Epilogue

Sunlight and a fresh breeze from a slightly opened window greeted Phryne as she sat up in her bed, feeling more rested than she had in a long while. The inviting aroma of toast wafted over to claim her attention on the break tray where she noticed several items propped on her breakfast tray.

She immediately picked up the first, the morning's newspaper, that was already opened to a particular page. Curious, she began to read the the article that had been marked for her attention:

TO THE EDITOR OF THE ARGUS

Sir,

As a regular subscriber and officer of the law, I have been appalled by the assumptive nature of your staff's reporting abilities of late, especially with regards to recent coverage about police matters. Alongside balancing that fine line bordering on defamation, I fear your approach could also have damaging effects to more than just public trust.

What I am referring to is the invisible destruction of one's sense of self, which I hold to be one of the most significant compasses of all. Knowing oneself is crucial, but fighting to be and stay oneself is paramount. I urge your staff and readers to always be on the search for justice, but most of all for truth in spite of whatever you might report or read.

I conclude with the words of the inimitable Miss Austen, whose talent with words shall always far surpass my own:

'It isn't what we say or think that defines us, but what we do.'

Yours, &.,

J. ROBINSON

North Richmond, Dec 18, 1928

Next to the newspaper sat a package contained in a heavy brown envelope. Phryne eagerly opened it, a smile lighting up her countenance as she recognized the copy of Pride and Prejudice that she had been holding and reading to Jack on the deck of his fishing hut. Had it really only been a few days ago? This time, she closed her eyes when she held the tome up and breathed in the lingering scent of its owner that brought back delicious memories of being curled up around him. Her nose also bumped against the edge of something soft and white sticking out from the edge of the pages, which she immediately fished out.

It was a smaller envelope that she eagerly opened to reveal a single sheet of Jack's writing stationery and an intricately embroidered coaster that she recognized from the tea shop:

Dear Miss Fisher,

I hereby enclose a little souvenir, or two, for you from our recent holiday excursion.

As for the second, I leave it your discretion whether or not to reveal it to the persons who could assist in completing the gift (of which I sincerely hope to indulge if it comes to fruition).

Yours,

Jack

Delighted by the cryptic message, Phryne carefully extricated the beautifully embroidered piece of exquisite craftsmanship from the envelope when she noticed another small envelope still tucked securely inside the leaves of the book. She burst out with a peal of laughter after she had unfolded the piece of paper to discover a hastily inscribed recipe entitled, 'Mrs Hickson's Apple Tart, Teacup and Teapots Tearoom, Warburton.' Already more than touched by his lovely gestures, her heart gave an unexpected tug when she glanced back down at the book and noticed the following sentence underlined within:

"I must learn to be content with being happier than I deserve."

"Oh, Jack," she breathed out fondly at the unexpected discoveries that this dear man was capable of surprising her with when her reverie was interrupted by the knock on her door.

"Good morning, Dot, thank you for this lovely spread...and bringing up the inspector's gifts. Is he still here?"

"No, Miss, he was unable to stay for as he was needed at the station right away because he had asked Hugh to escort Miss Goodwin there for questioning. She was released from hospital this morning. I gave him his things, but he didn't want me to wake you, Miss," Dot continued.

"Thank you for doing that, Dot." Phryne quickly finished a slice of toast. "No matter, perhaps we can take him and Hugh a basket for lunch instead." She broke off her sentence at the sight of Jane appearing at the doorway wearing a solemn expression that disturbed her normally sunny features.

"Morning, Miss Phryne," her ward greeted her. "Bert has just returned from picking up Cec and Alice."

"Excellent, I hope they had a wonderful time!" Phryne responded as she jumped out of her bed, slowing down and when she noticed her foster daughter's subdued behaviour. "Is everything all right, Jane?"

"I don't think so, Miss. They've discovered something from the back of the cab that we think you need to see right away."

"Albert's Antiques and Curiosities. 18 Somers Street, Abbotsford," Phryne read out the name and address from the matchbook that Jane had passed her, her facing draining of colour.

"Miss? What is it?" Jane took her hand as Dot whirled back around, scattering one of the outfits from the armload she held in her concern.

"Foyle had an antique shop before he went to prison. It's a different name, same address." Phryne leaned over to pick up the black and white blouse and began pulling it over her head.

"I'm coming with you," Dot immediately confirmed as she hurriedly produced the rest of the ensemble.

"Jane, you stay here with Mr Butler, Bert and Cec," Phryne instructed. ""Telephone Inspector Robinson, please, Dot. Ask him to meet us there."

As the girls scrambled to comply, Phryne quickly sat down in front of her vanity to finish her morning toilette, when her hand brushed against her jewellery case. Pausing to lift the lid, she stopped to touch the two, pale blue ribbons tucked securely inside.

"We're going to find you soon, Janey," she vowed vehemently, before standing to retrieve her gun from her bedside drawer. "And we're going to bring you home."

Author's Notes:

I was overjoyed upon discovering this link to actual 'Letters to the Editor of the Argus' published in 1928 that you can also enjoy reading here. They provided the inspiration and formatting for Jack's letter in this chapter.

Similarly, I would be more than remiss for not thanking FoxSpirit for her incredible timeline research that has been invaluable for my attempts to maintain chronological and canonical accuracy for this story. Massive hugs to you, Foxy, for providing this amazing tool to us writers!

Finally, big Phryne forehead kisses to you all for your amazing support and comments that always brighten my day! It's been such a joy to share my love for these characters with you!