Abbotford Convent, Melbourne, late April, 1925…
The girl walked down the broad hallway at the front of the Abbey. Under most circumstances, any novitiate would be busy with chores sandwiched between prayers and Mass and more prayers. But Daphne had yet to be accepted even in that role since she was not quite of age.
As the sole orphan currently in the care of the order, nonetheless, she was permitted to stay at the abbey, and as such was allowed to retrieve the mail from the large box attached to the door. She lifted the lid and reached in, pulling out several letters and a larger envelope. A second later the letters were scattered on the floor at her feet as she trembled.
“Whatever is the matter,” she heard from off to her right. She turned slowly, all the while continuing to shake, as she found herself face to face with Sister Gertrude, one of her teachers at the school run by the order. She tried to speak, but all she managed was a barely audible whimper.
“Daphne? What is wrong,” the nun insisted, evoking a gasp as the girl pointed to the large envelope in her hand. She shook her head slowly as if to deny its very existence.
“Please, child? What’s wrong,” Sister Gertrude pleaded, her face displaying concern for the girl. Daphne moved her gaze back and forth between Sister Gertrude and the envelope, which she then released, leaving it to fall into the pile of mail at her feet.
“I….I’m sorry,” was all she could manage before she burst into tears. She went to run, but Sister Gertrude barred her way.
“There, there, dear child. Please tell me what upsets you so?” She went to embrace the girl, but Daphne pulled away and ran down the long corridor before disappearing up the back stairwell. Sister Gertrude started to follow the girl, but shook her head.
“Best to give her space,” she thought as she turned and began picking up the strewn mail. She reached down and grabbed all of the letters and laid them on a large side table by the corridor, but held the large envelope in her hand.
“What did you do?” she asked absentmindedly as she examined the envelope, as if it could answer. It was almost of a pale pink color, and it was decorated by an exquisitely drawn picture of Mary adorned with a garland of pretty flowers. Above the picture were the words “Queen of the May,” written in delicate cursive. The envelope was pretty, but barely remarkable give the time of the year.
“Hmm…” Sister Gertrude mused before turning the envelope over. As lovely as the front of the envelope was, the back was jarring. A photo of Daphne had been taped carefully to the envelope, only to be defaced by a large black ‘X’ across the girl’s face. And written in crude-looking letters were the words,
“I know who you are!” Even as she read the words aloud, the color drained from her face. A sad moment of realization, she duplicated the nervous response of the girl only minutes before and dropped the envelope. Crossing herself, she raised her head heaven-ward and silently mouthed a prayer.
“Oh dear Mary? Please help that poor child….”
At Melbourne's Women's Hospital...
Dr, Elizabeth 'Mac' McMillan and Phryne Fisher strolled almost lazily around the park-like garden next to the hospital. Mac had considered grabbing Phryne's hand just to set off a few of her stodgy colleagues, but best not to tempt fate. She paused long enough to light a cigarette, which and of itself was somewhat provocative even these progressive times.
"What was so urgent that I needed to drop everything and fly right over here?" Phryne sat down on a green wood and wrought iron bench on the cinder path. She patted the spot next to her. Mac walked over and sat down. She looked away, blowing out smoke mixed with a frustrated breath before turning to face Phryne.
"You know I'm an open book, Phryne? Least wise we've always been entirely honest?" Mac paused, hoping Phryne would ask the right questions since the truth seemed to be stuck in the back of Mac's throat. She dropped her cigarette on the ground and stubbed it out and waited for Phryne's reply.
"Don't tell me... You finally screwed up enough courage to fly to Canberra to woo that Doctor you met at the conference here last November?" Phryne arched her eyebrow a bit, revealing a tease. Mac swatted her arm playfully, but in a flash her affect turned to worry.
"I'm sorry," Phryne said rubbing Mac's arm. Do go on?"
"Well, it's not like I'm from the same mold as everyone else, but this isn't about me...mostly." Phryne nodded eagerly, urging Mac to continue.
