"The Inspector would like a word, Miss Blake," Elsie raised her eyebrows. "He was here when I arrived."
"Ah," Vivi nodded, "good morning, Inspector, would you like to come through?"
She didn't wait for an answer just preceded him into her office and sat at her desk.
"You interfered in an investigation, Miss Blake," he frowned.
"What investigation?"
"Ray Sands."
"There was no investigation, Inspector. He was in the wrong place at the wrong time."
"That is what we have to determine."
"But you had already charged him, he came to me to defend him in court. I needed all the evidence before I could go ahead. There was no evidence, Inspector Lawson had to send the constable who originally arrested Mr Sands and get him to go and interview other people who were in the shop. Ray Sands was innocent, the actual thief has been apprehended, cautioned and given several clips over the ear by his mother. Did you really want your constable in court with no evidence?"
"You are just like your brother …"
"I don't see that as a bad thing, Inspector." She smiled sweetly. "Now, I have a real criminal to prosecute; lots of evidence and a victim. I suggest you do your job properly then we won't have this conversation again. Good day to you." She opened the file Elsie had prepared for her and started to read. He didn't move.
"Sorry, Inspector, was there something else?"
"Stay out of my way, Miss Blake."
"It will be my pleasure."
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Vivi didn't give Munro another thought. She had much bigger things to occupy her mind. A young woman had been found beaten nearly to death down a small alley in Bendigo. She had been found by some young men strolling home from a friendly drink in a bar. They called for an ambulance and the police, left their names and contact details and left her to be looked after by the doctors.
She had no means of identification on her, but the beating had resulted in losing the child she carried; according to the doctors she was about four months into the pregnancy. She wore no wedding ring, carried no bag, her clothes were ripped – in fact they were surprised she had survived as long as she had.
But survive she did, enough to say who had beaten her, and where she worked.
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The factory made machine parts and was staffed largely by Eastern Europeans that had come to Australia for a better life. The factory overseer was a big burly man who routinely took the girls, the young and pretty ones, and raped them. He took part of their wages, called them 'Union Dues', but really he was just lining his own pockets, and threatened them with untold suffering if they said anything. He hadn't banked on any of the girls getting pregnant but this one did – Nadia – and she began to make demands.
Vivi looked over the medical report and felt saddened by it. She had multiple fractures and lesions which were tested and found to be the result of infection from the overseer – he was passing syphilis to all those he raped.
"Lucien," she spoke down the receiver, "syphilis?"
Lucien spat his tea across the desk in the study and coughed before he managed to speak.
"What? Vivi …!"
"Not me, you idiot," she huffed, "this case. Girl found beaten in Bendigo?"
"Ah, yes, so she has syphilis, does she?"
"Apparently, it is treatable, yes?"
"Yeah, if they've discovered it they can cure it, but there will be others. How did she get … no, hang on, I know how, but …"
"According to her statement the factory overseer was raping the young women and extracting money with menaces. She got pregnant and made demands. She lost the baby, doctors say she was lucky to survive."
"Any other women he's been with will have to be tested, and he will too."
"Right, not that he's admitting it, or anything."
"I don't expect the other women are going to come forward willingly."
"No, it's proving difficult to get anyone to come to court. We may have to subpoena them."
"Why don't you get the doctor to go into the factory to do health checks, any factory owner worth his salt would allow that. Even Patrick lets me check his workers – reluctantly I admit – but he does."
"Right, I'll do that," she put the phone down and laughed to herself at the reaction she got at the start of the call. She put in a call to the doctor in Bendigo and passed on Lucien's recommendation that he do a health check on the women in the factory, and perhaps the overseer.
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She packed to spend the week in Melbourne, where the case was to be tried. Lucien called to tell her she wasn't to touch either the overseer or the girl without wearing gloves.
"She's been given the antibiotic," Vivi took the gloves from him. Jean had found, somewhere, pretty lace gloves, one pair for each day, that she could pack up and bring back to be cleaned.
