Chapter 10 - Raised Suspicions

*.*.*.

Phryne trudged up the steps into the Imperial Club and was not completely surprised to see Madam Lyon waiting for her in the lobby.

Madam Lyon folded her arms and glared at her as she got inside. "Do you want to explain to me why I had to open my club with no protection for my staff and no man on the door?"

Phryne swept her hair out of her face. "Not particularly."

"Do you want me to fire you?"

Phryne paused, trying to think of a plan. She had been about to storm past Madam Lyon. She could tell by the way everyone she had passed stared at her that her trip to the station had left her in a mess and she wanted to fix it all and look beautiful again and carry on as if Jack wasn't pursuing her killer without her. She had thought her position at the Imperial Club was completely secure but then she'd also thought Madam Lyon wouldn't keep things from her. Maybe she wasn't as smart as she thought.

Phryne let out a deep sigh as she realised something resembling the truth was needed here. "I was looking for Burke."

"Did you find him?"

"No," Phryne admitted, "but don't expect him back."

"I expect him to be fired if he attempts it," Madam Lyon replied fiercely. "Just as I should fire you. You're keeping something from me."

"And what are you keeping from me?" Phryne replied hotly.

For a moment she thought Madam Lyon would slap her, but the moment passed. "Right now we are operating with next to no security, so I'm going to let that slide. You will go to your room, make yourself presentable, and then spend the rest of the night covering the front as we have no doorman. Then tomorrow, you and I will talk."

Phryne resented all of it. She considered herself to be Madam Lyon's equal but here she was talking to her like a child. She could, Phryne supposed, leave right now. She could go upstairs, pack her things and go to Jack's for the night. Then, in the morning, with her tail between her legs she could go to her aunt's and beg her and her sister to let her stay while she sorted herself out. Jack would probably insist that was exactly what she should do. However, Phryne couldn't. She was proud of all she'd accomplished on her own merits and despite owing a lot to Madam Lyon. She could have ended up just another hostess if she had only ever followed the other lady's instructions. She could have married the first man who took a liking to her and lived a comfortable existence as a wife and mother, maybe even with a maid to do the boring household tasks. She hadn't. She'd honed her skills to make herself any man's equal in a fight; she'd earnt enough money that she could survive without a husband's income, admittedly only by living onsite at the club. She owed a lot to Madam Lyon, that she would admit, but not everything.

However, Jack and Madam Lyon had both worked out one thing. She did care about the women at the club and she wouldn't leave them to be hurt by a customer because she'd left out of spite.

"Fine," she replied, then flounced up the stairs realising that despite everything, her thoughts were on Jack and what was happening at the docks.

*.*.*.

One of the first things Hugh learnt as a police officer was that innocent people didn't run. Inspector Robinson had contradicted him on that, he told him that it wasn't guilt that made people run but fear. There were many reasons people were scared of the police and guilt was just one of them.

They'd caught Burke leaving an abandoned warehouse at the docks. On spotting the car, he'd immediately run back inside and he and the Inspector had given chase. Despite being armed, Robinson never drew his gun but Hugh had and he kept it pointed at the man.

"You're under arrest, Burke!" Robinson called out to the man who'd crept out onto a metal beam, precariously balancing above a long drop to the warehouse floor. "For the murder of Sarah Holloway, also known as Lavinia."

"I don't feel sorry for that whore," Burke replied with a sneer. "She put her own at risk to make money on the side."

"And you killed her so you could frame Sanderson, who you blamed for the death of your brother."

"He killed the only family I had left."

"There's just one thing left that I don't know, Burke. And that's what became of the box."

Burke actually smiled. He was facing arrest, being shot, or a long fall to his death but he smiled at the detective as if he still had the upper hand somehow. "Sounds to me like there's a lot you don't know."

"Where is it?" Jack snapped.

"That's all you're interested in, isn't it? Extortion, blackmail. You're no better than the rest of them."

"Come back here, Burke. There's no reason for you to get hurt. If there's more going on you can tell us and that may help you when it comes to sentencing."

"No, it won't," Burke replied insistently.

Hugh watched Burke reach into his pocket, so he shakily tried to level his gun at him. He'd had all the training, of course, but he'd never shot someone before. "Get your hands out of your pocket!" he called in warning, hoping Burke would heed him so that he wouldn't have to fire his gun.

