Chapter 5 - Strange Bedfellows

*.*.*.

Janey was delighted when Dot told her that Inspector Robinson was here to see her. She had started seeing less and less of him as the case of her missing sister hit more brick walls. Janey had known, of course, that finding Phryne after all this time wasn't going to be easy but just knowing that Inspector Robinson hadn't given up looking gave her some small hope. She still dreaded the idea that one day he could possibly arrive to tell her that he'd found Phryne's body but also lived in the hope that one day she would simply find him waiting in the parlour with Phryne by his side.

There was no Phryne with him this time, he was alone. He hadn't even brought Constable Collins with him which she thought wasn't a great sign.

"Any news, Inspector?" Janey asked after greeting him, refusing to give up entirely.

"Yes, actually, I do have an update for you. Um, would you like to take a seat, Miss Fisher?"

He didn't seem to be about to tell her that they'd found a body, his demeanour wasn't quite that solemn, but Janey didn't think this was happy news either. She followed his instructions and sat down, with him then taking a seat opposite her. "What is it, Inspector?"

"Well, simply put, I have located your sister."

Janey leapt straight back up onto her feet in delight. "Phryne! At last! Where is she, is she safe?"

He nodded with an odd look on his face, as if Janey had just stumbled upon in-joke she wasn't party to. "Extremely safe, yes. I would not want to get on her bad side, that's for certain."

"Is she here? Is she waiting outside?"

"No," he replied hesitantly. "I'm sorry, Miss Fisher, she has asked me not to let you know where she is."

Janey was confused. "But…we're sisters. She loves me, I know she does. She wouldn't want to avoid me."

He smiled sadly. "I believe she does care for you, yes. Miss Fisher, your sister ran off at a very young age and has had to fend for herself all that time. You, meanwhile, inherited a fortune and moved to another country. You are very different people now. I think she might be worried about what you'll think of her after all this time. I suspect she's keeping away from you now because she believes it would be better for you that way."

"Oh, I would never hold her past against her, Inspector, no matter what she had to do to survive. I just need to see her."

To Janey's horror, the Inspector stood up as if the matter was solved. "I will talk to her, Miss Fisher, and try to persuade her to come to you but I'm afraid I can do little more than that. I don't think I would be able to force your sister to do anything, even if I wanted to."

"Did the man, Foyle, did he do something to her?" Janey had to ask, worried about what the answer might be but so happy to know that he hadn't killed her.

She swore he rolled his eyes at her question. "That I have yet to establish. So far all I know is that your sister is alive and well. It is the best news I could have for you."

"So I suppose we won't see you again," Janey replied forlornly, wondering where this news left her now. She had hoped that if Phryne had been found alive that the Inspector would return her to her sister and then the pair of them could travel back to England together to see Mother and Father. Then Janey could help Phryne with her introduction into society in London. She hadn't considered the possibility that a living Phryne would still refuse to come home. Could Phryne have remained that obstinate even into adulthood? Yes, Janey decided, that would be very like her sister.

His face lit up ever so slightly. "I wouldn't say that, Miss Fisher. I still am looking into Foyle's involvement in all this, so I may still need to speak to you. And, um, I may need to find reasons to have Constable Collins come over to speak to your maid."

Janey chuckled at that. "Oh, they are so sweet, aren't they? I already dote on Dot so much but he would be such a good match for her."

Robinson nodded in agreement. "I believe you are correct about that. Until the next time, then, Miss Fisher."

"Goodbye, Inspector Robinson."

*.*.*.

Tensions were running high with the general public as Jack struggled to work out who Lavinia's killer was. He refused to accept that it was George Sanderson, he believed he had been framed but how and why still eluded him. He had arrested him as he ran out of reasons not to but that didn't seem to settle the crowds who wanted to see justice done, or what they considered justice at any rate. While his personal connection to Sanderson had yet to be reported on, the simple fact that the accused was a police officer himself was enough for plenty of people to assume that Jack was attempting to cover up for him. Jack had already been attacked once and now, as he walked home in the dark after parking his car, he was aware of being followed. He slightly increased his walking speed. He didn't want his follower to be aware that he'd been noticed but Jack likewise wanted to get into the safety of his house as soon as possible.

