Chapter Seven

While Jack returned to City South to try to track down the owner of the stiletto, Phryne headed home. An idea was forming in her mind and she was impatient to put it in to practice.

Marching in through the front door, she hung her hat on a peg and went straight to the telephone.

On connecting with the St Peter's Rectory, she was in luck.

"Miss Stubbs? Phryne Fisher. Glad I caught you. I was wondering if you might be able to pop over for a chat at some point today. Now? Well, yes, now would be perfect for me. Hop in a taxi, I'll pay for it." Ending the call, she wandered through to the kitchen.

"Hello, Mr B," she greeted him. "Prepare to receive a visitor – I am just about to be brilliant."

When the doorbell rang, Phryne opened it herself, and having paid off the cab, ushered Evangeline Stubbs into the parlour, where Mr Butler provided tea and some delicious slivers of lemon cake.

"Tell me, Miss Stubbs – do you like babies?"

After a short and highly satisfactory interview, Miss Stubbs was shown out, and Phryne went back to the phone.

"Dot? It's me. Are you going to be at home for a little while? Good, because I'm sending you a present that I think you might like. In fact, my intention is that you might like it for two or three hours every morning. You'll see what I mean when it gets to you. No, I'm not going to tell you any more, beyond saying that it's a bit of a gift for me too. I'll explain that part later." Humming 'Let's Misbehave' cheerfully to herself, she bade Mr Butler farewell and drove herself to City South.

Greeting Hugh Collins, she asked if The Inspector Was In, and being told he was, she sashayed into his office. Ignoring the guest chair, she hopped up onto the corner of his desk and crossed her legs. He watched appreciatively, and reflected that it was nice these days to be allowed to watch appreciatively instead of either watching nervously or pretending not to be watching at all. Was that a mark on her ankle? He stretched out a finger to check, because a mark on her immaculate stockings would be a terrible shame. It wasn't a mark, but she didn't appear to mind the attention, so he left his hand where it was.

"Detective Inspector, you may congratulate me," she announced proudly.

"I often do, Miss Fisher," he pointed out courteously. "Which particular aspect of your universal genius are we applauding today?

"I have achieved two things in one fell swoop. One is that Dorothy will get some regular respite from her howling babies, and the other is that she will, once duly rested, be able to assist us in the Ryan case."

Jack regarded her quizzically.

"Phryne, what have you done?"

She smirked.

"I've sent Evangeline Stubbs to work for her for a couple of hours every morning. I'm paying, obviously, because I want my assistant back as soon as possible. And whatever one might think of Miss Stubbs," she narrowed her eyes at him, and he promptly returned the favour, "she seems absolutely wild about babies, and very eager to contribute some funds to the family coffers."

Warming to her theme, she added, "I'm going to go and see Dot later on, and ask her to chat to Miss Stubbs about Father Ryan when she gets the chance. You know what Dot's like – simply brilliant at extracting information in the most unassuming way."

Jack had to admit it was clever.

"While we're on the subject," he replied, "I'm no closer to finding the owner of the stiletto, but we have got the next of kin for Father Ryan, and it's a cousin – who's living right here in Melbourne. In St Kilda, in fact." He tipped his head in invitation. "Want to come along?"

"I'll do better than that, I'll give you a lift," she said graciously, and led the way to the Hispano.