"If that's the game you're playing—"

The sound of a gunshot ricocheted around the warehouse. Burke slumped and fell, the money he was pulling out of his pocket fluttering down around him like confetti as Burke landed lifeless on the warehouse floor. Hugh looked over at Robinson who was staring at him open mouthed in shock, until the Inspector realised it hadn't been Hugh who had fired that gunshot.

Hugh had no idea when Sanderson had joined them but when he spotted him on the warehouse floor, his steady arm was still pointing up at the spot Burke had been standing in moments ago. There didn't seem to be any other officers with him, he had come alone.

Robinson ran down to Burke and Hugh joined him but it was hopeless, the man had clearly died almost instantly. Whether from the gunshot or the landing Hugh had no idea. They looked up as steady, unrushed footsteps indicated that the Deputy Commissioner had joined them.

"I thought he was armed," Sanderson said sounding completely unremorseful.

Hugh looked back at Robinson. Sanderson was the superior officer here but he had just killed a man. Hugh realised if it came to an argument, he'd back up Robinson without hesitation despite Sanderson's superiority.

Robinson himself looked unhappy. He pulled up Burke's sleeves, revealing the deep scratches on the tattooed arms that proved his guilt. One of the tattoos was relatively new.

"'In loving memory – Pete.'" Hugh read out loud.

"Murder solved, I suppose," Robinson said reluctantly.

"I was trying to save your life, Jack," Sanderson insisted.

Robinson ignored him and picked up the notes that had been in Burke's pockets. "I suppose this means he sold the box, then."

"What box?"

"I um, never got a chance to say before we left the station," Hugh stuttered, not particularly wanting to interrupt the Deputy Commissioner but really wanting the tension to go away, "but I got the information on that company for you, Inspector."

"Go on," Jack insisted.

"Owned by a Sidney Fletcher. Main import seems to be sugar."

"What does Sidney have to do with this?" Sanderson snapped.

Jack stood and dusted himself down as if he hadn't even noticed his superior's anger. "I don't know, George. An informant told us that Burke had been moonlighting for a company, for Fletcher's company apparently. They suspected that the murder of Lavinia and theft of a box from the Imperial Club might have been a job given to Burke by this company, or someone working for it."

"Jack, I assure you Sidney had nothing to do with it."

Finally Hugh remembered why Sanderson seemed to be taking it personally. Sidney Fletcher was the man who had come to his bedside with his daughter, with Inspector Robinson's former wife. Fletcher was Sanderson's godson and it seemed the new beau of his daughter. Wide-eyed, Hugh stared at Jack. Everything told him that Inspector Robinson wouldn't let the ties to himself and the Deputy Commissioner stop him from looking into Sidney Fletcher. Everything about the man who had the power to fire them both and who'd just killed a man told Hugh that pursuing this was a very dangerous idea.

"You're probably right," Jack agreed as if he'd never considered it a real possibility. "I'll still need a word with him though, George. Just a word, I promise, just to follow up on the tip."

"Of course," Sanderson replied, sounding professional again. "What was special about this box?"

Hugh himself knew nothing of this box either. He assumed this informant was the older Miss Fisher. Jack kept his face completely blank but Hugh suspected he was lying to Sanderson. "I'm not so sure, just that the staff of the Imperial Club are very keen to have it returned. I had hoped to discover why for myself, with Burke's help. We may never know now."

"Probably not," Sanderson agreed. "Don't worry, Jack, I'll sort all this out. At least you can close the file on that girl's murder."

Jack nodded. "Come on, Collins."

He turned and walked out of the warehouse. Hugh glanced at Sanderson, left with the body to sort out, then hastened after the Inspector. He stayed silent until they got into the car and closed the doors behind them, giving them something resembling a private sanctuary from the death they'd just witnesses.

"Call Fletcher when we get back to the station, Collins. Ask him to pop by tomorrow if he can, that we just have a couple of minor questions for him before we can completely close the case. Make sure he's aware it isn't an investigation into him or an official interview, just a chat. To make sure that nothing can come back on Sanderson."

Hugh nodded. "It did look like Burke could have been reaching for a gun."

"It certainly did, Collins," Jack agreed, neither one sounding completely convinced.