He was so focused on the footsteps behind him that he didn't even see someone step out in front of him until he heard a voice yell for him to get down, then he heard two gunshots and as Jack stumbled as he tried to crouch down out of shot, he caught his arm on the railing of the house behind him. He felt a sharp pain in his arm and heard the tearing of cloth. He looked down to see blood pooling on his ripped coat. The footsteps that had been following him came closer and a strangely feminine voice swore before kneeling down to look at his arm.

"He's gone now, run off," she told him, pulling up his sleeve to look at his wound.

"Miss Fisher?"

"Not too bad, it's a deep enough cut but it shouldn't scar if we get you cleaned up properly. Your place is around here, right?"

Jack couldn't quite believe what he was seeing as Phryne Fisher helped him stand up while she simultaneously tried to stem the flow of blood from his arm with her own handkerchief. She grinned at his shocked expression. "You really like annoying people, don't you?"

"Were you following me?" he asked her, ignoring her pointless question.

"Only from your car," she exclaimed innocently. "I couldn't find out your exact address, only the street. Saw the car and guessed that was you."

"Because that answer should reassure me? How did you find out where I live?"

"Huh," she scoffed, "says the man who casually drops my real name that I haven't heard in the best part of 15 years into conversation. Yes, Inspector, I have enough contacts that I found out roughly where you live but you seem to know more about me than I do you."

"I don't know if you know how to care for a wound," he argued with her.

She stared at him with those brilliant blue eyes that told him he was an idiot. "I spent my childhood on the streets and my adult life in a gentleman's club. There's no wound I can't clean."

"Sounds reasonable enough," Jack agreed, realising there was probably a truth to those words, "and I also suspect that if I don't let you into my house you'll just follow me and break in anyway."

"That was my original plan," Phryne replied as if it was a perfectly normal and reasonable thing to do.

"Well," he took over holding the fabric against his wound, trying to ignore the electricity as their fingers touched before she finally let go of his arm. "It's this way."

He told himself that it was just the shock of being shot at that resulted in him letting a woman he'd already decided was dangerous into his home. That and the acknowledgement that she may have just saved his life. He also recognised through her sister's description and what he'd learnt from the club that dangerous as Phryne Fisher was, she was dangerous to anyone who might pose a risk to someone who couldn't defend themselves. He prided himself on likewise being a defender of the weak so he had to hope that she recognised that in him and didn't see him as the enemy.

Once inside she pushed him to sit on a couch in the parlour, taking complete control of the situation.

"Your first aid kit?" she asked him bluntly with no preamble.

"Bathroom cabinet," he replied and with that she stalked off as if this was her house, not his.

Jack sat there simply trying to catch his breath while she was gone. Phryne Fisher had been waiting for him, why? That she was armed was no surprise but who had shot at him? Then the thought occurred, had they shot at him or had they shot at her and he'd simply been in the way?

He looked up as she came back and couldn't help but smile at the sight of her now she was in a lit room rather than hidden by the dark shadows of the street. In the club she'd worn tight and revealing dresses that showed off her body to maximum effect. The woman who was tending his arm was wearing a loose but still flattering blouse with a pair of trousers rather than a more traditional skirt. He was certain that she'd been wearing a coat and hat when he'd first recognised her, she must have discarded these in the hall when getting the bandages. Maybe the woman in the club had been Peony Smith but this one gently cleaning his wound fitted the description of Phryne Fisher perfectly.

"What?" she asked him, finally looking up from her task of cleaning his wound for him and noticing his grin.

"There was no photograph of you in your missing person file, you know. Just a description: brown hair, blue eyes, might be dressed as a boy."

She sniggered and Jack winced as she got deeper into his wound to clean out any grit. "Mother saw me in trousers once and clearly is still holding it against me all these years later. Sadly for her, dresses are great for seducing men but trousers are better for hunting down coppers."