"I have a cousin...right here in Melbourne. I never said anything because it really never came up. She's a sister at Abbotford Convent." Mac paused,
"I would never have taken you for a catholic, Mac." Phryne smiled playfully. Her friend had never really expressed a religious side but was as spiritual a soul as anyone Phryne ever knew.
"Go on...Sorry."
"It's really hard to explain why she contacted me without first telling you a secret. Why I've never talked much about her." Mac stared at Phryne as she struggled to explain.
"It's alright, Mac. Really," Phryne said as she rubbed Mac's arm once again.
"It's not at all that.... I'm not ashamed. Heaven's sake, if I'm Sapphic, what else could possibly... I love my cousin, but we keep a distance because just my mere presence in her life could muck things up for her."
"Because you're a lesbian" Phryne tilted her head slightly, suspecting that Mac's preferences were likely the least of her cousin's woes, if Mac's expression was any indicator,
"Not just that. Gertrude...Sister Gertrude's secret is enough all by itself to get her arse booted out of the order. I know I don't have to tell you that what I'm about to say goes no further than this bench, right?" Phryne nodded and Mac continued.
"When Gertrude was born? Thank god her dad never hung around after she came into this world."
"I gather he was not a nice man?" Phryne asked. Mac nodded and continued.
"When ...when she was born, it was a godsend that my other aunt and my mum helped with the delivery. At home." Mac paused. Phryne was the most progressive person she knew, but Gertrude's secret was much more surprising than Mac had ever heard of, much less seen for her own eyes.
"Gertrude...Our Trudy? She's doubly blessed and doubly cursed all at once,"
"I won't even be foolish enough to try and guess.... for your sake." Once again, Phryne rubbed Mac's arm, but then reached over and grabbed her hand, spectators be damned. Sisters often hold hands in public and Mac was just like a sister to her.
"I...I'm not ashamed of her...I just don't want to cast her in a bad light, you know?" In all the years they had known each other, Phryne knew Mac was hardly ever given to tears. This had to be very important indeed if Mac was visibly concerned.
"Now I know you aren't ashamed or fearful for yourself. I'm going to sit here and be quiet. Go ahead." Phryne squeezed Mac's hand gently. Mac smiled and spoke.
"Gertrude? Our Trudy? She was born with... She's not a woman, Phryne.... but she's not a man, either. Everything ... Nothing... She's..." Mac didn't continue. The look on her face pleaded for forgiveness that neither she nor her cousin would ever require of Phryne Fisher.
"She'll never be a mum or a dad?" Phryne asked after a few moments of Mac's quiet sobbing.
"No... She is a woman, mind you. She ...It's hard to explain." Mac sighed in frustration. Phryne patted Mac's hand.
"I take it that she's enough of a woman to remain somewhat cloistered?"
"The mother superior knew everything about Trudy and still welcomed her. Mind you, she wasn't running from anything but running to something? Someone? There's a doctor not too far from the convent who's part of the conspiracy." Mac looked away. How much longer could Sister Gertrude trust fate to keep her secret?
"You're not holding back, but I gather this is the prologue de l'acte principal?" Phryne smiled. Mac reached into her bag and produced a large pinkish envelope. She handed it to Phryne and spoke.
"Trudy...Sister Gertrude is concerned about the girl she's been helping teach. The poor thing is an orphan, which would be bad enough, but then there's this." Mac pointed to the front of the envelope; the beautiful picture of the Blessed Mary with "Queen of the May" displayed in just the same way as the picture.
"But that's barely the half of it." Mac reached into her bag and produced the photo of the girl...Daphne. The picture had fallen off the envelope but still bore the harsh X that marred the girl's face. She pointed to the angry words that were scrawled across the envelope.
"I know who you are."
"Her name is Daphne McGill...."
Mac would have continued but Phryne waved like an excited schoolgirl who knows the answer to the question her teacher just has posed to the class. If Phryne Fisher was anything other than a very attractive, intelligent, charming...and an independent woman, it was that first, last. and always, she was as brilliant a sleuth as Dupin' or Holmes. Mac nodded and Phrynne smiled.
