Chapter 9 – Sightings and Vanishings

*.*.*.

Hugh looked up from the desk as Jack Robinson entered the police station the next morning. The Inspector had been acting very strangely the last few days. When Hugh had started in this position he'd found Jack Robinson to be a very dour, old fashioned officer. He didn't join in with social events or discuss personal matters. He'd heard rumours that he was related to the Deputy Commissioner but Hugh had never seen any hint of favouritism there. What he did see was a good and dedicated policeman and the more Hugh got to know him the more he wanted to be like him, if maybe a little more approachable.

The first personal thing of Inspector Robinson's he learnt was about his divorce and even that Robinson hadn't announced, he'd just let Hugh know which court house he was visiting in case he was needed.

That changed only a few days ago when his former wife had turned up asking for Jack's help. Inspector Robinson had let Hugh know who she was, both to him and Deputy Commissioner Sanderson. Hugh had been surprised when Jack had taken over the case. That hadn't seemed right when it involved his own family but Hugh trusted him, he knew he'd do a proper investigation regardless of any personal involvement.

Then there was the elder Miss Fisher.

Hugh had tried not to look at the ladies at the Imperial Club. His mother could have been dancing there and he wouldn't have noticed, not that Mrs Collins would ever do such a thing. He certainly wouldn't have noticed the passing similarity of one of the women there to Miss Janey Fisher. He supposed that was why Robinson was the better officer. Hugh didn't understand why he hadn't forced Phryne Fisher back home instead of leaving her there in that place. He definitely didn't understand why he was now taking her to crime scenes and there was something else about him since he'd met her. Hugh couldn't put his finger on it exactly; he just seemed slightly less dour.

"Morning Collins," Inspector Robinson greeted as he hung up his hat and coat.

"Morning, sir."

"Anything new since last night?"

Hugh fumbled with his notebook. "No, sir, not with the murder. We have had a message from the Stanley house. An intruder has been seen on the grounds again."

Robinson had been about to go into his office but he pivoted on the spot to look at Hugh. "Foyle?"

"That's who they're worried it might be, yes."

Hugh swore Robinson smirked. "Well, why don't you go and speak to the household, see what information you can get. Then, when you get back, I want you to look into a company for me. SWF Imports."

"Sir?"

For a man who kept an extraordinarily straight face, Hugh was always surprised by how much a twitch of his eyebrow gave Robinson away. He was keeping something back. "They may have a connection to our murderer."

Hugh picked up his notebook and crossed Jack's path as he went to the exit to follow his orders. At least his orders might lead to him seeing the lovely Dottie Williams again. He had managed to work up the courage to ask her to see a film with him and another time she let him take her for a walk along the beach. Maybe this time he could ask her out for a meal. "Sir, what do I say about Miss Fisher?"

"Sorry?"

Hugh shifted from foot to foot. "The older one. I know she's been working with you, sir, and Miss Williams says Miss Fisher is so upset that her sister doesn't want to see her…"

"Say nothing, Collins."

"But –"

"I know it's hard. I want to reunite them too but I do understand. The elder Miss Fisher hasn't lived the life her sister has and Miss Janey Fisher might be horrified at what Miss Phryne Fisher has done."

"Like work in a brothel, sir?"

Jack nodded slightly. "Like that, Collins, yes. If they ask you can assure them that she's well but you can't discuss any more than that with them."

"And yet you spent all day with her," Collins muttered, hoping Robinson couldn't hear him. Dottie had been so upset for her mistress and Janey Fisher seemed so lovely and Phryne Fisher, well, just seemed like another hostess to Hugh.

"What was that, Collins?" Robinson snapped, clearly with better hearing that Hugh had given him credit for.

Hugh straightened up, not wanting to offend the Inspector. "No, sir, I didn't mean…I wasn't implying anything wrong or…I just meant it's unfair that she'll speak to us, well you, but not her sister."