Jack bit his tongue to stop him from telling her that she looked just as alluring in trousers, maybe more so because she seemed more relaxed. She'd already proven that any hint of attraction on his part would result in her immediately flirting with her and he needed to keep this as professional as he could in the circumstances. "So why are you hunting policemen, Miss Fisher?"

Phryne sighed and rocked back on her heels as she reached for a bandage to wrap around his wound. "To apologise, Inspector. You shocked me in the club and I overreacted."

Jack stared at her. Just exactly who was this woman? "You shock me, Miss Fisher. You don't seem the type who apologises easily."

She made a noise that was almost a growl. "Mm. I don't but I felt you deserved one. Plus it appears I really do need your help to find Lavinia's killer. I can't let men go around killing my girls."

"I locked up Sanderson, isn't that enough for you?"

"If you thought it was Sanderson you wouldn't still be investigating."

"Your sister said you were smart."

Miss Fisher stood up and dusted off her hands as she admired her handiwork. "There, as clean as I can get it. It should be OK now but if it doesn't get any better you will probably be safe to go and see a doctor. That's not advice I'm usually able to give to my patients."

"Thank you," Jack replied sincerely. If she hadn't been there he probably wouldn't have gone to a doctor or made such a thorough job of making sure the wound was clean. Of course, if she hadn't been there then he might have actually been shot, or he wouldn't have been in the path of a gunshot in the first place.

"Hm. You shouldn't go around getting shot at."

"If it was me they were shooting at."

That seemed to shock the woman. "Why would they be shooting at me?"

"You threaten police officers. I don't doubt you threaten more dangerous men."

"There's no one more dangerous than a cop, Inspector. Look at Lavinia."

Jack glanced around them. "And yet you're alone with a police officer in his house just days after she was found dead in very similar circumstances."

Phryne just smirked at what could have been a threat and then turned on her heels on a tight pivot and began to hunt around the room. She found his decanter and poured them out two glasses of his favourite whiskey. He accepted one as she sat down beside him. He took a sip and watched her as she seemed to make herself at home by his side regardless of the danger he might provide.

"I do still need to talk to you about your disappearance as well," he said at length when it became clear that she wasn't going to speak first.

"Go ahead." She leaned back in his seat, exposing the length of her neck to Jack's gaze. She was proving to be very distracting for him.

"What happened? Last you were seen you had taken your sister to school. She said you'd taken a beating from your father and had gone to find something to help it heal."

She let out a deep sigh as she started to tell him her side of the events. "I went to see if I could get something from the chemist, I didn't think I would, or failing that maybe some makeup to cover the bruising. A man came into the chemist after me. He started speaking to me, asking about my eye. He offered to buy me some ointment, that's when I became suspicious. I refused, I didn't know anything about sex then but I did know that some men did bad things to little girls. I left the shop with nothing and he followed me out. Offered to take me back to his shop, said he could make my bruises better, said he could make sure I never felt pain again. I didn't trust him so I ran. He tried to grab me but I was too quick. I didn't stop running for miles, I was practically in the country when I eventually did stop."

"I believe," Jack stated as she seemed to have finished, "that man was Murdoch Foyle. The man who gave that circus ticket to your sister. He was convicted of kidnapping another girl after you went missing. I've found three other missing girls around the same time. All of you born on the same day."

He watched her take all this in. "So, if you already know when my birthday is, can I expect a present?"

Jack couldn't quite believe how lightly she was taking all this. Anyone else would be shocked, horrified, maybe thankful at their narrow escape, not asking for birthday presents. "Miss Fisher, do you realise what a lucky escape you had from that man?"

"I've had lots of lucky escapes, Inspector."

Jack shook his head. She didn't seem to take anything seriously but he also suspected that last statement was true. "I don't have my files here. If you came to the police station and saw a photo of Foyle, do you think you'd be able to remember if it was him or not?"

"Hypothetically, yes, but I'm not going into a police station, not unless I'm in handcuffs."

Jack decided not to reply that she'd given him permission to cuff her on their first meeting, or tell her that he was sorely tempted to do so.

"Go on," he urged instead. "You ran away from Foyle but you didn't go home. What happened next?"