"Good, she'll be fine, though if she does go on to have children I would suggest a blood test first, just to check. The overseer?"
"Denies everything, of course, even having the disease. He refuses to be examined."
"It won't be a pleasant end, if he doesn't get treatment."
"Nothing I can do about that," she murmured, "I just want a conviction, Nadia suffered, the other girls have been checked and given the antibiotic if they needed it. The factory owner was worried people would think his product was infected and it would affect his sales."
"And how much did he know?"
"I think quite a lot," she frowned, "he's being called to testify."
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Vivi was quite gentle in her questioning of Nadia; asking her how she came to be working at the factory in Bendigo, where she lived, who she socialised with and then went neatly into the case before them – that of the rape and threats the overseer committed and her case in particular.
Nadia seemed to trust her and told her what had happened, the 'Union Dues' everyone had to pay, the unwanted attentions from the overseer and when asked why she didn't tell someone, like the factory owner, just said that he threatened her with violence, even death, and who would believe her, anyway?
Vivi didn't answer that, but she did.
The overseer's defence counsel went at Nadia like a terrier. He insinuated she flirted with him, threw herself at him.
"I did not!" she shrieked, "sorry, I didn't. I tried to avoid him."
"… and that it was you who gave him the disease."
"And I suppose I beat myself up, eh?" she huffed.
Vivi raised her hand to tell her to relax. She stood up, "objection, your honour."
"Sustained, try to keep to the point, counsel," the judge looked at her opponent.
"Er, yes," he cleared his throat, "now, after work, did you socialise?"
"Excuse me?"
"Go out together, have a drink after work?"
"Sometimes."
"And did any of you get close, to the men?"
"Not me," she shook her head.
"Not to Mr Becker, perhaps for preferential treatment?"
"No! Of course not!"
"And yet you were having his baby."
"Not my choice," she scowled, "he forced himself on me, and others, I didn't want to sleep with him."
"But you did."
"Look, he forced me to do it, if I didn't he'd take all of my wages." She began to cry.
"No more questions," he sat down.
Several other girls who had been persuaded to testify gave the same story as Nadia, though as none of them had got pregnant, through sheer luck, they hadn't suffered a beating like she did.
By the end of the day, all the girls had given their evidence and the judge sent everyone home, or to wherever they were staying. The girls had been given rooms at a Christian hostel where all their needs would be catered for. The overseer was kept in solitary confinement in Melbourne Gaol.
Vivi retired to her hotel, ordered room service rather than going down to the dining room, and put in a call to Bill.
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"Hey," he sat down to listen to her day, "how are you?"
"Ok, thanks, you?"
"Missing you already," he hummed.
"Yeah, busy day?"
"Nothing we couldn't handle. Easier without Munro – he's taken a week off."
"Oh? Well, I'm sure it's nothing you or Lawson can't handle."
"No, so, how was the first day?"
"All the girls were called, gave the same evidence and when prosecution tried to rattle Nadia she gave as good as she got. I think we'll get him."
"Good …"
They talked for a while longer then Bill said she should get some sleep.
"When you come back I thought I'd take a few days off, maybe we could see about organising our wedding …"
"… before Jean does it for us," she laughed. "That would be lovely."
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The following day, in court, Vivi couldn't believe she saw Munro sitting in the public gallery. As far as she knew he had no interest in the case, no connection. She quickly scanned through her papers and found no mention of his name. She would ignore him, for now, but maybe talk to Matthew later.
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The first person called to the stand that day was the factory owner. Vivi asked how he thought the overseer did his job, was he good at it?"
"Well," he hummed, "he seems to be."
"And this assaulting of the younger workers, the girls, what did you know about it?"
"Nothing, 'til the lass ended up in hospital. He said he knew nothing about it, or the baby."
"So, the day to day running of the factory is left up to him?"