Jack tapped his fingers against his office door, probably wondering how best to reprimand his insubordinate constable. "Getting Miss Fisher to open up isn't exactly easy, Collins. The reason I've spent time with her is because she's helping with Lavinia's murder."

"Yes, I can see that, sir, but…"

"There are no buts, Collins. She feels responsible for those women so she wants this killer caught as much as we do. She's proved very useful so far, when she has opened up a bit. I might even be winning her trust and if I can get her to trust me, then maybe I can persuade her to leave the Imperial Club and go home to her family."

Collins nodded. "I hope you manage it, sir, I think it would be best for all of them. And, for the record, I know you wouldn't…but other people might think that –"

"Yes, I know Collins," Jack replied with a heavy sigh. "But you know none of those women are bad. It's a way for them to earn some money and keep some independence. They didn't have the privileges Janey Fisher did."

"Phryne Fisher did, sir, the exact same ones."

To Collins' surprise, Jack smiled fondly at his argument. "Not exactly, Collins. She left home before they had any money and, most importantly, Phryne Fisher didn't have a big sister protecting her from the worst of her father."

Collins looked at his boss, confused. He understood him working with her, he almost understood why someone would be attracted to her but other than good looks she seemed to have all the warmth and compassion of a rusty spike on a cold Winter's day. Yet Jack Robinson seemed to have taken to her in a way Collins had never seen him take to anyone before.

Hugh simply nodded and left the station, not wanting to push it any further. He felt certain Jack Robinson wouldn't pay Phryne Fisher for her attentions but he decided he didn't want to risk discovering that he had started to develop feelings for her.

*.*.*.

As she usually did before opening, Phryne made her way through the club to make sure everything was in place. The women were in their dressing room preparing for the night, the bar staff busy getting drinks ready. Madam Lyon was supervising setting up the musicians in the lounge. Everything was as it should be.

Until Phryne bumped into Father Blackburn on the stairs.

His eyes widened in fear. They had crossed paths numerous times before and she had pretty much convinced the priest she was some kind of demon by this stage of their relationship. He had certainly given up trying to save her.

"I, um…" he stuttered.

Phryne pushed past him down to the entrance hall, not needing to hear his excuses. She knew exactly why he was here. "How did you get in?"

"There's no one on the door," Father Blackburn replied, sounding surprised. He actually followed Phryne back to the entrance as if they were associates rather than, well, enemy was a strong word. To Phryne he was just an annoyance.

"Damn it," she muttered. She then turned on Blackburn. "Tell me exactly what you wanted with Lavinia."

"To save her; to save all of you."

"Do I look like I need saving?"

Blackburn clutched his Bible as if it could save him from her temper. "If you would just accept God–"

He couldn't say any more as Phryne had him up against the wall by his throat. "How were you going to save all of us?"

He spluttered, physically unable to answer her question.

"Did Lavinia tell you about the box?"

He nodded and Phryne finally let him go so he could speak. He breathed in a few deep lungfuls of air as his nursed his throat before finally risking speech. "We were going to take it to the papers, get the place shut down and the deviants who visit here publicly punished."

"I see. And what then? All these women who rely on the money to survive? Those with nowhere else to go, would you feel happier knowing they were starving on the streets?"

"If they came to the church –"

"They'd be sent away in disgrace as fallen women."

"Not by me," Father Blackburn insisted and Phryne found herself believing him. Doubtless Jack Robinson's bad influence.

"Then why are you waiting?"

Father Blackburn finally had enough breath to stand upright. "Wait, you mean it's gone?"

"And you don't have it."

For a moment the pair stared at each other as they both realised they'd been beaten by a third party. Where was Burke?

"Father, I need you to mind the door for me. Try not to scare the punters off. I have something I need to do."

She ran up the stairs, leaving Father Blackburn complaining behind her. She didn't really care if he frightened them all away tonight; that might make her job easier in the long run if she didn't have to hunt down Burke and deal with overly amorous lechers at the same time.

She found Lola still applying her makeup before going to work.

"Lola, where's Maurie?"

