Chapter 10

Summary: Jack mulls over everything that has happened wishing he could share his thoughts with a certain lady detective...

It was well past midnight by the time Jack finally made it back to his house. Not bothering to turn on any lights after he had locked the front door behind him, he reached out, as he always did, to place his hat on the hook behind the door. Unlike when he had returned earlier, he now remembered to sidestep the stack of boxes filled with books and various other bits and bobs. He had begun sorting through his things once he knew the divorce would become formalized. Long before that he had already decided there really was no point for him to maintain the relatively spacious house all on his own. Besides, the house had also been part of a wedding gift to him and his former wife, again from her father. Like their holiday home, it seemed only right and logical to let go of this part of his past. Breathing out a heavy sigh, Jack navigated his way around his mostly packed up belongings and headed towards his drinks cabinet in the parlour that he now mainly used as a study.

After the abrupt parting between him and Miss Fisher at Russell Street, the inspector had driven straight to City South where he first telephoned 221B The Esplanade to reassure the household of their mistress' well-being and imminent release. Miss Williams had thanked Jack profusely for following up with this welcome information. In fact, they had only just had a welcome telephone call from Miss Fisher herself who was waiting for Bert to come bring her home. Dot was also extremely grateful to the inspector for letting her know about Hugh's whereabouts after Jack discovered that Constable Collins and several other of his men had been dispatched to City Central to support them in another investigation.

Not really wanting to head home at that point, Jack had then perused a few letters, messages and, most importantly, the file of notes that Collins had set aside for his review upon his return to the station. The inspector had to admit he was rather impressed by his protege's ability to unearth as much information as he did about the mysterious Norma Goodwin.

The details were brief, but enough for a seasoned investigator like himself to see a rough outline about the woman's life: First child from a local, well-to-do family; attended a prestigious ladies' college in Adelaide; married by age 18, etcetera. What Jack wanted to know was why and how this young woman from such an uppercrust family ended up working in such an unconventional role as a tabloid newspaper reporter. At least Collins had been able to verify that the Daily Star reporter's byline 'N Peale' was indeed that of a Mrs Norma Peale. From what his constable had managed to track down, Norma Goodwin had wed a Melbourne man by the name of Thomas Peale whose details became sketchy after he had enlisted during the war.

Jack had leaned back in his desk chair then, wishing that he could run through the new facts alongside a nightcap with a certain lady detective. Or even via a telephone call. But it was much too late in the day now. And he knew she had only just been released from being detained after making it clear that she didn't wish to remain in contact with him for the time being. He had run a hand through his hair in frustration at the helplessness he felt about what had happened. No, it was best to keep his distance for now and wait as she might not welcome his intrusion so soon afterwards.

Eventually, Jack had even given up any intent to go over the case files involving what information there was available to the police about Murdoch Foyle. His half-hearted attempts had merely served to summon his vivid recollection of Miss Fisher's nightmare (good heavens, had it only been from the night before?) and the indelible sensations of having her in his arms until dawn. And that only led to the floodgate of every moment of their beautiful day together on the lake and at the hut followed by their lovely breakfast at the tea room. As images of Phryne continued to plague his concentration, Jack knew then that he should just give up any attempts at working through the night and return home to try to get some rest.

Now, with another finger of his favourite whisky lining his stomach, Jack again allowed the warmth of yesterday's memories flow over him as pleasantly as the feeling of the drink now fortifying his insides. His mind, however, joined forces with hunger to stab him with the cold finger of reality. Shaking his head, the happy memories were now replaced by Miss Fisher's words and sad expression before she had turned away from him and asked him to leave.

He groaned out loud then as the avalanche of emotions weighted with guilt and shame that he had been holding at bay all night threatened to swallow him whole. Replaying the entire scene back and forth through his thoughts, Jack was all too aware that her entire demeanour had changed after he had mentioned his visit to the deputy commissioner. Of course she would have recoiled at the reminder that he represented those who had arrested her. How he wished he could have somehow prevented it all from happening. He shouldn't have gone away when he did, even if Sanderson had been so persistent about it. That way, he could have discovered the emergence of the new letters between Foyle and Miss Fisher. But, no, something about the entire thing still didn't sit right because Jack knew that Phryne would have told him about them. Wouldn't she? No matter, here he was wallowing away at home when he should be figuring out just exactly who was targeting his partner and why.

Suddenly, he heard a distinctly out of place noise from somewhere else in the house. Putting down his tumbler, Jack silently crept towards the hallway where he picked up his sturdy cricket bat that he still had not had the opportunity to pack yet due to its weight and size. There was another sound, this time a slight rustling noise coming from the direction of his kitchen. As he neared the door, lifting his bat into a swinging stance, the inspector was suddenly assaulted by a combination of overpowering scents.