"Yeah. As long as the parts are turned out for the orders, I leave him to it. I've been in this business since my father left it to me. He ran it during the war, supplying parts for the forces, y'know. He's a bit doddery now, not in his head, no, sharp as a tack, but not able to get round as tidily as he used to. He always had a manager, I just kept that part on. Becker, here, well he came highly recommended, from a factory in the city, Melbourne. That factory was running down, no market for its product so I took him on."
"I see," she hummed, " and there were no reports of inappropriate behaviour?"
"No."
"No more questions."
The overseer now had his chance to put his story before them. His counsel asked what his job was, in the factory, how he got on with the workers, how he got on with the owner.
He told them it was his job to ensure the workers did their jobs, completed the tasks on time and to the highest standard. He felt he got on fine with the workers and the owner seemed pleased with how he ran the shifts.
"Now, about these 'Union Dues'?"
"I don't know what you are talking about, sir," he frowned, "I don't take money, we don't have a union. The wages are paid by the office, I have nothing to do with that."
Vivi took over.
"So, you get on well with the workers?" she smiled sweetly.
"I suppose so."
"The girls?"
"What about them?"
"Do you like them?"
"They do their work."
"No, do you like them? Do you find them attractive?"
"Um, I suppose so." He began to fidget.
"You see, Mr Becker," she leant on her lectern, locking her gloved fingers together, "some of these girls have suggested you were a little too, shall we say, friendly?"
"How do you mean?"
"Well, that you, perhaps, got a little too close …"
"Only to see if they were doing their work properly."
"Ah, I see," she hummed, "and after work?"
"What do you mean?"
"A drink, maybe, socialising, perhaps."
He shrugged, "maybe."
"Mr Becker," she wandered round her lectern and closer to him. She could see he was nervous, sweating. She could see the rash on his hands, "I put it to you that you did more than socialise, you routinely abused, sexually abused, the girls in the factory, passed around a sexually transmitted disease …"
"You can't prove it!"
"… got Nadia pregnant and when she asked you for help you beat her half to death and left her down a dark, seldom traversed, alley."
"I didn't! he shouted, "you can't prove I gave her that sickness …"
"Everybody in the factory has been tested, all the girls that say you assaulted them, raped them, have signs of syphilis – they have been treated, your honour," she looked up at the judge, "those that you didn't touch, and the men, are all clear."
"Can't prove it was me," he stood up and glared down at her.
"But, Mr Becker," she took a deep breath and took one of his hands, "you refused to be tested and I am reliably informed that this rash is an indication of syphilis. Untreated it is quite nasty, eventually a rather horrible death …" she declined to go into details and let go of his hands. She took off her gloves and put on a clean pair. "Now, Mr Becker, shall we tell the truth?"
"They asked for it!" he blurted out, his counsel put his head in his hands, "with their tight blouses, and their tight skirts at night. They were just asking for it. Then when I offered it they changed their minds, well a fella's gotta have some relief, hasn't he? What's he supposed to do when she gets him in that state and then changes her mind?"
"I suggest you learn to control yourself," she sighed, "or find some woman who is actually willing and not just flirting. Why did you beat Nadia so much she lost the baby she was carrying, your baby?"
"Can't prove it was mine."
"True, we can't, and we can't prove it wasn't, we only have Nadia's word for it. Perhaps, if you do not want children, Mr Becker, you should think about using a condom; that way you won't risk getting a girl pregnant or catching a nasty disease and passing it on."
He glared at her. She hummed, "no more questions."
Defending counsel had nothing more to add, the damage had been done, Vivienne Blake had done what she so often did – flirted her prey into admitting the charge against them. They summed up for the jury who were sent out to deliberate their findings.
She watched him be taken back to the cells. His hands handcuffed in front of him could not hide the telltale loss of control at the front on his trousers.
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Munro left, determined never to be on the receiving end of Miss Blake's cross-examination, though he doubted he and his friends would ever be caught.