There were other girls in the room. Lola put down her lipstick and took Phryne out into the corridor so as not to be overheard.

"Look, I know what you told him about his other work."

"I don't care about that!" Phryne exclaimed. "Just tell me where he is."

"It's over," Lola insisted, bravely defending her man and still obviously completely in the dark that her lover had killed her friend, "but he had to go to the docks to collect the payment for what he's already done. He should be back before we officially open."

"Damn, damn, damn," Phryne exclaimed. "I've got Father Blackburn downstairs and no one to take over for me and I have to go!"

"You can't leave! Not if Maurie's not here, who'll protect us?"

"You," Phryne suddenly decided, "and that tall waiter, Freddy. You take him and wait in reception until I get back. Don't tell Madam Lyon that I've gone."

"Don't tell her? Peony!"

"Please, Lola, trust me. I'll be back as soon as I can."

Phryne said no more, having no time to argue with the woman. Instead she turned and ran back down the stairs assuming Lola would follow her orders, although not necessarily her orders to not tell Madam Lyon. Father Blackburn tried to intercept her as she reached the foot of the staircase but she kept running.

"I've organised someone to take over from you," she yelled at the complaining priest as she ran out of the building.

*.*.*.

Jack sat at his desk, sifting through the paperwork. There had to be something he was missing. Sadly, if he didn't find it soon he was going to have to arrest Burke for Lavinia's murder. He decided to put it off until Collins came through with the information on the company in case that opened up this new avenue that Phryne was convinced existed but until then…

The door to his office burst open and Phryne practically fell onto his desk, with Collins following right behind her fruitlessly repeating "Miss" over and over again.

"Burke's gone!" Phryne gasped, clearly out of breath from her haste to get here.

"What?" Jack asked, standing.

She was dressed for business, her usual business, but panting heavily. Her hair had been messed up by the wind and she had mascara clinging round her eyes that had presumably once been carefully applied to her eyelashes. Had she run the entire way from the club?

"He's gone to collect payment from the docks. Lavinia was going to give the box to Blackburn but he doesn't have it. She wasn't in on whatever this is, it's all Burke and he's gone to sell the box!"

For a second Jack wanted to strangle her. He didn't care about her stupid box; he just wanted to catch the murderer which he only put off because Phryne insisted there was a bigger story to the murder. It didn't seem that way now.

"Fine. Collins call Sanderson for backup, get him to meet us at the docks. Phryne, go back to work."

She actually did stomp her foot this time. "What? You're not leaving me behind!"

"What use are you going to be in that dress and those heels?"

She drew out her gun. "What about this?"

"Put that away," he hissed. Luckily Collins had gone to call for backup as soon as Jack had given him the instructions to do so which meant Jack was the only one who saw the weapon.

"But –!"

"Phryne, I can't take you with us while you're dressed up like, sorry, but like a prostitute. Now, unless you have a change of clothes with you…"

"Surely you have spare clothes lying around. You know I don't mind wearing trousers."

"I am not putting you in a police uniform," Jack replied, horrified at the notion.

He watched her face as she tried to formulate a response; she clearly hadn't registered exactly what sort of spare clothes would be available in a police station. He took the opportunity to grab his hat and coat in her uncharacteristic silence.

"You've done the right thing, Phryne. Now go back to your girls. What if we're too late?"

"I suppose…" she sounded deflated.

Jack looked about. For the moment they were alone, so he gently took her arm. "Trust me."

She sighed and then nodded with an annoyed roll of her eyes. "I suppose I'm going to have to."

Jack raised an eyebrow. "I'll see you later?"

She almost smiled and she held his hand a little too long as she removed it from her arm. "I need to find out what happens somehow."

He nodded in understanding. "Hopefully this won't end with us raiding your club. Come on Collins."

Hugh had reappeared with two guns and the keys to the car. Jack had to hope he'd spotted nothing between him and Phryne Fisher.

"What do you mean, 'hopefully'?" Phryne yelled after them as they ran out of the station.

TBC...