Fisher 03 Murder On The Ballarat Train by Kerry Greenwood

Author:Kerry Greenwood [Greenwood, Kerry]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 0100-12-31T23:00:00+00:00

‘Oh, Phryne, so you weren’t a dream!’ ‘Quite real and indeed palpable,’ agreed Phryne. ‘But I must get up, Lindsay darling. I’ve got things to do.’

‘Yes, I know,’ said the young man, holding her firmly and pinning her down with one knee. ‘Later.’

‘Later,’ Phryne succumbed, laughing.

Lindsay was in the bathroom, wondering which of the golden dolphin taps would yield hot water, when there was a thunderous banging at the front door, and he heard the admirable Mr Butler open it.

‘I must see Miss Henderson,’ he heard Alastair say, in a muted roar which meant that he was very angry indeed. Phryne pulled on a robe and joined him in listening. ‘Very well, sir, if you would care to wait I will ascertain if she is at home,’ Mr Butler replied.

Alastair yelled, ‘You know she’s at home!’

Mr Butler said crushingly, ‘I meant, sir, that I would find out if she is at home to you.’

There was a silence, during which they could hear feet pacing to and fro across the tiles of the landing. The door to Miss Henderson’s room opened and shut.

‘Miss Henderson will see you, sir.’

The feet ran down the hall. Phryne heard the door crash open.

‘Eunice, have you had the infernal nerve to call in the police?’ shouted Alastair, and Phryne swore.

‘Hell! Has the man no heart? What did I do with my clothes?’

She dragged on some garments and ran down the stairs, with the half-naked Lindsay close behind her.

‘Mr Thompson, I must ask you not to make such a noise!’ she said icily, and he turned on her a face white with fury.

‘You traitorous bitch! What have you done with my friend? All you women are alike—all betrayers and whores!’

He swung back his arm, meaning to slap Phryne across the face, and found himself on his knees with a terrible pain in his elbow. Miss Fisher’s face, calm and cold, was three inches from his own, and he could smell the scent of female sexuality exuding from her skin. It turned him sick.

‘Make one move and I’ll break your arm,’ said Miss Fisher flatly. ‘What do you mean, storming into my house like a bully? Call me a traitor, will you? Here is your friend. I haven’t hurt him. I have pleased him—and perhaps that’s more than you could have done, hmm? Go on. Try to hit me again.’

Lindsay, aghast, had stopped on the stairs when he realised that Phryne did not need any help. The fight was going out of Alastair. At the same time, Dot and Jane came to the front door, Miss Henderson started to cry, Mr Butler picked up the telephone to call the police and Mrs Butler appeared from the kitchen with the poker. Alastair stood up slowly, glared at Phryne, turned, and walked out of the house.

‘The fun’s over,’ said Phryne, pushing back her hair. ‘Come down, Lindsay. Mr B., shut the door, and serve some drinks. Don’t distress yourself, Miss Henderson, it’s just a brainstorm of some kind, he’ll be better tomorrow.

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