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Vivi made her phone call to Bill and ordered room service, just as she had done the evening before, but this time she had a question for Bill.
"Why would Munro be in court, today, in the public gallery?" she kicked off her shoes and reclined on the bed.
"Munro?"
"Aha," she nodded, "I don't know if he knows I saw him, but it was definitely him."
"Well," Bill hummed, "I have no idea."
"No connections to the factory owner, or Becker?"
"I suppose me and Lawson will have to have a poke around," he smirked, "or he wants to know how you get your cases dealt with so quickly."
"Quite legally, I assure you," she pretended to be insulted.
"Lull them into a false sense of security until they confess all," he grinned.
"Well, really," she huffed, "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Yeah, you do," he laughed. "And you keep doin' it."
"Bill, Becker came from a factory in Melbourne, d'ye think it's worth looking into that. See if any other complaints were made against him there?"
"We could, but it's a bit late to prosecute now."
"I know, I was just interested, is all."
"Sure you were."
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Vivi hoped the jury had come to a verdict. She didn't really fancy spending the day in Melbourne with nothing to do. She hadn't brought any other paperwork with her to concentrate on and there was nothing she wanted to buy.
She headed to the court to see how things were.
"Ah, Miss Blake," the usher smiled, "we miss you round here. It's nice to have you back."
"Oh I'm not staying," she shook her head, "only for the verdict on the Becker case then I'm off home."
"And how is it, out of the city?"
"I have my own office, take cases and spend a lot more time with my family." She smiled, "something I didn't think I was missing."
"You'll be tellin' me you're getting' wed, next," he laughed.
"I've just got engaged," she admitted, "to a copper."
"Congratulations, Miss Blake," he shook her hand gently. "He's a lucky man."
"Thank you. I think I'm the lucky one."
He thought he had seen a difference in her, from the last time she had been in court, the Clement and Fletcher case where she had been burned, and now he knew why, Vivienne Blake had at last found love, it gave her a glow.
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The jury shuffled back in, the prison officers were asked to bring Becker back up from the cells where he was waiting to hear his fate and Vivi and counsel for the defence went into the court.
"Get in there," the prison officer gave Becker a not so gentle push.
He shrugged away and dug his heels in.
"Oh no, mate, you're gonna hear what they have to say about you, tosser." He and the other officer with him almost had to drag him into the court to face his accusers and the jury.
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"Guilty," the foreman snapped.
"And is that the verdict of you all?"
"It is, your honour."
It would be the afternoon before sentence was given. The judge didn't want to wait and deliberate overnight, he'd rather get it over and done with.
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"… you shall go to prison for twenty years," the judge tapped his fingers together. "You have used these girls in an odious manner, Mr Becker; instead of keeping them safe and seeing they work well and without hindrance you have used and abused them. Take him down." He banged his gavel and sat back in his chair.
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The girls would be taken back to Ballarat but first they had to thank Vivi for bringing to an end what to them had been torture.
"There are good men in this world, ladies," she smiled, "much more than the Beckers of this world. Try to put this behind you, I know it won't be easy, and go and enjoy your lives."
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Vivi collected her things from the hotel, phoned Bill to tell him what train she would be on, paid her bill and headed to the station.
Once upon a time this would have been one of those trips home just to please her mother and catch up with Jean, now she could barely wait until she was home, with the door closed and wrapped in Bill's arms.
She dozed a little on the train until the guard called out that they were approaching Ballarat.
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She stepped down from the train, watching her footing rather than the people milling about on the platform.
"Carry your bag, Miss?" a familiar voice rumbled in her ear.
"Hello, Bill," she hummed and turned.
He slipped his arm round her waist, gave her a light kiss to the cheek and they headed to the car.
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The house was cool, there were fresh flowers on the hall table where he threw the car keys.
"Tea?"
She put her arms round his neck and they melted into a long, kiss.
