Chapter 4 - Peony

*.*.*.

The Imperial Club was not somewhere Jack had ever intended to step foot into, not unless he was on a raid. Once they had made it past the doorman by flashing his police ID he tried to look at least a little less out of place than Collins but he felt he only really managed this by his lack of police uniform and not by anything resembling ease.

He had been called onto this murder investigation by his now ex-wife, desperate for his help to clear her father's name as he had been discovered locked in a room with the victim who had the misfortune to work at this particular gentleman's club. The more the case went on the less Jack thought he'd be able to exonerate George Sanderson but he was still nowhere near being able to close the case or prove George either innocent or guilty.

The staff at the Imperial Club had been less than friendly with him as he tried to get information on the victim. Jack realised that he would have got more out of the women if he had posed as a customer but it was too late for that, they all knew who he was by now and he had absolutely no desire to make anyone think he'd frequent this sort of place by choice.

They had entered the bar area, which had been all but deserted once the men drinking in there had seen the two police officers enter. The women who remained there seemed mostly angry at them for disrupting their work, although one glamorous young blonde had seemed particularly enamoured with the buttons on Collins' uniform.

Sure enough only a few moments after the room cleared the doorman, who had begrudgingly let them in, came into the room with two women flanking him. Through poise alone, Jack could tell that the elder of the two was the one he was looking for.

"Ah, Madam Lyon, I'm Detective Inspector Jack Robinson."

"Police officers tend to put our guests off their drinks," Madam Lyon ventured, which didn't seem like a terribly friendly greeting to Jack.

"It's murder I'm interested in, Madam, not vice. Take a statement from the doorman," Jack instructed Collins. This might be Madam Lyon's business but Jack had to make it clear that he was the one in control right at this moment.

Hugh agreed, probably eager to be away from the crowd of unhappy female staff, leaving Jack alone in the room full of beautiful but angry hostesses.

"I need to ask some questions about the death of Miss Sarah Holloway. Lavinia," he announced to the room of annoyed women.

"No one saw anything," Madam Lyon replied as if unconcerned by the girl's death. "We were very busy last night."

Unsurprisingly the women all backed her up. The other woman who had entered with Madam Lyon motioned to the younger girls and they all walked over to the back of the room, leaving Jack with Madam Lyon and this other one, presumably her second in command.

The second was a rather striking brunette with bright blue eyes, which almost seemed green when the light caught them at the right angle, who wore her hair in a modern bob. She had gone behind the bar unannounced and poured out three shots, two of which she handed to Madam Lyon before downing the third herself. Madam Lyon handed Jack one of the remaining ones.

"We have a very complicated relationship with the police, Inspector," Madam Lyon told him.

"I'm sure you do," Jack agreed.

"And I learnt long ago, the only way to protect my business and keep my girls safe is to trust no one, except Peony."

Peony being the name of the woman at her side from the nod of Madam Lyon's head to her. The other woman, Peony, having already finished her drink, had been busy glaring at him during their conversation.

"Except you didn't keep Lavinia safe," Jack pointed out, testing whether or not that would even upset the women who so far didn't seem to care that the poor woman had been murdered.

Madam Lyon looked over at Peony. While there had been no change noticeable in Madam Lyon's demeanour, the younger woman looked angry now but Jack suspected with herself rather than him.

"She knew I couldn't help her if she wasn't here." Peony finally spoke instead of merely trying to intimidate her with her glare. "All the girls know that. And now they also all know that the police aren't to be trusted. Luckily, I still can be."

Without a thought of any consequences, Peony hitched up her skirt to show Jack a knife in her garter.

"Is that a threat, Miss Peony?" he asked, not sure whether he should be worried or possibly amused that this woman had no issues threatening a police officer with a weapon.

Peony smirked. "If you like, Inspector. I'd call it a promise."

"Get rid of him, Peony," one of the women at the back yelled. So, despite the men on the door, Jack realised that this Peony was considered their protector. Interesting. Especially for such a delicate looking woman. Jack decided not to underestimate her.

"This will go much smoother if you cooperate," he told them.

Peony rolled her eyes at his words. "Oh, we've all heard that before, haven't we girls?"

That led to raucous laughter. Jack decided to ignore the chorus and turned to the main act. "I want your official register. One of your clientele might have been Lavinia's attacker."

Madam Lyon snapped her fingers. "Peony. Get the official register for the Inspector and make sure he doesn't cause any more disruption."

"Of course, Madam Lyon."

Jack glared at them and then walked off into the lounge where the band was still playing for the customers who hadn't left yet. He did not need any more antagonising from these women. The club wasn't going to help him, fine, but he was still going to do his job.

Collins joined him after he had finished talking to the doorman.

"I want a complete list of the club's employees from the police file on the Sanderson raid," Jack instructed as soon as he appeared. "Call each of the women into the station separately, including Madam Lyon."

