Part 7 (2/2)

'Miss Fisher, I really...'

'I know, I know,' said Phryne. 'This is quite above and beyond the call of duty. But think about it, Mr Butler, and please don't give your notice. I can't go through all that again.'

'I was about to say, Miss Fisher,' said the butler, drawing himself up to his full height, 'that if Mrs Butler and I can be of any a.s.sistance in apprehending the villain who attacked Miss Williams, you have only to ask.'

'Thank you, Mr Butler, that is very kind of you,' replied Phryne. 'If the occasion arises I shall let you know. I've left Dot in the bower, perhaps Mrs B wouldn't mind keeping an eye on her through the kitchen window? Dot hates being fussed over. And another drink for my sister and me. What's your pleasure, Eliza?'

'Just tea,' said Eliza. 'Isn't this interesting! Mabel tells me that one does not starve in Australia.'

'No,' said Phryne, accepting a gin and tonic. 'Not starve to death, not usually. Provided you're first at the pig bin you can get the best vegetables and there's usually a bit of work to be picked up here and there, but times are hard and getting harder. Food's not as dear as in England and the climate is kinder. You don't freeze to death here if you have only one blanket. You got on well with Mabel, Eliza. I was most impressed.'

Eliza blushed and ruffled her hair, a gesture Phryne remem-bered from childhood.

'Oh, well, it's the same as the East End but not so dirt poor. It's all people.'

'Eliza, why did you get sent to Australia? I've got letters from both Father and Mother today but I haven't read them yet, and I won't if you don't want me to, but can't you tell me what is going on?'

'I'd like to, Phryne, but I can't. I really can't.' Eliza's voice was strained, near to breaking point.

'Why can't you?'

'I just can't. Read the letters. Perhaps Father has told you.'

'I won't if you don't want me to,' Phryne said again.

'No,' said Eliza, and burst into tears. 'No, please don't.'

'All right,' said Phryne. 'And when you trust me again, as you used to, you shall tell me yourself. But tell me this-is it a medical problem? Would you like to see a very discreet lady doctor who is a close friend of mine?'

'No!' exclaimed Eliza. m.u.f.fling her face in her handker-chief, she upset her tea cup as she sprang to her feet and rushed out of the room.

'Sisters,' said Phryne to Mr Butler when she went into the kitchen for a dishcloth.

'I have had the same problem myself, Miss Fisher. Do allow me,' said Mr Butler as he preceded Miss Fisher to the parlour. 'In my sister's case it was religion. One of those ranting ones. Most unpleasant while it lasted.'

'What cured her?' asked Phryne, watching him remove tea from the small table with precise, economical movements, never spilling a drop on the carpet.

'She fell in love, Miss Fisher. With a most eligible young man in the s.h.i.+p's chandler's line.'

'We can hope, then,' said Phryne.

'We can always hope, Miss Fisher,' Mr Butler told her as the doorbell rang.

It was Hugh Collins in a fine state of disarray. Phryne grabbed his arm.

'Dot's all right,' she said sharply. 'But if you rush in looking like that you'll startle her and she's had enough shocks for one day. Straighten your collar, comb your hair, take a deep breath. Dot values her self control. You don't want to puncture it.'

Obedient to the voice of female authority, Hugh Collins did as he was bid. When he was the picture of a tidy young gentleman again, Mr Butler took him out to the garden and Phryne sagged back in her chair.

Mysteries all around, and now an attempted murder. Who cared that much about a man seventy years dead?

Later in the day Phryne answered the door to reveal a huge bouquet of white peonies and Lin Chung.

'Camellia sent these,' he said, handing them over. 'And I have news to relate.'

'That is very kind of Camellia. They're beautiful. I trust she is well?'

Phryne accepted the blooms and gave them to Mr Butler to arrange. She approved of Lin Chung's new wife, a Chinese widow with green fingers and perfect English. Before she married Camellia had agreed to Phryne's concubinage, and they had become friends.

'I have news to relate too,' she said. 'Sit down and let's swap.'

The conversation lasted through three cups of Chinese tea (Phryne) and a gla.s.s of lemon squash (Lin).

'How curious! You see what this attack on Miss Williams means, Phryne,' said Lin, putting a hand on Phryne's knee. She covered it with her own.

'I see that a nasty and possibly final revenge is about to be wreaked on the motorcyclist as soon as I lay hands on him,' said Phryne. 'What are you trying to say?'

'Someone must have seen us find that body. How else would they have known that Miss Williams was part of it?

Someone at Luna Park saw us talking to that stupid policeman.'

'Y-e-s,' drawled Phryne. 'It would not have been hard to find out who I was. That bone-headed cop might have told anyone who asked. And I left my card with Messrs Bennet and Dalby. What do you suggest? An employee? A visitor?'

'The only people I am sure weren't in it were the nuns and the orphans,' replied Lin, 'and that's only because they were roped together.'

'That might explain the strange messages from the mermaid. They were all in the ”beware” category, as far as memory serves. I'll ask the girls when they get home...Lord, what about the girls? Are they in danger?'

'They will be, if Miss Williams is in danger,' said Lin.

Phryne corrected him sharply. 'Will you stop calling her ”Miss Williams”? You usually call her Dot.'

'Sorry, I've spent the afternoon being excessively polite to my oldest ancestor. My great great grandfather's brother, Lin Gan. It's odd, Phryne, but I always ran away from him when I was a child because he was so censorious. Now he seems almost heroic, though all he did in the riot was to stand and stare.'

'You're not a child any more,' said Phryne. 'And perhaps he approves of you, just a little.'

'Yes,' said Lin, 'he does. Which is why I have to go to Castlemaine.'

'When?'

'Wednesday, I expect. First I must speak to the old Hu lady, then I will take the car. That will get me out of Grand-mother's way, at least.'

'And out of the firing line, with any luck,' said Phryne.

'If that is the case, then I shall not go,' said Lin. 'I can at least be as brave as my ancestor.'

<script>