"Come on," he pulled her down to the kitchen, "sit down and tell me all about it."
"Not much to tell," she watched him set the kettle to boil, "he got twenty years."
"Good, the girls are well rid of him."
"But I worry he's not the only one."
"No, he won't be." He agreed, "where did he come from?"
"According to the factory owner, he came highly recommended from a place in Melbourne. I don't believe this would be his first time abusing female workers. He seems to have no control around women. He …" she waved her hand in the direction of his genitals.
"Really?" Bill raised his eyebrows, "in court?"
She nodded.
"Dirty bugger."
"Well, he's in jail now, the girls can try to get on with their lives …"
"… and we can think about setting a date."
"That would be a good idea, or we'll be old and grey," she laughed.
"You, my love, will never be old," he murmured.
"Flatterer, what are you after?"
"Probably the same thing as you."
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Jean seemed to have been cooking for ever. Lucien marvelled at her making quiches, sausage rolls, scones, cakes and biscuits all ready for the christening party that weekend.
He made some tea. "Come on, love," he turned her to face him, "take a break …"
She looked round the kitchen and decided that he might be right. The cakes were cooling so she couldn't do anything with them right now, the biscuits would go in the tin and set aside to prevent little, and not so little, hands helping themselves.
She sat down and took the cup from him. "Thanks," she smiled, "I need this."
"Sometimes, sweetheart," he sat next to her and took her hand, "I don't think you ever stop, that you work too hard. I would like to help you."
"In the kitchen?" she gave him a 'look'.
"Wherever you need me."
"You work hard with your patients, darling, and you will be moving furniture and rounding up the children over the weekend. And your mother and Véro have been helping."
"Perhaps when the baptisms are done we should take a few days away?"
"What about Vivi's wedding?"
"She'll let us know when," he lifted her hand to his lips, "and she'll ask for help when she needs it."
"Oh, I know that," Jean huffed, a bit miffed he was thinking how she was already planning it, "I don't plan to take over, but …" she sighed, "you're right, maybe a couple of days to ourselves – if your mother can cope."
"With Aunt Véro and Uncle Pierre here, she'll be fine. She could always enlist Vivi's help."
"Vivi, with children?" she blurted out.
"Well, it'll make up her mind if she wants any," he gave a cheeky grin.
"It might," she agreed, remembering how many times Vivi had said she didn't see the appeal of motherhood. "Anyway, that cake won't ice itself," she stood up, "thank you, Lucien." She bent and kissed him quickly.
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All babies baptised, they all screamed the church down, Jean would laugh later, and everyone repaired back to the house for food, drink and general merriment.
The children were able to run around in the garden, or crawl, after Jean and Genevieve had changed them out of their outfits. Millie found her 'nice man' again and tugged him towards the tyre swing.
"Alright, lass," he raised his eyebrows at Vivi.
"Millie," she bent down to her, "you can call him Uncle Bill, if you like."
"Uncle Bill?" she considered this, "ok, Uncle Bill, swing?"
He dutifully lifted her up and settled her in the tyre, swinging it gently, and adding Peter to the game. Vivi looked on and smiled.
"He'll always be special to her," Lucien whispered in her ear. "She may not know why, but …"
I understand, I think," she smiled, "and that's ok, if it helps her, and it probably helps him. It was an awful thing for him to confront but sometimes I think it made something special of him. I've always thought of Bill as being gruff, hard, no nonsense, yet he turns out to be a gentle soul, quite a romantic – between you and me – supportive and not in the least inclined to treat me like a china doll."
"Yeah," he hummed, "as long as he makes you happy, then I am happy and glad to call him brother-in-law in the near future."
"Mmm, we are trying to set a date, and now the baptisms are out of the way it should be easier. We'd like Li to be a bridesmaid, but I'm not going for the full white dress do, and a quiet wedding; just family and a few close friends."
"Sounds lovely," he kissed her cheek and went to relieve his father of Jacob who was trying to take Thomas' glasses off him.