"Sir," replied Collins in acceptance only, clearly not happy at the prospect of speaking to any of them again.

"Did he give you anything?"

"Not really, sir," was his answer.

Jack looked up to see Peony sauntering over to them. For a moment he was distracted by the sway of her hips and her general aura of sexuality. She thrust a large ledger at Collins.

"The club register," she announced.

Jack found himself staring at her face. There was something familiar about her that he just couldn't place. "Have we met before, Miss Peony?"

That was entirely the wrong thing to ask he immediately realised. He suddenly found Peony's body pressed up against him and a hand running down his chest. "I don't think so. I'm sure you'd remember…"

Jack stepped away before her hand went too low but he still couldn't shake the feeling that he'd seen her before although he knew for certain they hadn't met in the way she was insinuating. "What's your name?"

"Peony," she replied without hesitation.

"Surname?"

"Smith."

"Convenient."

She chuckled at his sarcasm. "Oh, come on, you don't seem quite as naive as this young boy you brought with you. My name can be whatever you want for the right price."

Jack tilted his head and took a good look at her, although he kept his eyes from looking at anything other than her face. "I'll figure it out, Miss Peony."

She laughed again, a real laugh this time rather than her faux seductive one. "I swear I have never seen you before in my life, Detective Inspector Robinson, and I have met a lot of cops."

He narrowed his eyes at her and almost smiled. "You know, Peony Smith, that's the first thing I've heard you say that I actually believe. Come on, let's get that uniform out of here, Collins."

Another of the women was just about to make a beeline for them as Jack spoke and Hugh looked utterly relieved at the prospect of leaving the place.

"Leave it, Lola," Jack heard Peony call over to the woman, the one who had liked Hugh's buttons before.

"But the young one's cute," the blonde complained as she made her way to Peony's side.

"Yes but we want them gone, but hey, Constable, if you want to come back here out of uniform sometime you make sure you ask for Lola."

Jack watched as following that invitation Collins practically ran out of the room with the book tucked firmly under his arm. Jack then looked back at the smirking women as he became the centre of their attention. Peony winked at him. "You ask for me, sweetheart."

"If I come for you it will be with handcuffs," Jack promised her.

She just smiled as if it wasn't a threat. "Sounds like fun. I'd let you cuff me, Inspector."

For the merest of split seconds, he found himself imaging the scenario Peony had alluded to. Almost as quickly he brought himself back to reality. As he rationalised it, Jack just told himself it had been a long time since he'd been with a woman. He was a good and honourable man and while he had still been married he refused to be with any woman who wasn't his wife no matter what state his marriage was in. Since he'd been legally single again, which had only been for a month, he'd been too busy with work to even contemplate the idea of finding a new lady to spend his spare time with. However he was only human and Peony Smith, or whoever she really was, was a very alluring woman. He reasoned that it was perfectly natural for him to feel some attraction to her but he knew he would never frequent this sort of place or pay for the company of a woman.

*.*.*.

However, no matter how hard Jack tried, Peony didn't leave his thoughts. Not so much because he'd been attracted to her, that was her job to be attractive and she clearly excelled at it, but because she seemed so familiar. He believed her when she insisted that they'd never met before but he couldn't ignore his instincts either.

As he often did when he needed something else to focus on than his own thoughts, Jack went back to the Foyle case when he returned to the station. He clearly wasn't going to get anywhere with Lavinia's murder that evening. The register Peony had given him hadn't been any help. Every man in Melbourne was called John Smith apparently.

He stared at the description of Phryne Fisher in her missing person file. Brown hair and blue eyes, might be dressed like a boy. Peony certainly had brown hair and blue eyes and her hair was short enough, although everything about her had been extremely feminine. She also appeared to be around the right age for the missing woman. However her colouring wasn't exactly unique and she wasn't the only woman to have cut her hair short in the current fashion. A thought came to him.

"Collins!" Jack called.

As ever, Collins came running through into his office as soon as Jack called his name. "Sir?"

"I know we don't have a photograph of Phryne Fisher on record but do we have one of Janey Fisher?"

"I don't know, sir, why?"

"In case she looks like her sister. She's the best we have to go on with no photograph of Phryne, just an old sketch."

Collins vanished and came back a minute or two later with a newspaper article which he offered to Jack. "We kept this in case Foyle targeted the engagement party. She's in this photograph."

Jack took the proffered piece of paper. There were the engaged couple, centre stage of course, with Prudence Stanley and Janey Fisher at either side. A happy family, Jack mused to himself, although he did note the absence of the other Stanley brother from the image. Jack stared at the picture, trying to imagine Janey Fisher with a brown bob. The image that appeared in his head did not look altogether dissimilar to the woman he had just encounted. It was a long shot he knew but since the woman's name clearly wasn't Peony Smith, Jack had to accept the possibility that he had just found Phryne Fisher.

