'domestic sciences'. Perhaps he would ask her as soon as he could discover her whereabouts and secure her release, which he was set on doing as he marched up the steps to the imposing building housing his superiors.

The inspector headed straight towards the front desk, taking out his badge and whipping it under the nose of the constable stationed there who still had not yet looked up from whatever he was writing down.

"I'm here to see Miss Phryne Fisher who was incarcerated earlier today," Jack informed the junior officer without any preamble.

"Good evening, Inspector Robinson," the other man responded smoothly, a trace of snide arrogance underlying his tone as he finally looked up after taking in Jack's credentials. "We were told to inform Deputy Commissioner Sanderson whenever you arrived. Would you care to take a seat in the waiting area whilst I call him?"

"Don't trouble yourself, Constable," Jack responded authoritatively with a menacing glower that evoked a satisfying flicker of uncertainty in the underling's expression. "I'll see myself directly to his office."

He then pushed through the gate and continued making his way resolutely without a backwards glance. The ornate, dark wood panelling of the headquarters' main corridors were meant to display the formidity of those charged with the responsibility of upholding the law. But Jack had never cared for them and now found them more overbearing and constricting than usual. Glancing at his wristwatch, he also knew that the deputy commissioner normally would have gone home by now for his dinner and port. Evidently, Sanderson was working late tonight, however, which only fed into the inspector's assumption that his former father-in-law was connected with Miss Fisher's arrest. Pausing only briefly to give the man's door a perfunctory knock, Jack turned the handle and marched straight in without waiting for a response.

"Good evening, Deputy Commissioner," Jack greeted the man seated behind his desk. "Why do you need to be informed if I wish to visit someone who has been taken into custody?"

"Ah, Jack, did you just get back?" George Sanderson responded as he put down his cup of tea. "Thank you for seeing everything through with the holiday property matter, I really appreciate it. Please, take a seat and have some tea."

"No, thank you, sir." Jack remained standing expectantly, waiting for an answer to his query. "I'm here to enquire about Miss Fisher's whereabouts and why she was taken into custody."

"Hmm, yes, I can see why you have been so concerned about her well-being." George remarked as he picked up his drink and began searching about his desk for something. Finally locating what he was looking for, he picked it up and handed it over to Jack with a solemn air. "I thought I had warned you to stay away from her though? You know I don't need to outline how further damaging this has become, Jack."

Jack knew what Sanderson was alluding to as soon as he spotted the newspaper in the other man's hands. All the same he dutifully accepted the paper and regarded the contents on the front page that he had already witnessed earlier that morning in Warburton. Following the racy headline about the so-called 'love nest', several grainy photos still indisputably showed that it was him and Miss Fisher sitting in extremely close proximity on his rowing boat. These were followed by an image of them of them side-by-side on the deck of his hut and another of Jack carrying Phryne in his arms heading inside. He ignored the salubrious captions and looked up with one of his eerily calm expressions.

"With all due respect, sir, I wasn't aware that a citizen could be arrested based on some scandalous allegations by the press." Jack refused to be forced into explaining the truth behind the damning photographs, especially to his former father-in-law. To his credit, Sanderson had the dignity to not pry, but the conversation was far from over.

"Forget the photographs, Jack," George responded with a dismissive wave towards the newsprint that Jack had dropped back onto the desk. "We were forced to take Miss Fisher into custody today because of undeniable evidence that came to police attention."

"What sort of evidence?" Jack scrunched his eyebrows, his hands moving to his hips in a position that belied his intense skepticism.

"There's been the discovery of another letter that Foyle had written to Miss Fisher, outlining details of his plan to escape. In this letter, he wrote that he was giving her one final chance to find out the truth about what happened to her sister. Otherwise, he would disappear and she would never know."

"If she has received another letter from him, that doesn't prove that she in any way aided him in escaping prison."

George didn't respond other than to open one of his desk drawers and draw out an evidence envelope. Knowing he still had Jack's full attention, the deputy commissioner pulled out what looked to be some correspondence on the plain and basic paper that prisoners could request. After removing these and passing them to Jack, Sanderson waited for the inspector to peruse the newly discovered letter from Foyle. Then, as soon as Jack looked up from examining the document and opened his mouth to speak, the deputy commissioner removed another separate piece of parchment from the evidence bag.

This paper was of an obviously higher grade of quality, Jack noted before he instantly recognized the elaborate, silver monogram of Miss Fisher's personalized stationery. Taking the proffered sheet and envelope from his superior, Jack began to read the missive penned in Phryne's elegant and looping hand. His heart began to race because the words his mind was absorbing could leave no doubt that she was in agreement with Foyle's dastardly proposal. Jack silently finished reading the letter twice before passing everything back to the deputy commissioner, his face revealing nothing of his thoughts although everything within him was seething.

