My special thanks go tonight to the kid who came up with the chapter title. Thank you. Also, the new story is in the first stage of plotting, but still happily accepting any ideas or thought you might have.

Chapter 32: Aurora

Edward Wenbrock approached his cottage with a burden of guilt on his heart. He shouldn't let Phryne and Jack down, his twisting stomach told him. But he also had a responsibility to his family. His mother's eyesight had worsened over the last few months and his daughter had always been a rather difficult child. To his utter worry, there was still a light burning in the kitchen and he dreaded the pending argument with the old woman, by this time probably sick of worry and angry for having been left alone with an inconsolable toddler all night.

When he stepped lightly, quietly into the kitchen, the sight that met him caused his heart to skip a beat. There, at the kitchen table sat a woman, but not the one he had expected. Ash blonde hair fell in cascades onto the table, the sleeping face turned away from him. But he didn't have to see it. He knew who she was and he wasn't quite certain if he was dreaming or waking. Carefully, silently wandering around the table, he inspected her features nevertheless. Natalija was far off, her cheek pressed onto the book she had been reading. A thin thread of spit had dribbled from the corner of her mouth. By right he should have been disgusted – he wasn't certain if he had ever seen anything more heart warming.

Eddie sat down, wondering about his next step. Should he wake her? Let her sleep? He knew what he wanted to do, but that was certainly not an option. He could feel his heart pounding against his ribcage as he watched her. As if she had felt his stare, she slowly opened her eyes. Looked at him. Smiled.

Then her expression changed, as she sat up in utter astonishment. She glanced down at the book, then back at him.

"Dear God, what time is it?"

"'Bout 4 o'clock," Eddie stated mechanically, without tearing his eyes from her. He wasn't sure if she was more shocked than him or less. Natalija rubbed her eyes.

"I must have fall'n asleep. Your mother ask'd me to come over. Daisy just wouldn't stop cryin'."

Eddie nodded, unable to not notice the sleepy quality of her voice that caused his heart to ache with longing.

"Where were you?" she suddenly asked. He snapped out of his nightly daydream, to the bitter reality. He had almost forgotten about his friends in mortal danger. Guilt re-announced itself as he rubbed his tired face with both palms.

"That's a long story."

There was silence. To his disappointment, Natalija got to her feet. She looked defeated.

"Right you are. None of my business."

She turned, ready to leave, when Eddie jumped up so fast that his chair tumbled. The sound of wood hitting the floor was incredibly loud in the small kitchen. Both stared at each other, then the bedroom door to see if they had woken the girl. But nothing happened. After a moment of silence, Natalija nodded, laying her hand onto the doorknob.

"Wait... please."

Eddie gulped. He didn't really know how to explain it. "Jack and... his wife. Look, it's a really long story, but Little Jacob's holding them hostage."

There were wheels spinning visibly in Natalija's head. She tried to say something, then changed her mind. Finally she tried again.

"What are ya talking about?"

"Look, they're detectives. You remember those two people that were fighting the Brownings last year? We talked 'bout them, back then. I told ya that I knew the girl when she was a kid?"

Natalija nodded slowly.

"Well they were them."

When Eddie still didn't receive the reaction he was hoping for, he tried again.

"I recognised her when I first met 'Fanny Turner', straight away."

"So you knew Fanny Turner?" Natalija asked.

"Phryne Fisher," he corrected.

"Ya didn't say a word," she pointed out, her voice coloured with bitterness. Eddie felt like he was losing ground.

"I couldn't. Didn't want to get them into trouble. Thing is, they managed it themselves. Lil Jacob has promised to kill them."

To his relieve, Natalija forgot about being offended by his silence in favour of worry.

"He can't!"

"He will," Eddie said bitterly. "Ya know what they whisper 'bout him. He's insane. And I've read the ransom note. He'll shoot them by sunrise, if they don't release his sister from gaol and the Commissioner doesn't even think about that."

Thunderclouds appeared on Natalija's face but the outburst Edward expected, didn't happen. Instead she turned back to the door.

"So, why are we still here, chattering? We need to go search for them!"

Wenbrock caught her arm, spinning her.

"Let go, Eddie! They're our friends," she protested angrily, trying to ignore that his brown eyes were closer than they had ever been before. Natalija glittered at her old friend, waiting for a chance to defy him. But Eddie just looked at her searchingly, questioningly.

"I need to know," he finally mumbled. "Do ya love 'im?"

Natalija's expression changed.

"Whom?"

"Jack! Do you love him?"

She ripped herself away from his grip.

"Oh, don't be so daft, Eddie!"

He shook his head. Slowly.

"I just need to know if I'm goin' out there to save the man ya love, Nat. Cause then I'll do anything to save him... even if it'd break my heart."

The last words had been hardly audible, but neither of the two people in the small kitchen were able to pretend they hadn't been spoken. The young woman stared at her friend in silence, then she lifted her hand and touched his tired face. Eddie felt the urge to retreat. He didn't want her comfort, only the truth. Jack Robinson might be married, but he obviously cared for Natalija – maybe enough for a young woman to misunderstand.

