Chapter 17: Stormy Sea

To the Inspectors surprise he wasn't confronted with Simon Ellis when knocking at the Deniers door. Instead the blonde Elisabeth tried herself on a shy smile.

"We would like to speak Mrs. Denier, please."

"I'm not sure if she's in, Sir. I will need to check with the butler."

Jack decided to not take any chances for a disappearing act of Pauline Denier and barged past the maid with a friendly but firm excuse on his lips, followed by an equally eager Constable Collins.

When he pushed open the door to Mrs. Deniers rooms a confused looking Simon Ellis spun around.

"Sorry Sir." He panted, setting a Whiskey glass back onto the table. "You gave me a fright."

Jack Robinson had seen many suspicious people in his career and the butler had "guilty" written in block letter across his forehead. It enforced the thought that he had been his employers accomplice in the murder of her husband.

"Where is Mrs. Denier, Mr. Ellis?" He asked without a greeting.

"She is riding out, Sir. Should be back soon."

Jacks look dropped to the glass on the table, unmistakable marks of lipstick on the rim.

"I don't believe you." He spat. "Where is she?"

On Simon Ellis forehead drops of sweat started to form. The Inspector became aware of Collins nudging him in an effort to catch his attention. The Constable pointed at the feet of the butler that were dripping onto the floor, his pants drenched up to the knee in water. The detectives mouth fell open as his look swept back to the glass. Before any of the men could react, he had thrust his pistol at the Constable and stormed out the door.

X

Phryne Fisher awoke at the bottom of the lake. She blinked lazily into the light filtering through the water, dipping everything into a magical aquamarine. Her stabbing lungs insisted that she needed to stop thinking and swim up if she wanted to live, but her arms felt like lead. She was so, so tired. Miss Fisher closed her eyes again and gave herself to the soft waves that gently rocked her back to sleep.

X

Jack Robinson ran for his life. Quite literally, as he wasn't sure how he could go on if he came too late. A thousand thoughts were spinning through his mind as he stormed down the stairs, falling over his own feet and landing, swearing, on the hard stone floor. He paid no mind to his bleeding knee or his throbbing wrist, scrambled back to his feet and kept running. Not a single thought got any attention from him but one: Phryne. His lungs stabbed in protest over the mistreatment, as he reached the lake. His eyes dashed over the quiet water. Where should he start searching, this bloody thing was huge? His feet started running again, nothing was as bad as stopping. It occurred to him briefly that he should have asked Ellis. Beaten it out of him with his fists, if he had to. But it was too late now. He was here and all he had were his feet running as fast as they could and the hope that somehow he could sense where she was. A little white dot in the distance caught his eye; Jack flew along the water, stumbled over a bundle of reeds, inconveniently growing in his path. He got back to his feet without even stopping in his movement. His eyes focused on the white hat bobbing on the waves. Jack sent a prayer of thanks to a god he didn't really believe in anymore and stormed into the water. In seconds his coat was soaked and he had to peel it off while he waded deeper, reached the hat. He dove underneath, appeared again seconds later spluttering water, but not giving up, not giving in. She had to be here! Just when he thought he would drown himself his arm bumped against something soft. He gripped, grabbed her with all the strength he had left and dragged her to the surface. Miss Fisher's face was even paler than usual, her lips already blue. He resisted the urge to shake her, fighting instead the water and the weight of both their soaked clothes to drag her to the shore. When his feet had proper grip again, he ripped her up into his arms and carried her. Phryne Fisher felt strangely light even though there was water pouring from her coat. Like the life draining from her had taken her weight with it. Jack lay her body down on the grass, now finally giving into his want to shake her awake. He realised numbly that he had been yelling her name for the most of the last, breathless minutes. His fingers stroked her wet hair, slapped her pale cheeks, trying desperately to somehow get life back into her unmoving frame. The time stretched endlessly under the azure sky as Jack Robinson begged for his lovers life. And then, to his infinite relief she opened her blue eyes and spat a gust of water over his caring hands.

Coughing and spluttering Phryne Fisher returned to the land of the living. She was cold and shaking and still exhausted, but there was a pair of grey eyes hovering over her that dropped warm, salty tears onto her face and two hands that didn't seem to be able to stop touching her. It was actually quite close to heaven, she found herself thinking. Jack didn't notice he was crying till a warm drop spilled onto the back of his hand. He felt the weight of the world fall from his shoulders, suddenly considering himself the biggest fool under the sun for having wasted what could have been their last night together. He wrapped his arms around the shivering Phryne and held her tightly to himself till they both had found their breath again.

