Chapter Thirteen
A stakeout on his own, and one in Phryne's company were two very different propositions. They found a doorway of a disused shop across the road and a little further down from the warehouse. Phryne stood with her back to the door; Jack faced her, and was able to watch the door of the warehouse reflected in the glass of the entranceway. And obviously, because they needed cover, they kissed. Often. Lightly. Jack always kept one eye on the reflected doorway, but Phryne was free to entertain herself.
"If I'd known a stakeout was this much fun, I'd have signed on as a Special years ago" she chuckled in a whisper. Her fingers were currently working their way between Jack's shirt buttons – he periodically slapped them away, but she was, as ever, persistent. When Jack straightened up and hissed through his teeth, though, she stopped immediately. His eyes were following a very tall man who had come out of the warehouse and was walking towards them. In earnest, this time, she put her arms round his neck and pulled his face towards her, the brim of his hat completely shielding his face from the street. How long ago it seemed since their first kiss had offered similar protection. The heavy footsteps passed them without pause, and Jack risked a peek after McCullum a few seconds later.
The man folded himself into a nippy roadster parked at the side of the road, gunned the engine and roared off, turning right at the junction up ahead. Grabbing Phryne's hand, Jack sprinted for the motorbike and the pair of them were in pursuit within seconds, Phryne sticking like a limpet to Jack's lean frame as he swung through the series of turns.
"He's heading for the City", she yelled in his ear. "I think we're in luck." He nodded, and eased back to keep the car in more distant sight. Now that he knew what to look for, they stood a good chance of being able to find the car even if they lost it in the pursuit.
He needn't have worried. The car pulled up outside one of the many imposing porticos in the City of London, and McCullum marched confidently in. Jack pulled up a few yards away, and helped Phryne hop off the bike.
"You're on. When you're finished, I'll be waiting over by that cab rank" he muttered. Taking her chin in his gloved fingers, he gave her a hard kiss. "I suppose it's useless to tell you not to take any unnecessary risks?"
"Oh, Jack, you should know I only ever take risks that are absolutely essential" she smiled cheerfully. Ignoring his growl, she strode up the steps of the bank. Shaking his head, he wheeled the bike across to the taxi rank and settled in to wait.
Hovering by the door, affecting interest in a list of market prices, she soon saw McCullum. Away from the main line of tellers was a solitary desk, in front of which he sat facing a bespectacled clerk. The man was busy with a loose-leaved booklet, into which he had inserted a sheet of carbon paper. In low tones, he consulted with his customer and completed details on the form in front of him. Eventually, the transaction was completed. The clerk tore off the top copy of the document, and handed it to McCullum; the two men stood, shook hands and McCullum walked away, passing Phryne with barely a glance in her direction.
She promptly took the seat he had vacated in front of the bespectacled clerk. He raised his head enquiringly, and was treated to Phryne's best, one-hundred-watt smile.
He blinked.
"Can I … er … can I help you … er …. Miss?"
"Oh, I DO hope so!" she gushed, reaching a gloved hand across the table as though to take his hand. He glanced down at it, and nervously fiddled with his fountain pen. "I'm absolutely at my wits' end"
"You see, I need to send funds to my poor, elderly aunt, and I've not the slightest idea how to go about it. She's in Australia!" Phryne wailed. The young man quailed even more, but battled bravely on.
"That … that's quite possible, ma'am – are you aware of the telegraphic transfer system?"
"NO!" she exclaimed, "But it sounds absolutely darling! Can I really? I" – but then she broke off, and began coughing violently. Nonplussed for a moment, the man jumped to his feet.
"Some …er … water, miss?" he asked nervously. Still coughing, eyes watering, Phryne nodded vigorously. The young man hurried away to a back room.
As quick as a flash, and still coughing, Phryne glanced left and right before she snatched the booklet across the desk, tore off the last page and stuffed it into her pocket. By the time the young man returned, she was digging in her bag for a delicate lace handkerchief, and blowing her nose vigorously.
Thanking him effusively for his help, she sipped the water and listened with apparent interest as he described how to send money to the other side of the world.
"Can I do this now? That would be quite, quite marvellous!" she exclaimed. "You are most awfully clever." Her victim blushed to the roots of his hair.
"Well, as long as you have funds in your account here, miss …?" he ventured.
"Oh no! No, my account is at the other place – you know, round the corner. Hoare's." She smiled happily. "But now you've explained it all so beautifully, I shall go and do it straight away. And do you know, I think I might have to speak to them about moving my account here – it seems silly, doesn't it, that they couldn't have told me themselves about this clever telegraph thing?"
Chattering away, she gathered handkerchief and gloves, and favoured the clerk with one last, brilliant smile. "Thank you so very much. You're an absolute hero" she simpered, and scuttled out of the building.
Trusting that the man would be too befuddled to get straight on with his work, she glanced both ways and sprinted across the road to where Jack was already kickstarting the bike.
"I've got it. Let's get out of here before they realise!" She hopped nimbly on to the back and they raced off back to the west, and the haven of the Savoy.