"I'd like to visit Miss Fisher now please," the inspector requested again in the dangerously calm tone that those who knew him best took well to pay heed to. Even if George Sanderson hadn't been an intimate part of Jack's life for nearly two decades, the deputy commissioner was also no fool.

"Of course, Jack." Sanderson leaned back fully in his chair, steepled his hands in front of him and slowly nodded. "She might still be in the women's holding cells downstairs."

"What do you mean by 'might be,' George?" Jack's tone held a very strong undercurrent that spoke for itself.

"As I'm sure you're well aware, Inspector," Sanderson informed him cryptically. "Miss Fisher is of that class in society that can wield much influence when required. This does not allow them to be above the law, by any means, but it can certainly help to speed up procedures a lot more quickly than for the average person on the street."

"Please get to the point, sir," Jack bit out as professionally as possible.

"Her solicitor was in touch not long before you arrived having secured her release for the time being."

"I see, thank you for informing me," Jack quickly told the other man to save himself from having to comment on what he really thought about his superior's explanation. "If that's all then I'll bid you good night, sir."

In some ways, he wished Sanderson had started with the fact he may have been on a fool's errand if Phryne had already left. Gritting his teeth to bite back his frustration, Jack gave Sanderson a terse nod before striding out of the richly-decorated office, closing the door firmly behind him. Then, noting that the outer office area was now completely empty of constables, secretaries and cleaning personnel, he all but ran in the direction of the stairs leading down to the holding cells. He flew down the steps, only slowing once he reached the bottom where he took out his credentials before passing through the secure door and then headed in the direction of the women's side of the jail block.

"Jack!" Her voice rang out as she spotted him before his eyes could adjust properly to the darker interior lighting of the cell block. It drew him like a moth to the first and largest cell where she stood watching him anxiously approach before reaching through the bars for his outstretched hand. "I'm so sorry, Jack."

"For what, Miss Fisher?" He gripped her hands tightly, cursing under his breath at how chilled they felt to his touch. "I'm the one who needs to apologize. I should have come back to Melbourne with you, and not let you go through all this on your own."

"Please, Jack," she spoke gently, yet firmly. "Please, stop blaming yourself. You couldn't have known or prevented any of this any more than I could have. And, I haven't been alone, at least not the entire time."

Jack glanced about and wondered what she meant considering the other cells were currently empty and the guard was too far away down the corridor. She caught his unspoken query and rushed on to explain.

"Poor Bert has been run quite ragged all day on my behalf. First of all, I wanted to make sure he could go fetch dear Aunt Prudence and bring her here since they only allowed me to telephone my solicitor. The constable that brought me down here agreed to contact my next of kin, which I can imagine must have worried the poor old dear to no end. Especially as I have no idea whether Guy and Isabella are still in town or not."

"Was Mrs Stanley here all day then?"

"She was, but not down here. After checking to make certain I was all right, she left again to raise hell with the Chief Commissioner… and most likely everyone else she could think of between here and the Prime Minister's office. I asked Bert to stay with her and take here wherever she needed to go."

"That would explain why he hadn't had the time to notify your household, at least, not before I had arrived back."

"Oh poor Dot and Mr Butler, they must have been beside themselves with worry! I did ask Bert to try to let them know soon as he could. And Jane! I hope they didn't disrupt her day at school."

"From what I could tell, I don't think that was the case when I arrived at your house." He felt a measure of relief at the slight smile that curved her lips. "Besides, I'm certain the combination of your aunt's influence and your solicitors have secured your bail and imminent release by now. I just came from the deputy commissioner's office and he more or less confirmed this."

Miss Fisher suddenly tightened her hold before releasing his hands completely and stepping away from the metal bars between them.

"I'm sorry, Jack, for getting you dragged into this whole big mess." She began to pace before stopping to look at him earnestly. "For ruining your reputation like this… and now, most likely, your career as well!"

"No, Miss Fisher, I'm the one who's sorry," he immediately protested. "Hang my reputation! What's important is getting you out of here." She suddenly stopped him with a piercing look before interrupting him with a decisive air.

"Thank you for your concern, Inspector," she declared before crossing her arms and turning away from him partially, her face now hidden by the shadows. "But, I really do think it'd be best if you go now. You should distance yourself from me and all this before it can get any worst."

"But, Miss Fisher…"

"Jack, please go. I'll be fine."

"Phryne, you must know that…" he tried again before looking over his shoulder at the loud echoes of the guard approaching. She turned her head towards him as he attempted to finish conveying his message to her with his eyes alone. Seconds later the guard called out that their visit needed to come to an end.

Removing his grip back from the bars he had been holding, Jack nodded in resignation at the other officer who held out his arm to indicate that Jack should preceed him down the corridor. Pushing his hands into his pockets, the inspector shivered slightly from more than just the chilly air emanating from the cell and its lone occupant that he was forced to leave behind.

For now.