"I thought about going home but I'd just skipped school so that meant I'd be due another beating, or maybe Father would just lock me in a cupboard this time. I thought about going to my aunt's, she might have kept me for a couple of days but sooner or later she'd send me home. Every resting place I could think of ended with Father eventually hitting me again. So I decided to leave it. I could look after myself, so why should I go home? Once I had somewhere safe to stay I intended to go and rescue Janey, but that never happened. I was alright for a couple of years. I stole food or money, whatever I needed, slept in the driest place I could find. Then…then, as I got older, men started making comments and touching me in ways I didn't like. I'm sure you can imagine what they had in mind."

"What sort of man would prey on a poor homeless child," Jack said softly, wishing he could have protected the young Miss Fisher from the horrors of the world.

"I can't believe a police officer would be shocked by the things men do when they're certain they can get away with it," she replied, almost as if she was offended by his sympathy. "Anyway, that's when I knew it wasn't safe on the street for a girl that was becoming a woman. I thought about going to the nuns but they would only take in good girls and I could never have been a good girl even if I'd wanted to be. I used to watch the women at the Imperial Club sometimes, their dresses were so fancy and the women all looked beautiful. In the end I found the courage to go in and I spoke to Madam Lyon about how you got a job there. She gave me a wash, put me in a fresh dress and had me collecting glasses for a night, just for a few bob. I did that for a few nights and then Madam Lyon offered me a real job. She told me no girl had to do anything they didn't want to but that I would have to dress a certain way, flirt with the men and she'd get me trained up to dance for them as well. She said she understood that I'd probably had bad experiences but that being intimate with a man could be fun for the woman as well and that while she wasn't running a brothel, she said if I wanted the money the men offered for personal dances, I would be safe so long as I stayed at the club. She also said I'd need the money from the extras, as that was what the men really paid for. She was right about all of it."

She raised her eyes to Jack's and looked deep into them, as if searching for his inevitable disapproval. He didn't disapprove, not of her doing it, maybe of the men paying to sleep with the young girl who was barely old enough to have left school. Some oddly protective instinct made him reach out and squeeze her arm. She didn't complain at the touch.

"Anyway, I found my niche there I suppose. My dancing's passable although I mainly do magic tricks for entertainment instead, men still find me attractive but I'm the best shot in the place."

Jack chuckled. "You scared me. I didn't want to mess with you."

Her face grew dark. "I won't let anyone hurt my girls, Inspector. That's why I'm hoping you're the last decent copper in Melbourne. You're probably the only one I haven't seen in the club, you and that innocent young thing you brought in with you."

"Collins?" Jack smiled at the memory of his face as they'd searched the club. "He's a good policeman, just a little naive sometimes."

"Not you, though, Inspector." Phryne ran a hand down his arm. "You're not married, are you?"

"Divorced," Jack replied instantly, wishing his arm didn't tingle at her touch.

"Hmm, that explains it. You haven't embraced the single life, have you? Oh, I can see from your home that you've embraced bachelorhood, but..."

"My work keeps me busy, Miss Fisher. I have murderers to find, something I thought you approved of."

She smiled and got off the sofa in one very fluid motion. "I don't sell my body, Inspector. I have done in the past I admit, when I needed the money just to buy food, but I stopped doing that a long time ago. And just to be clear that even though some of the women there will do certain extras for a price, that is not the business of the Imperial Club. Anyway, now I just sleep with who I want, when I want."

"I thought none of you girls had to do things you didn't want to," Jack argued.

"We don't," she replied as she straddled him in one swift movement before he'd even thought to wonder about where she was going with this. "But the money can be too good to turn down. Personally, I think sex is too good to put a price on."

Her head bobbed down and before he realised what was happening, Jack felt her lips brush his, almost tentatively. He should stop this he knew but instead he pushed his face upwards, pressing his lips firmly against hers. It was all the invitation she needed as she hungrily kissed him back. She tasted surprisingly sweet for such a tough woman.

