Chapter 5: Blood Rain

DI Robinson found himself in a tricky situation. Miss Marie White was indeed a fascinating woman. In fact, she reminded him rather of Phryne. Then again, she was very much not Phryne, which meant he felt attracted and repelled in equal amounts by her. It had turned out to be the most awkward of sensations. Jack cleared his throat.

"So, how well did you know Marcel Denier, Miss White?"

She seemed to ponder this, as she took another drag from her cigarette.

"Not as well, as he would have liked it." She finally offered with a charming smile. Jack refused to return it, giving her a stern look that told her clearly that he was not compelled to flirt with her. At least not while investigating.

"So, the deceased showed romantic interest in you?"

"I don't know if I would call it 'romantic'." She laughed as she rubbed out her gasper, then locked eyes with the Inspector.

"Marcel was a charming, rich, handsome man and very aware of that very fact." She said with a shrug of her white shoulders that made the covering fur slip.

"He was also married." The Detective inquired.

"Yes, so he was. That didn't stop him though from certain... lets say flirtations."

Miss White managed to make that word sound almost frivolous. The detective swallowed hard. In some respects she really did remind him of Miss Fisher.

"Is there any woman in particular you remember him having this kind of 'flirtations' with?"

She hesitated a moment too long for his liking before she denied. She was lying. But for the life of him he could not have said why.

X

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry, Sir, I was not aware you were looking for me."

Hugh straightened his back; being called "Sir" was a rather rare occurrence for the young Constable. The search for the Butler had led him through the hands of two very chatty maids who had decided to share much more information about their employers with him than he'd really wanted to know. Like a good, eager policeman he had written down their eating habits and their recurring guest list, quietly sighing to himself. His ears had pricked up however when one of them, by the name of Elisabeth, had told him about their master being a bit of a "ladies man" even though she refused to go into details, blushing furiously about herself being so forward. Finally he had managed to pry the whereabouts of Simon Ellis from them, which turned out to be alone in Mrs. Demier's rooms, clearing away the tea service. Hugh Collins found himself surprised to be confronted with a man not older than 40. Somehow, Butlers to him had always been rather stuffy men with white hair. Save Mr. Butler of course, he added silently.

"I'm afraid, Milady is quite in disarray. Finding her husband was a terrible shock for her."

The Constable licked his lips in concentration, going through his notes, before looking up again. "Mrs. Denier was in your company, when she saw the body?"

"That's correct, sir. We had split up in pairs of two, searching the grounds. When we walked along the lakeside I spied a shadow in the water that on closer inspection turned out to be my master."

Hugh nodded, scribbling eagerly.

"Did you notice anything out of the ordinary?"

"You mean beside the dead body, sir?"

The policeman's head shot up, looking for a glimmer of sarcasm in the serious exterior of the servant. He was searching in vain however. Only a tiny sparkle in his opposites eyes might have been a hint of humour.

"Yes, beside the dead body, Mr. Ellis." He finally stated weakly.

The Butler pondered this, before answering.

"I walked into the shallow water to have a look but he was already cold, long since dead, I'm afraid. Mrs. Denier cried out, I believe when she realised what we found and then we were joined by Miss Fisher and Mr. Sinclair, who were searching near by."

"Would you have any thoughts..."

A scream cut Hugh off before he had finished the sentence. Both men locked eyes before starting to run as one.

X

"Jack, I think I might have something for you."

A pair of grey eyes looked up from pondering over some notes. It had been a long day and the Inspector felt a headache coming on. None of the guests had really brought him any closer to a motive, save Miss White's vague hinting at Marcel Denier's tendency to cheat on his wife. He really had to speak with Pauline Denier he had just decided, when Miss Fisher had wandered through the door. It was astounding that she never seemed to look out of place. Jack rubbed his temples in a vain effort to concentrate.

"Or Dot rather." He heard her babble on conversationally while she slipping onto the edge of the dining table. Miss Williams stood in the door behind her, a slight blush creeping over her pretty features.

Carefully the lady detective set down a small white statue of quite female appearance, she had been cradling in her arms. The Inspector had a closer look.

"Is this what I think it is?"

"If you consider this to be the murder weapon, I believe you might be on the right track."

Warily Robinson inspected the faint trail of blood smudged over the marble, shaping a body part he rather hadn't described.

"Where did you find this?"

"In Marcel's sitting room. Oh don't look at me like that, Jack, you knew I was going to go there." She leaned over, her eyes sparkling. "I think we have found your crime scene and it's all yours. Completely undamaged."

That was certainly some improvement. And the eagerness in her features had the usual effect on him. Jack had to fight back a smile as he got up.

„Well, Miss Fisher, we better had a look then before someone gets around to the disturbing."

Nobody seemed currently in the mood to interfere with the deceased's rooms. The Demier Estate lay in surprising silence for all the turmoil of the morning. The rain outside had turned into a lazy, grey drizzle, content to make anyone miserable who decided to step out their front door. Like the guests, who had finally been released for their homes and currently shuffled to their respective vehicles.

Jack pushed the dark oak door open with the elan of someone who ought to be there. He had learned a long time ago, that that was the only way to walk into a room, someone could deny you entry to. His dark eyes took a quick sweep over the furniture. There was probably no point in even being here, Miss Fisher and company would have looked rather closely. But nevertheless he took in the way the deceased had lived and all that occurred to him as strange. It wasn't much.

"I believe, something is missing over here, Jack." She pointed out. He nodded, inspecting the fireplace.

"But then again, someone could have just moved it. Nothing here points to a struggle."

Phryne found herself to be worried. Jack was all business as usual in the middle of a case, but something struck her as off. He looked tired and there was an expression around his eyes, that troubled her. Awaking from her thoughts, she realised that he had crouched down onto the red Persian stretching between the fireplace and the love seat.

"Besides maybe this bloodstain here. You were right, Phryne. Marcel Denier likely has died here."

Miss Fisher had already knelt down beside her partner, inspecting the blotch of brown on the dark red ground.

"So, someone hit him over the head and then dumped his body into the lake. Stripping him first?"

DI Robinson sighed.

"That doesn't make much sense."

"Unless someone is into moonlight skinny dipping."

The detectives eyes shot up, locking onto Phryne's. She smiled innocently. Before he could open his mouth to inquire about her knowledge regarding the subject, there was a sharp rapping at the door that was a split second later ripped open by a breathless Hugh Collins.

"Sir, you have to come. Mrs. Denier was robbed."