"Come on, son," he laughed, "granddad needs those to see you."
Thomas laughed, "you know, my boy," he looked up at Lucien, "you wouldn't think Millie and Jacob are adopted, they fit so well, don't you think?"
"Can't imagine life without 'em, father," he agreed.
"Wouldn't want to," Thomas nodded. "Where is Millie, by the way?"
"On the swing, with Peter. Uncle Bill is looking after them?"
"Uncle Bill? Ah yes, Bill, well, who'd have thought it, Bill Hobart playing with kiddies."
"Yeah, I was just talking to Vivi about him. Seems there are two Bills, one a hopeless romantic and the other a hard-nosed copper."
"'bout time they set a date," he grumbled.
"They're working on it."
"Good."
"Not a big do, Vivi says, family and friends, and Li as bridesmaid."
"Sounds lovely."
"I'd like to take Jean away, for a few days," he sat on the couch with Jacob on his knee, "she needs a break, though she's the last to admit it. She doesn't seem to have stopped lately."
"She's always been a worker, but I get what you're saying. At least take her to see a show, stay overnight in Melbourne, perhaps. That would be a start."
"That's an idea," Lucien brightened, "I'll see what's on. Will you and maman be alright with the children?"
"We have plenty of other adults to call on," he shook his head, "but I'm sure we'll manage, why don't you ask her?"
"Now?"
"Strike while the iron's hot, my boy."
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"Of course we can manage," Genevieve huffed, "they are perfectly well behaved for us."
"Hm," he chewed his lip.
"You are the one who winds them up, Lucien, you are almost as bad as they are."
"Maman!" he huffed.
"You always have been, mon cher, and I love you for it. Perfect children usually have wicked thoughts."
"Well, I don't know when, I have to see if there's something suitable on," he smiled, "but I think she deserves a break, don't you?"
"She does, but why have you only just noticed?"
"I haven't but it was the other day, when she was doing the baking for this shindig, there was so much stuff around and she had done the greater part of it, I thought I should take her away for a few days; father suggested a show, as a starter."
"It would get her to see she can leave the children, at least for a night." Genevieve agreed, "you find the show, book the hotel and tickets, we'll look after the children."
"Thanks, maman," he kissed her cheek.
His next port of call was to see how Matthew was coping with fatherhood, he so rarely got to speak to him socially since Isobel had been born.
"We're doin' alright," Matthew took a glass of wine off him. "You said Isobel is meeting her marks …"
"She is, when Alice comes to see me, anyway. She says the midwives and health visitors treat here as if she has no brains so she prefers to come to me. But it's you I don't get to see, except at work, so, Matthew, truly, how are you?"
Matthew gave him a funny look.
"Yeah, I know," Lucien laughed, "but I've got five here, I've done the broken sleep, the endless rounds of tea, and I have maman to help us. Man to man, Matthew …"
"The broken sleep? I guess I've got used to it, Alice seems to be coping, but she has admitted to napping in the afternoon. She's started to let me do more, with Isobel, but I think you might have had a hand in that, or Jean. I'm just so grateful they are both alright, which is down to you, and Li. We'll be right, Blake," he smiled, "but thanks for askin'."
"Where are they, I don't see Alice?" Lucien looked around the room.
"I expect she's taken her to the babies' room, to feed her. I heard Jean suggest it."
"There's a nursing chair in there," Lucien nodded. "I'll get Jean to take her a drink."
"Thanks, but, I'll do it."
"Good man," he hummed.
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Alice was just tidying herself up when he poked his nose into the nursery.
"Tea? Or I can get you a glass of something," Matthew smiled.
"Something cold, please," she gave him a tired smile. He thought he'd suggest they leave soon, have a quiet night in.
He reappeared with a tall glass of lemonade; she took it and he took his daughter off her.
"Everything ok?"
"Yes," Alice reached over and took his hand, "it's been a long day."
