Phryne studied the back of Jack's neck as she rode behind him in the car. Between the collar of his trenchcoat and the brim of his hat, only a small sliver of skin could be seen, and she longed to run her fingers over it, to see him shudder at the unexpected sensation.
Of course, she reminded herself, she would do no such thing right here and now, with Collins sitting right beside him and a couple of killers to catch, but she filed the idea away for a later date.
At one point Collins slowed and glanced nervously at the Inspector, and Phryne realised suddenly where they were.
"We must be close to where I crashed," she remarked.
"Mmm." Jack said nothing else, and she leaned forward, bracing herself with an arm around the back of his seat and contriving to place her hand on his shoulder, out of Collins' line of sight, at the same time.
"It's likely to take me a while to arrange a replacement vehicle. I wonder if perhaps at some point you might be willing to drive me up here so I can compensate the woman whose dress I stole?"
If there had been anyone other than Collins in the car she wouldn't have dared make such an obvious suggestion, but Collins was unlikely to recognise anything odd in her words – a straightforward young man himself, he frequently seemed confused by any but the most direct statements – and she wanted to distract Jack from brooding too much over her near-demise.
As she had hoped he turned to her, his lips tantalisingly close, and she felt him relax under her hand. "It would be my pleasure, Miss Fisher."
She couldn't kiss him, but she held his gaze for a moment and glanced meaningfully at his lips. "Thank you," she replied, and saw him smile.
"That's it," she told Collins a short while later. He pulled into a driveway, parking in front of the gate.
"Are you certain this is the place?" Jack asked, and she nodded.
"You see that section of broken fence, there? I noticed it the first time I came up here: I remember I didn't think much of a farmer who would risk having his stock stray onto the road. The driveway curves around to the left behind that bank, then right towards the house. I would say the distance is about a hundred yards, but they won't see us until we're almost there."
"Very good." The second car had pulled up behind them, and the other policemen were climbing out. "Miss Fisher, I want you to remain with me the entire time we're here, is that understood?"
She smiled. "Of course."
His narrowed eyes indicated that, based on past experience, he didn't trust her as far as he could throw her, but he hardly had time to argue the point at that moment.
As planned, Jones took point up the driveway, which was laid out exactly as Phryne had described. The house was silent, and every bit as grim as she had said, and Jack signalled the men to fan out to their positions.
The front doorknob turned easily in his hand and he opened the door gingerly, mindful that it would probably creak. Guns in hand, the two of them slipped inside. The scrape of metal on china from the room to their right drew their attention, and Jack burst into the kitchen as the two men were eating what was presumably either an early lunch or a late breakfast.
"Police! Don't move!"
He stepped to the side, letting Phryne enter the room behind him. Both men gasped when they saw her, and one muttered an obscenity. Their reactions were enough to confirm his suspicions, but he asked the question anyway:
"Are these the men?"
"Yes." Phryne answered decisively. "These are the men who shot at me after I discovered the body they had hidden here, then pursued me in a green Studebaker.
Constable Abbot stepped into the room as Jack moved towards Kemp and Lawrence.
"In that case, I am placing you both under arrest for the attempted murder of Miss Phryne Fisher, the suspected murder of Miss Kathryn Asquith, and various dishonesty charges. Constable, I want both these men in chains."