"I'll be surprised if I'm wrong, but I gather that poor Daphne and your Trudy are quite alike? " Mac nodded and Phrynne smiled a knowing smile and spoke.
"Then it is titulaire? Incumbent that you and I help the little girl and your Trudy, Oui?" Mac smiled and nodded."
"Oui!"
The office of Reverend Mother Margaret-Andrew. Abbotford Convent…
Phryne and Mac sat across from the Reverend Mother. After a few seconds of clearing her desk, the woman smiled warmly. Phryne could not help note that the woman’s right eye tooth was bent slightly sideways and backward. It actually rendered her a bit more approachable than Phryne had anticipated.
“I say this with the utmost confidence in our dear friend Dr. Macmillan, and to you Miss Fisher as her friend that nothing we speak of here leave this hallowed place." Phryne thought it a tad ecumenical and even pious until the Reverend Mother continued.
“We view this place as sacred unto our girls. They are our charges, and as such whatever we speak of must be regarded as sacred for their sakes? I know it sounds a bit religious, but the safety and care of these precious girls is our religion.” Mac nudged Phryne as if to say, ‘sSe? She’s a good one, aye?’
“Before we go any further, I think it be best that we dispense with formalities? Out there?” She pointed to beyond her office door, as if to indicate outside the convent itself.
“Out there my title is Reverend Mother Margaret-Andrew, but in here my family and friends still call me Sister Maggie, okay?”
“I detect a wee bit of a burr. Edinburgh?” Phryne smiled.
“Dalmeny. Good ear.”
“Many…aren’t members of your order expected to assume a male…an apostle’s name as your first name?”
“Well, they let me in early. When I was before the bishop I was crying like a wee bairn. He asked me why I was crying. ‘They say I can’t be named after Margaret, my Grandmum. She raised me after my mum passed.’ He winks at me and says,’ Even our Lord had a grandmum. Margaret it is!’”
She sighed and stared at a pile of correspondence on her desk and her mood changed from lighthearted to sober in a heartbeat.
“I cannot begin to express how desperately worried we are for our Daphne. What must be going through her mind? She has barely spoken, even to Sister Gertrude.” She shook her head and nodded at Mac.
“We found another note Monday in the mail box. No name or anything else but for this.” She handed the envelope to Mac, who opened it and showed it to Phryne.
Another picture of Daphne, likely a copy of the first picture, with the girl's face crudely 'x'ed out and the same handwriting almost emblazoned on the back.
Volo mori "Yes...'I want to die.'" Sister Maggie sighed deeply and produced yet another envelope. She handed it to Phryne.
“Oh…” Mac exclaimed. Her love of language had begun long before she became a doctor, but even though she was entirely versed in Latin, the phrase written on the back of the third picture was like nothing she had ever read.
“Utinam mortui!” Mac shook her head. Phryne , on the other hand, just breathed out and spoke.
“'I wish YOU were dead?' I gather you have not shown this to the girl?” She smiled even as Sister Maggie nodded.
“She may be a small girl, but she’s almost fifteen. With her family’s resources she may even have learned a bit of Latin before she was brought here.”
“I gather the family has left you in charge?” Phryne’s ironic tone was accompanied by a slight raise of her left eyebrow.
“Now Phryne,” Mac shook her head, but the Reverend Mother raised her hand slightly in caution as she grinned.
“I daresay you would have discovered it on your own, given what Mac has said about you.” She received the envelopes back from them and placed them on her desk next to a folder.
“To answer the question you have yet to ask, the reason Daphne is here is because for all intents and purposes, she has been abandoned by her family. At least thank God it wasn't some place foreign to her. She was already a student when she was put ashore on our little island here.”
“La fille bâtard ?“
“ Yes, poor thing. Her father lost his wife. Rather than seek out someone to help him raise the younger of his children he sought comfort for himself alone. The girl’s mother died giving her birth. I suppose that Arthur finally got his priorities at least a bit straighter when he brought the girl to live with the family.
“The McGill family?” Phryne said with a shake of her head.
“Not the nicest man I’ve ever met.”