"When you've drunk that, shall we go home, have a quiet night in? I'm sure Jean and Lucien won't mind."
"Do you think that would be alright? I don't want to appear rude."
"I know it would be alright, love. Jean's been here, what, four times? She knows what it's like to have a young baby. And you didn't have it easy with her."
"If you think it would be ok, I'd like that"
"Right," he bent down and kissed her, softly. "I love you," he whispered.
"Love you, too," she smiled and squeezed his hand.
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When all but Vivi and Bill had left the party, Jean was ordered to put her feet up while Lucien, Bill and Thomas washed up and tidied the kitchen.
"Nice to see Bill as part of the family," Thomas muttered.
"We were thinking about a month, maybe six weeks," Vivi hummed, knowing what her father was wanting to ask, "for the wedding. And I was hoping Pierre and Véro would stay for it."
"That would be lovely," Genevieve smiled, "I suppose you just want family?"
"Maybe a few close friends, Matthew and Alice, and Li as bridesmaid."
"Church?"
"We're not sure, depends on whether Father Moreton will marry us because Bill isn't Catholic."
"You could always go to the Anglican," Jean suggested, "Reverend Cross is nice, as you saw."
"Perhaps."
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"Miss Vivienne Blake," the young constable stood in front of her desk, "you need to come with us."
"Really, constable, and why would that be?" she asked sweetly.
"Um, Father Moreton has been found dead and you were the last person to be seen with him."
"Constable," she frowned and stood up, "are you accusing me of murdering my priest?"
"Just come with us, please," he took out his handcuffs.
"Oh now really," she huffed, "you can interview me here, that would be perfectly acceptable in an investigation."
"Inspector Munro …"
"Oh, of course, it would be him." She snapped, "alright then," she picked up her handbag and jacket and let them lead her out.
"Elsie, will you let my fiancé know I may be late for lunch."
"Miss Blake!" Elsie squeaked then cleared her throat, "er yes, Miss."
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Enough people had seen two constables enter Vivi's office and word had got around, people were waiting to see what was happening.
"No?"
"Really?"
The whispers were loud, she ignored them, she was going to have William Munro's balls for this, she would find enough dirt on him to drag him through the courts and have him thrown out of the force for whatever charge she could find. The only reason he would dare to arrest her on such flimsy evidence would be that he was scared of her. Was that the reason he was in court that day, when she was prosecuting Becker for rape? Was he afraid to face her from the witness box?
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"Miss Blake, sir," the constable coughed as they stood in front of Munro's desk.
"Interview room one," he didn't look up.
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As soon as he was out of earshot the office started to mutter.
"Who is she?" a very new constable frowned.
"That, Constable Davies," someone informed him, "is Miss Vivienne Blake, lawyer, sister to Dr Lucien Blake, our police surgeon, fiancée of Sergeant Bill Hobart and generally brilliant woman who nobody dares to cross. She's gonna have his balls for breakfast."
"Really?"
"Yeah, she's taken down bigger men than him."
"Right. So …?"
"Keep your head down."
Constable Davies wondered what he should do. He'd been taken from his station in Melbourne and sent to Ballarat to uncover what top brass thought was some corruption. He'd met Inspector Lawson and found him to be a decent man, but he knew the evidence Munro had to arrest Miss Blake was so full of holes several buses could get through it. He'd been at the scene of Father Moreton's death. The priest had been found in his confession booth, apparently stung to death by bees. There was a broken jar on the floor that Blake had surmised contained the bees and as he was allergic to bee stings this was murder.
Munro had wandered down while Davies was taking the names of those in the church but he didn't see Vivi. Someone had said she was there, about fifteen, maybe twenty minutes before he was found.
"Confessions, Constable," Mrs Toohey glared at him, "he was taking confession. Miss Blake had a meeting with him in the vestry, I think, they came out, she went to confession and left."
"How did she seem?"