X

The rest of the day had gone by in a blur. Jack remembered dimly to have escorted, half carrying, half walking, Miss Fisher back to the Estate, where police had been just arriving. Pauline Denier had returned little later; she had indeed taken the short route through the forrest and was devastated when she'd found her Butler arrested and her friend drugged and half-drowned by his hands. She had offered her help, her hospitality and about everything else she could think of which they had all politely but firmly denied, save for a change of dry clothes and a ride home.

Jack Robinson had decided that it was safer to stay away from Simon Ellis as far as possible at this stage and time, but had dropped by the Station nevertheless to hear how they had been going with his interrogation. He hadn't stuck around to fill any paperwork. That had time till tomorrow. Instead he now sat on Phryne Fishers bed, watching her in her sleep.

"She will wake up soon, it's just sleeping pills. He couldn't have taken too many or she would have tasted them." Stated Mac quietly from the window.

"Thank you, doctor." The Inspector said, tearing his eyes away. Elisabeth nodded at him silently. Then she pushed herself upright and grabbed her bag. When the door fell shut behind her, Phryne opened her eyes.

"Thank god, I thought she would never leave."

He couldn't help but smile at this.

"And there I always thought, you enjoyed Dr. Macmillans company."

She pulled herself up onto an elbow and smiled back.

"I do. But right now I don't need anyone to tell me how stupid I was." With another look at him she added: "So don't you start, Inspector."

Jack decided that he could tell her how stupid she had been at another point in time. Silently he reached out his hand and cupped her cheek, locking eyes with her and gently running his thumb over her lips. He was still thanking god that he had gotten to her just in time.

"I'm just glad you're still here." He heard himself say aloud. Her eyes softened at this.

"So am I." Phryne took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm. "Thank you."

The Inspector noticed that tears were pushing back into his eyes and chose to change the subject.

„Simon Ellis has confessed to everything, you will like to hear. He found his master that night without concience on the carpet and thought it to be his one chance to rid his wife of him. It seems he is rather attached to Pauline Denier. However, your friend is in the clear, she had not known what happened to her husband. She did toy with the idea of divorce, but that is not exactly a crime. "

Phryne nodded at this and fished for her tea cup that had been left on the nightstand by Dot's loving hands. It was only lukewarm at this stage, but it tasted heavenly. She became aware of the Inspector intensely watching her.

"How did you know? That it was Ellis?"

Miss Fisher set the cup down.

"A photograph brought back a memory. He was Marcel's best friend back in the day. I didn't recognise him after all those years, he was still going by the name Sid then and was all over quite different."

Jack nodded.

"And he knew of your... flirtation with his best friend?"

"I assume so. He was always remarkably fond of Pauline. I remember thinking that he would have preferred to marry her himself. But he showed a happy face at their wedding nevertheless and then he obviously became their butler later on. I would assume to keep an eye on Pauline."

Jack chewed on his lip, when Phryne continued.

"What a terrible fate to be near the woman you're in love with only for her to be treated this badly, while she is out of reach for yourself."

She snapped back into the present to notice the Detective kneading his hands and lay her own fingers on them soothingly.

"Then again, sometimes she is not as unreachable after all." She said, barely more than a whisper.

The Inspector cleared his throat and straightened his shoulders.

"I believe whatever Mr. Ellis has witnessed that night on the terrace pushed him over the edge. And then, when the chance presented itself, he couldn't resist."

Phryne pondered this for a while, her eyes glued to the sheets.

"I wonder how he was intending to get away with murdering me, though."

Jack's breath hitched in his chest at those words being uttered. The fear for her still stuck in his bones. Even though she had gotten herself into danger so often in the past, the terror at the prospect of losing her seemed to never fade.

"I don't think he was hoping to." He finally answered her question. "I rather believe it was a sort of suicide mission to rid his beloved mistress of all betrayal. Once he had killed, he knew there was no way back. And he also realised that he could never be with her."

"The day he became her butler, he chose to be invisible." Miss Fisher said quietly, pondering the unfairness of this. A sudden smile snuck around her lips.

"You know Jack, I've seen an article last year in an American magazine. It featured the rules on writing a detective story and stated quite clearly that one should never, ever make the murderer a butler."

Jack Robinson couldn't help but grin, when he stated dryly:

"It appears, Miss Fisher, that Simon Ellis has not read that article."