One of which was distinctly familiar.

Jack instantly lowered his weapon to flick on the kitchen's light switch hidden next to his ice chest. The glare revealed a rapidly-blinking lady detective standing in the middle of his kitchen.

"Hello, Jack!" She greeted him as though it were the middle of the day and this wasn't the first time she had ever been to his home. "You should have let me know to bring along my cricket whites." She added in a playful tone with a little nod towards his bat whilst continuing to remove items from a large basket on his kitchen table. He was still too stunned to form any type of coherent response.

Instead, Jack felt himself begin to sway slightly at the combination of pounding adrenaline and alcohol on an empty stomach as the familiar fragrance of her French perfume fought with the mouth-watering aromas of whatever was still hiding in the basket. Sensing something wasn't right, Miss Fisher turned to assess him again with one sweeping look. Instantly, her former clinical training took over as she quickly rushed to his side and gripped him around the waist with one arm. The other removed the cricket bat and propped it against the nearest wall.

Pulling out one of the sturdy chairs at the wooden table, she pushed him into it before feeling his forehead and lifting a wrist to feel his pulse whilst checking his eyes. Apparently satisfied with her brief check-up, she then began flitting about his kitchen as though it were her own, producing plates, cutlery and a tall glass of water in front of him. Then with a flourish, she began uncovering several wondrous dishes filled with to heaps of roasted beef, perfectly crisped potatoes au gratin...and finally, a ramekin dish of something that looked like a golden apple crumble.

"Honestly, you leave me for only a few hours, and this is the state I find you in!" She scolded him with a flash of a smile as she began plopping the food onto his plate before stopping to wave the serving spoon at him menacingly. "Start with that glass of water, Inspector, that I've added some sugar to to help recover your blood sugar levels."

"Yes, Nurse Fisher," he mumbled in response, pushing away his shock at discovering her, and giving in to do as he was told. She watched him like a hawk before handing him a fork once she was satisfied he had drunk enough water.

"Chew, Jack," she prompted him with a fond pat to the side of his face as she settled herself into the seat adjacent to him. Propping her chin against one hand, she leaned over with one elbow on the table to continue watching him tuck into the meal. "Since our dinner plans were so rudely upended, I wanted to make it up to you, especially after you left..."

She trailed off then, twirling a strand of hair with one finger, as she paused with an uncharacteristic air of uncertainty. "Although, I did mean what I said about not wanting to ruin your reputation and career."

Jack immediately put down his utensils to gently take her other hand that had been playing with his glass of water.

"And I meant what I was unable to finish saying to you, Miss Fisher," he said clearly. "I will always believe in you no matter what anyone else says or does, including yourself."

She blinked suddenly and glanced away briefly at his words. Jack wisely let go of her hand, and resumed eating giving her the space she seemed to need.

"It's just that, I didn't really trust that guard down at the cells, especially after he failed to notice my oozing charm," she finally responded with a tiny hint of her regular sassiness. "But actually, I didn't trust anyone wearing a uniform after they told me their reasons for arresting me."

"Well, it's rather fortuitous then that I'm no longer required to wear one." Jack's mouth quirked slightly before he resumed his serious expression. "Phryne, I don't blame you at all for feeling that way, especially until we can get to the bottom of this latest so-called evidence against you."

It was his turn to blink rapidly when she jumped up abruptly with the full return of her usual vibrant energy.

"That's what I couldn't wait to talk to you about, Jack! As you know, I've had ample time to ponder about everything that's been happening." She noticed that his plate was nearly clean before wandering back to his kitchen cupboards and rummaged about for two spoons that she brought back and waved enthusiastically towards the dessert. "And I've got the perfect plan! Let's go over it all with Mr B's crumble...and a nightcap?"

"I'm sure I can offer you something adequate to the task, Miss Fisher," Jack agreed before pushing back his chair and began rising to his feet slowly. Phryne was instantly standing extremely close to him, reaching out a hand as though to help steady him again.

"I never doubted it for a minute." When he seemed to manage fine on his own, she lightly ran it down one of his lapels instead. "But do feel free to add anything else you think might enhance our discussion, Inspector."

Jack coughed slightly as her fingers lifted up to sweep some of his unruly hair that had long ago escaped its daytime confines. "Well, Miss Fisher, I'm afraid that most of my things have now been wrapped up or packed away."

"Well then, Inspector, good thing I'm an expert at unravelling things!"

Her hand drifted downwards with a teasing pluck to his slightly loosened tie knot before she turned to pick up the crumble dish. Then, with a flash of her impish smile, she whirled out of the room in a flurry, leaving him to pick up the spoons and follow in her wake.