She then started gently and pleasantly moving against him where she was straddling him. Instead of stopping her like he should do, Jack put his arms around her and pulled her closer. Soon he would come to his senses and end this, he knew, but there was something about this woman. He hadn't felt this level of attraction to anyone in a very long time and it had been so long since he had been kissed like this, if ever.

He felt her hands on the waistband of his trousers and she finally pulled away from him. He looked at her through the blurry haze of lust. Her lipstick was no longer dark and clearly defined; it was either smudged or missing and he suspected that if he looked in the mirror he'd see some of it on his own face. It had only been a second since she'd stopped kissing him and he already missed her lips.

"Tell me, good cop, do you want me to stop?" she asked, teased him, letting one hand drift slightly lower. "Clearly part of you is up for more but I have no intention of being accused of assaulting a Detective Inspector."

Jack closed his eyes and gulped at the sensation of her hand on him. This was it, this was his chance. She was a woman who keenly defended consent, if he said no now he was certain she'd stop this. Except that he didn't want it to stop.

"I don't want to be one of those police officers," he managed to say. He knew there were officers on the force who thought the rules they enforced were for others and not themselves. The idea of spending the night with a lady he hardly knew, let alone a lady who worked in an establishment that was such a poorly disguised brothel that she was struggling to hide it from him, had never entered his head before this very moment.

"Oh, I know you're not," she replied, making short work of removing both sets of trousers and undergarments but leaving the rest of their clothing intact. "I told you I don't charge. Just tell me what you want."

She was straddling him again, with nothing between them now, waiting for his consent.

"I want you," he whispered.

That was all she needed to hear before making love to him.

Charging or not, the woman knew what she was doing or it really had been that long. It all became a delightful blur; there was just the sight, smell and feel of her, the pleasurable moans of her enjoying herself hopefully as much as he was before it was all over.

To his surprise, once they had finished she cuddled up to him on the sofa. He held her in his arms, pulling her tight against him. As his heart rate subsided reality dawned on him. She wasn't just a brothel worker; she was also involved in two of his current cases. He should never have slept with her. She could ruin him now. Maybe that had always been her plan but somehow the woman he now held in his arms seemed completely safe and innocent despite everything he knew about her proving the exact opposite to be true.

Staying in his embrace, she snaked a hand up under the shirt that he was still wearing, her skin warm against his bare chest, and she murmured contentedly. "I hope you enjoyed that as much as I did, Inspector."

Despite how precarious it all was, nothing jarred him as much as the woman he'd just been intimate with calling him something as impersonal as 'Inspector'.

"I think," he said softly, still waiting for her to turn on him, "considering what we've just done, you should call me Jack."

"Jack," she smiled up at him, her voice so gentle. "Then you should call me…"

Her eyes widened and Jack realised the problem. Officially she was Phryne Fisher but she'd been Peony for so long, which was her real name? He ran a hand through her silky, raven hair. "I'll call you whatever you prefer."

She smiled shyly. It was an odd sight on her and for a moment she seemed young and fragile. "I think…I think I'd like you to call me Phryne, Jack."

"Phryne," he repeated, then he pulled her face towards him and she let him kiss her again, just briefly. "You understand, Phryne, that–"

"No one can know, this can never happen again," she repeated verbatim words she'd undoubtedly heard many times before with a roll of her eyes. "I know the deal, Jack."

He smiled at her sarcastic teasing. He was almost starting to believe that this hadn't been some sinister plot of hers to be able to blackmail him. Maybe in the moment she had just wanted him the same way he had wanted her. "I don't know about it never happening again, but certainly, considering where you work, my job could be on the line if this got out."

She smirked at him and he groaned as he heard his own words back. "Oh, no. I am one of those policemen, aren't I?"

She burst out laughing and stood up. "I really don't think so, Jack. You're not taking any delight in abusing your position; you made love to me despite of who I am. Oh, it's true that no one else would see it that way but don't worry. It won't do my reputation much good if it gets out that I'm sleeping with a copper either."

She held out a hand and cautiously Jack took it, still not completely convinced that this wasn't some sort of scheme of hers. "Come on, Jack. I think after all you've been through this evening you need an early night."

It took Jack a moment to realise that she meant to join him.

TBC...