The urge to disappear and drown his embarrassment somewhere in cheap liquor became more overwhelming in Eddie with every second Natalija looked up at him, reading his face like a book. But instead, he just stared, unblinking, stubborn and defiant.

"I've seen ya two behind that church. It was impos-"

The sentence found an untimely end in a pair of lips closing his mouth. It was stupid to do this, Eddie told himself sternly, nothing had changed. They needed to stop, right this minute. Yet, his arms had different plans as they wrapped around her slim frame, his eyes fluttering shut in surrender. 'We'll figure somethin' out,' a clear voice pointed out. He was tempted to believe it.

Then all coherent thought drowned in the sensation of holding her close. It seemed like hours had passed when they separated, barely.

"That enough answer for ya?" Natalija asked.

Eddie gulped, gently retreating from her grasp. There were more questions on his mind than ever before, but right now, none of them mattered much in light of the fact that their friends were to die. And that he had just found out something so mind blowing that his body was tingling from head to toe. He nodded.

"Plenty of answer," he croaked, when she didn't seem satisfied.

"Right, then we go now and find the Turners!"

"Robinsons," he corrected weakly.

"Doesn't matter," Natalija said, slipping into her coat.

And really, it didn't matter at all.

X

Jack was panting heavily by the time he reached the top of the stairs. Climbing them had been quite a risk. The narrow steps spiralling up into the floors above, was surrounded by strong walls on both sides. Had one of Rose's men decided to come in the opposite direction, a confrontation would have been unavoidable. And Jack wasn't sure if he could currently survive fighting a man. He was quite certain that his fever had worsened over the last hour stumbling through the dark, probably owned to the chilly, damp quality of the basement he had now finally escaped.

But there was still no trace of his wife and that was what convinced him to push forward. Maybe he shouldn't have left the basement behind, Jack wondered dimly in his cotton wool-stuffed head and instead kept searching for her. But logic commanded that Phryne would, just like him, search for an exit and that was likelier found upstairs. So, when he had stumbled across the steep servant stairs, he hadn't hesitated, even though climbing them had been a bigger feat than his exhausted body had taken kindly to.

Now stumbling down another narrow corridor, his hand found a door handle. It lead the Inspector into an empty room, smelling faintly of dust.

A big, honey coloured moon looked back at the Inspector through a small window. Jack dropped heavily onto the edge of one of the two beds lining the walls. Seeing the sky seemed currently like an amazing feat after the long time between brick and mould.

The disturbed dust invaded Jack's lungs, causing him to cough. His throat felt raw. The bed, dusty and narrow as it may be, was luring the Inspector into it's comfortable layers. Just lay his burning head onto a cool pillow, close his eyes for a few minutes, rest. Surely he would be in a better state if he could just stop for a little while. The last time he'd slept seemed an eternity away. Nobody would look for him here and even if they found him, what did it matter?

But Phryne! She was still out there. There was no rest until she was safely in Mac's hands. Jack pushed himself onto his wobbly legs and made his way back out into the hallway, throwing a last longing glance at the moon that was looking after him with a kind, pale smile.

X

Mac was crouching on the bedroom floor between the shards of broken glass. Mr. Butler pressed his lips together, as he was holding the lamp for her. He couldn't remember ever having seen Doctor MacMillan lose her state of total control. Right now, she appeared to be on the verge of bursting into tears at any given moment. Then the emotions on her face disappeared as quickly as they had come.

"It looks like there has been a struggle," she concluded, pushing back to her feet and letting her eyes sweep over the messy bedroom, the tangled sheets and a tipped over chair that had fallen victim to Phryne's brief spell of rage at the recklessness of her husband.

"It certainly does, Doctor," Mr. Butler agreed, still staring at the leftovers of a broken lamp strewn across the small bedroom floor. "But then Mr. Wenbrock said that Mrs. Robinson left to search for her husband."

Mac turned, looking pale and worn.

"Maybe he was wrong and they returned here. Jack might have been sharing a harmless drink with his co-workers after all."

"With all due respect, Doctor. How did their kidnappers get a hold of the other man, if that was the case?"

The knock at the door was loud and shook not only the two people in the bedroom from their conversation but also the four currently sifting through the equally messy kitchen. Finally, Bert went and ripped open the door. The woman standing on the porch smiled.

"Have you found anythin'?" she asked, without introducing herself and pushed past him into the kitchen. The man behind her greeted Bert by a tip to the hat, the Cabbie grunting in response.

"This is Miss Natalija Nowak. A friend of Jack and Phryne's. She was taking care of my child, while I was out," Eddie explained, the faint blush spreading over his cheeks not going amiss on the people collected in the room. Despite the grim situation, Jane smiled.

"A friend, ey? Known them long then?" Bert grumbled, closing the door that was letting in the chill of the early morning.