"Sir?" Collins asked after he had stayed silent for too long.

Jack put the article down and turned his attention back to his constable. "I don't want to say anything to the family yet in case I'm wrong, but I think our missing Fisher sister might be at the Imperial Club."

Collins' distaste showed in his face. "I hope not, sir. Miss Fisher's a lovely girl. I don't want to have to tell her that her sister's doing…that."

"It's that or tell her that she's dead, Collins."

Collins sighed. "I'll leave it to you, sir."

Jack nodded in understanding.

*.*.*.

She watched as Detective Inspector Jack Robinson entered the bar again. She had to give him credit, he wasn't letting it go and this time he was almost blending in with the rest of her customers. She saw another hostess start to approach him but she waved her away. This man was all hers and if she wanted him, the rest of the women accepted that they probably didn't.

"What can I get you, sweetheart?"

He jumped at her sarcastically saccharine voice. His attention had been claimed by the other activities in the room and clearly hadn't noticed her walking behind the bar. Once she had claimed his attention she noticed his eyes ever so briefly dart down to her cleavage as she leant across the bar closer to him.

"I'd like some information, Miss Smith," Robinson replied as if his eyes had never wavered from her face.

"Huh," she laughed. "Haven't you got the message? We don't talk to the cops. So, what are you drinking?"

If her sudden change of subject surprised him he didn't let it show. It was quite clear that the Inspector was very good at not letting things show on his face. "It's a bit early, isn't it?"

"Not if you don't want to stick out like a sore thumb, Robinson."

Calling him by his name seemed to surprise him. Had he expected her to forget it, or him? Well, she could hardly call him Inspector in here could she? Not when he was trying so hard to blend in. She certainly wasn't going to forget him either, not if he was hunting for Lavinia's killer.

"Whiskey, then," he gave in after a moment's contemplation.

She poured him a shot as he got out his wallet. He certainly was an unusual police officer. Most of them considered their job a very good reason to be given free drinks. Rather than giving him the drink, she held it back instead. "It's on the house if you come with me."

"Where?"

"Don't you trust me?" she teased him.

He raised an eyebrow. "The woman with a knife in her garter?"

She shrugged lazily as if her being armed meant nothing. "Only in one of them. I have a gun in the other."

He was still so calm and collected that his only reaction to that was a slight shake of his head. "I am going to assume that you're not being serious with that remark."

"Oh, I'm always serious," she replied in her most seductive voice, realising she was beginning to enjoy matching wits with this one. "Especially when I'm fooling around. Are you coming with me or not?"

"Do I have a choice?" There was the slightest hint of a smile on his face at his words. Of course he would be very interested to know why the woman who had been tasked with removing him on his last visit suddenly wanted to spend private time with him. She suspected that despite his obvious attraction to her, he intended this to be purely business.

She handed him the glass then came out from behind the bar, giving him no further information. She couldn't afford to be spotted speaking to him by the wrong person, so she walked to the back of the room and he silently followed her into one of the club's private booths.

"What information do you want?" she asked as they took a seat on the strategically placed chaise lounge.

Robinson downed his whiskey before answering. "I have a few questions."

"Go on."

"What's your name?"

She laughed at his question. "I thought we've been over this."

"And I refuse to believe you and every man in here is called Smith."

She chuckled, knowing that he must have been extremely annoyed on discovering the contents of the ledger she'd given him. "If that's what they call themselves…"

"Please," he interrupted, closer to begging than frustrated. "I don't believe I've done anything to make you think I'm quite that stupid."

She sighed at his insistence. He really was quite cute in a way and she was becoming more and more convinced that he really was a rather intelligent man which was quite unusual for a cop in her experience. "Peony Smith is not what it says on my birth certificate, wherever that is, no. But I have been Peony since I was barely 16."

"Where's the real register, Miss…"

She shook her head at his sly prompt for her real name. "Smith. That is the real register. Did you sign in with your real name?"

"I'm here on official business," he replied nonchalantly.

"Oh, you're a good man, aren't you Inspector Robinson?" She smiled in her most seductive manner and shifted position so as to better show off her figure to him, mostly to simply tease the poor man.

She watched him glance at her body as she moved. Good or not, he was clearly attracted to her. She didn't mind, he looked like he could be some fun if he let his guard down a little. In fact a part of her was starting to hope that he might as she had no scruples regarding mixing business with pleasure, although she suspected he would. "I try to be."

"Good, that's what I hoped," she replied, dropping her voice to almost a whisper. For now she needed to stop flirting with him and be serious. "Madam Lyon will kill me if she finds out I've been talking to you, figuratively I mean, but I don't think I can find Lavinia's killer on my own. So how about we team up? You clearly want our help and must know by now you won't get it, not officially, but as a police officer there are things you can do that I can't."