"Did, er, did Miss Fisher say more about the box than you let on, sir?"

Robinson tapped the steering wheel. "I'm not getting much past you, am I, Collins? She did, as it happens, but there's no point in worrying Sanderson about it. He might go at it like a bull in a china shop and we've already had two deaths in his pursuit of these clubs."

"Is the box important, sir?"

"From what Miss Fisher says, in the wrong hands it could be very bad indeed." Finally, Robinson started the car and they drove away from the warehouse. Hugh wasn't sorry to see the back of it.

*.*.*.

Phryne knew that it was a bad idea to sneak away to Jack's that night. Madam Lyon was very angry with her, running off to sleep with a man who wasn't even paying her was probably not the smartest move but she needed to know what had happened with Burke, if Jack had retrieved the box and in all honesty, she just wanted to be around him. He had a strangely calming influence on her and right now she needed some of that stability.

There was a light on in his kitchen when she got there and she found the back door unlocked so she walked straight in, locking it behind her.

He didn't look good. There was a bottle of something on the table with two glasses, one of which he had clearly already had at least one drink from. Deciding this was not a good look, Phryne said nothing even as he raised his eyes to look at her as she walked over, she simply poured herself her own drink in the glass he'd got out ready for her and sat down beside him.

"Burke's dead," he told her.

"The box?"

He shook his head. "No idea. He didn't have it with him. Judging from the money on him I assume he probably sold it on."

Phryne sighed. "Well, did he tell you anything to indicate who he might have sold it to?"

"No," Jack grouched. "I think he might have been about to say something, but…"

"He decided to kill himself instead?"

Jack tilted his head to look at her and Phryne realised he was considering how much he could tell her. Then he downed the rest of his glass. "Well, I suppose it's likely to be reported eventually. He was killed by police. It looked like he was reaching for a weapon, so it was self-defence."

"Damn," Phryne hissed. "Was it you?"

"No. Deputy Commissioner Sanderson, if you must know."

"Interesting," Phryne replied. "Do you think he killed him so he couldn't talk?"

Jack shook his head. "I've known George Sanderson a long time, Phryne. I know why you wouldn't trust him so I'm not offended by you thinking that, but trust me, he isn't like that."

"No?" Phryne asked teasingly. "Apparently neither are you and yet, here I am."

Jack almost smiled at that. "I just invited you over to fill you in on what happened, Miss Fisher."

"Did you, now?"

He groaned and leant back in his chair. "What am I missing, Phryne? Is there anything else you're keeping from me?"

Phryne smiled, stood up and walked over to him. He jumped slightly as she started to massage his tight shoulders, then he began to relax at her touch.

"I did hint, though I didn't say, that there are items relating to high ranking police officers in that box," she said softly.

"Sanderson?" Jack asked.

"No. He's not that stupid, if he has a secret lover she's not from our club. Think higher."

Jack turned to stare at her. "Commissioner Hall?!"

She shrugged. "I'm saying nothing."

"You're suggesting that Sanderson knew and that he shot Burke so that I wouldn't find out? But why?"

"I don't know that, Jack, it's just a theory. He was very determined to thoroughly search the club on that raid. Why? What was he looking for?"

She watched Jack consider it for a moment and then she saw him discard her theory. "No. No, he's a good man, Phryne. Firm, maybe harsh with criminals, but he does what he does for the greater good."

"And, if a senior officer is compromised, he might consider taking him down something worth doing for the greater good."

"But how would he even know about it?"

"That I don't know," Phryne admitted. "Does he have any connection with Lavinia maybe, or Father Blackburn? Even Burke himself?"

"I don't think so, apart from being in charge of the raid that killed Berkowicz and Burke framing Sanderson for Lavinia's murder. I do have one last lead to follow up on tomorrow, though. Burke's former boss."

"Let me know how that goes," Phryne replied, not convinced by any of it.

"Are you coming back again tomorrow night?" Jack asked jovially.

Phryne chuckled. "I don't know to be honest. I probably shouldn't be here now. Madam Lyon is not happy with me at the moment, something to do with me vanishing at the same time our doorman went missing."

Jack took her hand and squeezed it. "I'm sorry."

"Make it worth my while?" she suggested flirtatiously.

He smiled broadly as he stood, still holding her hand. "Come on, then."

TBC...