Chapter 15: Half Moon

The clinking of two crystal glasses echoed of the aquamarine walls, only lit by the fire.

„They make a lovely couple, your friends." Jack teased, before taking a sip of his drink.

„Acquaintances, Jack, and I rather think the contact will dwindle at this stage."

Phryne smiled and took a gulp, looking at him over the edge of her glass. Jack leaned back into the soft cushions and wished quietly he could stay the night.

„I talked to the Sinclairs this afternoon." He said, after a moment of comfortable silence. „Annabel insists, it has only happened the once and stupidly at David Prices house, during a night of board games and rather senseless drinking. Brad Sinclair knew about the indiscretion of his wife; our friend was attempting to blackmail him as well. Unluckily for him, Sinclair's business is quite slow, much like his blackmailer's has been of late. So, he was showing off an empty hand of cards Thursday night as I suspected."

The Inspector drained his glass, feeling like a rather content tom-cat. This moment, sitting with Miss Fisher and quietly chewing over murder suspects with a whisky in his hand could have been almost perfect. If there hadn't been the empty bed waiting for him at home. He sighed. Phryne swirled the amber liquid in her glass thoughtfully.

"Could you imagine he would have harmed Marcel? Out of jealousy or maybe believing him to be the blackmailer?"

Robinson pondered this for a moment, then he shook his head.

"I don't think he cares enough for his wife to kill. And he suspected the blackmailer to be Price it seems. So nobody is really presenting themselves as a main suspect right now. I am quite certain, that it couldn't have been Marie White. She doesn't have the strength to drag a grown man to the lake."

"Unless she had help." Phryne mused quietly.

"You are thinking Ryan Binley?"

Both stayed silent for some time.

"I don't want the kid to be involved." Miss Fisher admitted. "But justice is not about what we want."

The detective nodded.

"But if Ryan was still in the room at the time Miss White bashed Denier over the head with the statue, I would assume they would have tried to rid themselves of the corpse quickly before anyone would have noticed. Down the back stairs, through the park, that would only have taken minutes for two people. But there must have been a lot of blood that clotted to Deniers hair, enough for there to still be residue the next morning after hours in water. And there was none on his shirt, which surely couldn't have been accomplished moving him either."

"So, he was lying on the carpet some time." Phryne concluded, barely hiding a smile. "Allowing enough time for the blood to dry and sink into the carpet."

"I believe so, Miss Fisher. Which leads to the conclusion that it was a third person who found the victim and took the opportunity."

The detectives sat in companionable silence. The flames threw moving shadows over the floor near Phryne's feet. She pulled her legs up onto the chair and looked at Jack, who was sitting quietly in the next seat over, appearing relaxed and really like he had always been there. Something about the way his dark eyes returned her gaze let her heart quicken.

"You never actually told me the details of what happened that night after I left, Miss Fisher." He said in a voice that made her toes tingle.

"I believe we happened to slip of the subject the other day, Inspector." She parried, rejoicing in the slight blush creeping over his cheeks. He cleared his throat.

"Maybe now would be a good time to return to it then."

Phryne cocked her head, wondering if she was treading on dangerous grounds, yet again.

"Is that the jealous lover or the Inspector asking, Jack?"

He gave her a small smile.

"Both, Miss Fisher."

With some effort, Phryne tore her eyes from him and stared at her walls unseeingly, trying to remember all the little details she'd rather forgotten.

"I danced with the Captain, then Steven O'Rylley, then I believe David. He seemed rather grumpy. Brad Sinclair was arguing with his wife about her getting too drunk, when I took a break for some refreshments, she stormed away. I guess to pout somewhere. I remember thinking that Pauline was looking at me awkwardly, with a strange little smirk, but didn't put too much weight on that. Marcel was having quite some fun with Marie by the look of it, but I believe she'd gotten nervous about Price's mood and took a break from dancing with him, which was when he latched onto me."

The Detective had leaned forward in his chair, giving his full attention to his lovers memories. He tried to battle back the tiny needles of jealousy and think like a policeman.

"He was already three sheets to the wind." Miss Fisher continued. "Pulled me a little closer to himself than was comfortable; but that was Marcel for you. We shared two dances then I chose to have another break. He followed me out onto the terrace, started gabbling something about the full moon. He was too intoxicated to notice that it was only a half."

The Inspector couldn't keep a tiny smile from ghosting over his lips that disappeared instantly on the next sentence.

"Then he tried to kiss me. I pushed him away. He slurred something about how I he had never forgotten me and if I couldn't remember. I believe there was some insults about Pauline meddled in there too. It was all quite disgusting."

Jack felt himself digging his fingers into the amber cushions of his seat. With some effort he released them and took a deep breath. Policeman! He needed to remember that.

"He tried it again and that was when I kicked him against the shin."

Phryne looked up at her lover, recognising the stormy clouds in his grey eyes. She curled her red lips into a smile in an attempt to defuse his anger.

"Quite effective those heels, I can tell you, Jack."

"What happened next?" He asked with the breathlessness of someone who had forgotten the need for air a moment too long.

"Denier was holding his leg. I seem to remember him also yelling some obscenities while hopping around, that I will not repeat. It was quite amusing. I tend to think, his servants were enjoying the view too."

Jack's attention spiked at that.

"There were other people on the terrace?"

"Yes, Ellis was out there and some maids, cleaning empty glasses away. So I was quite happy to leave Marcel behind with his battle injuries. Little later he was back on the dance floor with Marie and I remember seing them last around midnight, after most of the guest had left for home."

"If Simon Ellis was there, why didn't he stop his employer when he tried to force himself on you?"

Phryne smirked at this.

"Because he's been with the Deniers for years, Jack. He's a loyal servant and he's making sure to stay out of things that aren't his business. Plus, he is aware that I can fend for myself."

That wasn't good enough for Jack. The idea that Phryne had been in danger and people had just watched on, let his stomach clench. Miss Fisher read his thoughts.

"I'm sure he would have pushed in, if anything worse would have happened, Jack. And I do think Marcel was already too far gone to really try anything much."

Jack Robinson unclenched his fists in an effort to return to his former relaxed self. But the thought that he himself should have been there to protect Phryne Fisher was echoing violently through his thoughts. How could he ever know her to be safe if even a birthday party turned out to be this dangerous? And another realisation hit the Inspector in the gut: He was ashamed for his jealousy.

"Jack?"

Phryne was crouching beside his chair, looking up at him with big, worried eyes, a hand lying on his sleeve in a soothing gesture. He had come home intent to punish her for her infidelity, wanting to share the pain with her, knowing nothing about what had happened. And then... He suddenly felt nauseous as the rest of the night played out in front of his eyes. The Inspector all but jumped out of his chair, brushing her fingers off himself.

"I better go." He stammered, leaving before he would empty the contents of his stomach onto her carpet.

When Mr. Butler came a few minutes later to look if his Mistress had any needs before he turned in, he found her sitting in her chair, looking lost.

"Miss Fisher? Are you alright?"

She gazed up at the sound of his voice, giving him a smile that was betrayed by the tears glittering in her eyes.

"I don't know."

She wasn't.