"They saved my life," Natalija answered calmly. "I would say that qualifies as a friendly gesture."

"It certainly does, Miss," Mr. Butler smiled. "Would you happen to be able to provide any information on their disappearance?"

To their disappointment, Natalija shook her head.

"Afraid not. But we do know who Jack was drinkin' with, so I thought we'd go and knock them out of their beds and ask if any of them has seen or heard somethin'."

There was silence for a long moment, while they contemplated this. Cromms was still held by the police in the hope that he could provide them with something. But there could be someone else who had witnessed what had happened.

"We are running out of time," Dot said after a pause. "We might as well try anything we can."

There was murmuring, but nobody had a better idea.

"Let's go then," Jane urged, when nobody moved. Just as they stepped out into the dark street, a figure rushed towards them, holding an oil lamp in front of her dressing gown. Her hair wrapped up onto curlers, Adelheid Willis made for a strange ghost.

"What's going on?" she demanded to know. "Who are you people?" She finally found a face she recognised amidst the strangers. "Nat, where are the Turners? I said to Terry that things aren't right, but he just turned and went back to sleep. Terrible neighbour he is. What's going on?"

Natalija looked at Eddie, who shrugged.

"The Turners have been kidnapped, Adelheid. By Little Jacob's men it seems."

For the first time in their long acquaintance, Mrs. Willis seemed speechless, her pretty mouth standing wide open, as she looked from one of the grim faces to the next.

"But... how. Why? I mean, they are nice people, the Turners. Haven't been here long. I couldn't think what grudge he could have against them-"

"It seems," Eddie cut in, before she could go on any further, "that Jack Robinson is a police officer who was investigating the Grog Business together with his Detective wife. I wouldn't be surprised if the police wants to have a word with yer husband, Adelheid."

Mrs. Willis just stared at him in a spell of fascinated silence.

"Do ya know anything that can help us find them?" Natalija asked more sharply than the stunned woman deserved.

"Jack Robinson?" she finally asked faintly. "Jack Robinson, the policeman?"

She raised a slim hand to her mouth, but nobody was paying much attention to her as a black car sped down the street, halting at the next door. Out jumped a handful of officers in dark uniforms, loudly beating at the door to the Carter-Cottage. An angry Maggy appeared a moment later.

"Would you mind? My children are asleep!" she hissed.

"I'm sorry ma'am, but we will have to take you to the station."

"I already told you that my husband did not come home from work tonight."

"We will convince ourselves of this, Ma'am," the young man in uniform said, pushing past the protesting woman. A small child ran towards them in her nightdress, flinging herself on her mother.

"It's alright, love. The men are just looking for your father," Margaret Carter explained to her daughter, while shooting an icy glance at one of the policemen.

"Would you mind explaining just what you are doing?" a voice behind the young man said, causing him to flinch. He turned, staring at an angry Dot.

"Mrs. Collins?!" the officer stuttered.

"There are small children in this house. Surely there is no need to scare them, Constable Brink!"

The man dropped his head as if he had been scolded by his mother.

"We are looking for the Robinsons," he finally explained. "The Commissioner believes that Mrs. Carter might have more information than she has shared earlier."

"That is all very well, but there is a way to do things. Terrorising a family is not part of an investigation," Dot insisted. "Now, I will bring the children back to bed and you can talk to Mrs. Carter. In her kitchen will be sufficient, I am sure!"

With that, she took the girl's hand and lead her into the house. Two stunned police officers followed.

Outside, the collected people looked at each other.

"Poor Mags, I better go look after her. And the girls. Dear God," mumbled Adelheid, still in obvious shock that didn't hinder her curiosity in the slightest and wandered off in the direction of the neighbouring cottage.

"I believe, Dorothy has decided to stay behind," Mr. Butler said into the resulting silence. "We had better go question the Inspector's co-workers."

"I don't think that will be necessary," a voice stated behind him. Mac had, unnoticed by the others, slipped over to chatwith one of the police officers. "The man they found has given Sanderson a list of everybody he remembers to have been at the pub last night and there is officers currently drumming every one of them out of bed."

She gave the collected people a brief recount of the rest of what Oliver Cromms had told the police.

"Carter must have drugged Jack's beer, which is why he had such an easy time to knock him out in the end. Cromms put up a bit more of a struggle, but they were two against one. He doesn't remember much between then and Gabler's basement," she finished. "But there was no Jack. They must have brought him and Phryne somewhere else entirely."

"It almost appears as if Mr. Cromms was always intended for the Commissioner to find," Mr. Butler thought aloud.

"So Rose took him only to deliver the message?" Jane asked.

"Explains why he tied him up like a package," Bert grumbled. "Now, where are we goin'?"

"Wherever it is, we'd better hurry," Natalija cut in for the first time. Unnoticed by the rest, Eddie took her hand and squeezed it gently. He had seen it too. There was a faint hint of light at the horizon. The morning was coming.