"Quite well."
"Anything else?"
"She seemed happy enough, she certainly wasn't angry."
"Thank you, Mrs Toohey," he closed his notebook, "most helpful."
Davies wondered if he should go and tell Munro that Miss Blake had left well before Father Moreton had been found and that he had taken a couple more confessions after hers.
But Munro wasn't interested in what he had to say, brushed him off and continued to question Vivi about her reason for visiting Father Moreton.
"The idea of confession, Inspector," she raised an eyebrow, "is that it is between me and my priest."
"But the priest is dead …"
"That doesn't change anything."
"You were seen coming out of the vestry with him."
"Well, there were plenty of other people in the church, Mrs Toohey and some other ladies were doing the flowers, of course I was seen."
"And why were you in the vestry?"
"I wanted to know if Father Moreton would agree to perform my wedding service."
"Aha!" he thought he knew where this was going. "And he turned you down."
"Actually, he said he would be delighted, but because Bill isn't Catholic it wouldn't be a full wedding mass, which is fine by us." She took the wind out of his sails, she had just given a perfect reason for why she would not kill Father Moreton. She wasn't keen on Father Emery, the younger priest who was, she thought, after Moreton's parish.
"You …" he pointed his finger at her, "you …"
"May I go now?"
He growled, which she took as permission to leave. As she left the room and started towards the main office Lucien came charging round the corner, followed by Bill and nearly knocked her over.
"Ah," she smiled, "the cavalry."
"Vivi …" they both gasped.
"I'm fine," she slipped her hand into the crook of Bill's elbow, "shall we go and have some lunch."
"What?"
"We can talk over lunch," she tugged Bill, "come on, before he changes his mind."
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They found a quiet table in the café and she told them what had happened, why she thought Munro had nearly arrested her.
"He stopped short of an actual arrest, but he practically accused me of murder, until I told him Father Moreton had agreed to perform the marriage – rather deflated him." She took a mouthful of water, "Lucien, I think, no, I'm sure he's hiding something. Some of the junior constables he's had brought in are blindly following his orders; a quick arrest, job done."
"Until you come along and blow those out of the water."
"Technically Matthew does," she shrugged.
"Alright, he does," Bill agreed, "but what does he want?"
"Me out of the way," she looked at both of them. "Oh, he won't have me murdered, discredited, it's meaner."
"So, where do we go from here?" Bill frowned, more from the worry that Munro could harm Vivi, than anything else.
"Well, while he was interrogating me a new constable came in, he wanted to tell Munro something, but he wouldn't let him."
"So, what do you think of him?"
"The new chap? I actually think he's ok, even from that, he seemed irked that he couldn't tell him something pertaining to the case."
"Well, gotta admit, even Patrick's keeping his distance – told me to watch my back."
"Better the devil he knows," Vivi laughed.
"Trouble is, the more cases he deals with the more Matthew has to clear up. Makes you wonder why they sent Munro?"
"To help out, Matthew had requested special leave when Alice was expecting." Lucien reminded them, "but Matthew is back in harness, so to speak, and though he could do with another Inspector to run the station someone like Munro is not who he needs."
"No, so what do we do?" Bill frowned.
"Nothing, well, not openly," Lucien hummed, "perhaps talk to this copper that you were talking about, who's the newest, Bill?"
"Davies, transferred in from Melbourne, by brass, actually, not by Munro, so that's a good sign. You do know the files are sent to the Commissioner's office, when each case is closed, so he'll have seen all the ones that didn't get to court because Lawson cleaned up the mess – Sands for one."
"So the Commissioner will have seen all the others, all with Munro's name attached." Vivi hummed, "perhaps that's why Davies has been transferred over. Maybe we should welcome him to Ballarat and invite him to dinner – without the children?"
They finished their lunch and Bill walked Vivi back to her office. Lucien planned to go and invite Constable Davies to dinner on an evening to suit him, depending on his shifts.