His eyes went to her legs and she was convinced that despite her hopes to the contrary he wasn't considering running his hands up them. Instead she suspected he was remembering her flashing her knife at him and her telling him what she kept up the other leg. She hadn't been lying about the gun. "What sort of justice are you searching for, exactly?"

She tossed her hair as if unconcerned by his question. "He'll hang, won't he? I don't have to be the one to pull the trigger. All I want is for Lavinia's killer to pay for what he's done."

That seemed to pacify the Inspector as to her intentions. "Go on," he prompted.

She paused before responding to him. She had never trusted the police and never found opening up to anyone easy but desperate times and all that. "Lavinia was leaving. Madam Lyon had been grooming her to do more with the business, like she had done with me. I take care of the girls but Lavinia was supposed to be taking care of the books."

He seemed surprised. "You think that Madam Lyon…"

"No!" she exclaimed quickly. "Never, she'd never hurt one of us, but she wasn't happy. Maybe by accident… no, I can't think that. There's this priest…"

"Father Blackburn."

She smiled at that. "You are good, Inspector. Now, we'd be very happy to see the back of him if you happened to find any evidence that he's been up to no good."

"Did Lavinia see anyone outside the club to your knowledge?" he asked, ignoring her prompt regarding the priest.

She shook her head. "We don't do that, Inspector. You see, we're each other's protection. If a man tries to force us to do something we don't want to do here, if they get the wrong idea about what this club is for, we shout loudly and everyone else comes running. What we do might not be up to everyone's moral standards but here we make certain everyone's safe. Why would any of the women leave this protection?"

"More money?" he asked.

"Maybe," she conceded, "but I don't think it's worth the risk."

"But I'm not investigating your murder, Miss Fisher."

She nearly fell off her seat in shock. She hadn't been called Miss Fisher since she was a child, how on earth had he known? He clearly wasn't just good at his job; he apparently excelled at it. He had to have waited until the perfect moment to drop that name into conversation, after countless efforts to get her to say it herself, and he'd managed to do so with the straightest face she'd ever seen. Now she'd reacted and given the game away his expression had changed ever so slightly and he sat there now, with a slight smirk on his lips, the certain grin of a man who knew he'd just won. She was saved from saying anything herself by the curtain opening at the worst possible moment.

"Get out of here, Lena, it's taken," she snapped at the woman who had appeared.

Lena took in the sight, probably entirely mistaking her lack of composure and the smile on her companion's face. "Oh, sorry, Peony."

Lena then immediately left her alone with this man who somehow seemed to know all her secrets.

"It was the eyes," he told her eventually as the moment passed and she didn't move or speak. "That's what seemed familiar. I've spent a little time in the company of your sister recently, Miss Fisher. She made me reopen your case."

"Janey," Phryne whispered.

"So I suppose that was a lie," Robinson continued talking as if he hadn't noticed his distress. "However until just now I wasn't sure if your case was a murder or a missing person. I am glad I don't have to tell your sister that you're dead, though."

"You can't tell her I'm here! Little Janey, she can't know how I earn my keep!"

"I have to, Miss Fisher."

"Don't call me that!" she hissed at him.

"Would you prefer it if I called you Phryne?"

"No! Get out, Inspector, and never come back!"

He stood up and brushed down his jacket, all business and completely ignoring the way she was screaming at him. "I may have solved your missing person case but I still have to find Lavinia's killer and I'm not done looking into Foyle either."

He looked almost surprised as she stood up and physically pushed him out of the booth. "I will find Lavinia's killer, you don't need to worry about it and I have no idea who the hell Foyle is."

"You don't?" That seemed to confuse him. He stumbled as he tried to turn around to look at her but she continued to push him towards the exit.

"Leave!" She yelled that loud enough that several members of staff came running. As she'd told him, one woman yelling in this place drew a crowd. Robinson looked around and saw that he had no choice, he was outnumbered and the women looked even angrier than they had on his last visit.

"This isn't over," he warned as a parting shot before he walked towards the exit, trying to act composed as if he wasn't worried about being physically thrown out of the club.

"Peony, are you alright?" Lena asked as she came running over, her companion abandoned.

"I'm fine," Phryne lied as she watched the doorman catch up with and escort Robinson out of the room.

"I've never seen anyone get the better of you before–"

"Shut up, Lena!" Phryne yelled, not wanting to hear what she knew was the truth. She stormed off back behind the bar where this had all started and poured herself a shot of the nearest spirit and downed it. Then a second. She tried to calm down as her worst fears from that day she left home came flooding back. She was an adult now; she didn't have to go back to live with her family if she didn't want to. Besides, if her father tried to hurt her again, she had a gun this time and she was a rather good shot.

TBC...