“It was tenuous at best. From what Daphne told Sister Gertrude when she arrived, the teasing was horrible, especially from the younger sister Hortense. The brothers were no better. She seemed to have an ally in the older sister Gladys, but when Arthur and Gladys' husband died in that horrible automobile accident, Gladys’ went into a funk. Daphne lost any connection when Arthur died, and it wasn’t too long after that she came here.”
“How many siblings are there?” Mac asked, but the Reverend laughed softly and gazed at Phryne.
“I am well aware that you do your homework. Care to answer our good doctor here?” At the word ‘doctor,’ Phryne detected a slight upturn of the Reverend mother’s lip. She ‘filed it away,’ so to speak.
“Gladys Hill 'nee McGill, thirty-three, widowed, no children. Her husband Allan died in that accident along with her father three years ago. Arthur Jr. 31, never married, runs the Maxwell business.” Phryne seemed almost serene, but for a growing frown that crept in.
“Calvin, 26, terrible accident when he was 11. Unmarried. Stays with Gladys now that she has returned to the family household. Hortense, 19. Studying at St Aloysius, lives at home. “
“Miss Fisher?” Sister Maggie said quietly.
“No, I haven’t forgotten. Robert, would have been 26. Calvin’s twin. He perished eight years ago in a horrific automobile accident just like his father. although the talk, sadly at the time, was that he was distraught. That he may...I’m sorry. I presume too much.” Phryne said.
“There is an abundance of mercy available to those who are blessed enough to discover it, Miss Fisher.”
“Certement,” Phryne replied.
Sister Maggie spoke.
"The very worst part of it? The ceremony in the photos? Queen of the May? It’s not the girl but the Blessed Mother who’s the Queen.” Mac glanced at Phryne, who was never one for a specific faith, much less the Church of Rome.
“Unlike some orders and parishes, the girls here are all equal. No single honoree, every year, every girl lays a single flower at the shrine as their way of remembering not only the Holy Mother but all mothers.” Sister Maggie sighed as she glanced at the picture on her desk of her own mother.
“Arthur … he and Allan were hurrying from some meeting just so he could be there to see Daphne? They never made it, as you already know. So the cruel twisting of that special day by the picture? Some things almost..almost cannot be forgiven.” She glanced once more at her mother’s picture and spoke.
“I can make arrangements for you to speak to Daphne, Miss Fisher? Lunch here tomorrow? Less formal and perhaps less threatening?”
“That would be fine. I hope as well to find a means to speak to her siblings?”
“They have not been told the details, but we have made it clear that there are matters to discuss regarding Daphne, since she remains their ward even as she remains also in our care. Perhaps the day after tomorrow?” She rose and walked around her desk. Phryne and Mac got up and both offered their hands, which Sister Maggie shook in turn.
“I am confident that you will arrive very shortly at an answer to this poor girl’s woes?”
“Yes, immo carus quod sic mulier.” Phryne began to walk out even as Mac stepped closer to the Reverend Mother.
“We’ll keep in touch.”
“I like her, Lizzy.”
“Sadly, I'm not her type.” Mac laughed softly before hurrying to catch up with Phryne.
“I like her, Mac.” Phryne said with a slight raise of her right eyebrow.”
“Sadly she's no longer my type, but I do love her dearly. You’re sharp as a tack, Phryne. Nothing gets by you.”
“I should hope not, at least for our poor Daphne’s sake.”
“Do you think you will get to the bottom of all this?”
“Oui en effet cher docteur En fait, je crois que je l'ai déjà!
“My French is rusty, Phryne. What?”
“I believe I know who the Provocateur might be.”
Miss Fisher’s home that evening…
“Jane? Do you have a moment to spare,” Phryne asked as her ward passed by the parlor. Without a word, she walked in and sat down and tilted her head in question.
“I have a favour to ask that only you can accomplish.” The girl sat up, hoping for some intriguing task or mysterious errand.
“Before I ask, you must know that everything we do…yes, we is for the benefit of others. Even the mysteries we unravel. The searches for truth we undertake are to help someone. Our raison d’etre.”
“Our purpose?”
“There is someone who vitally needs your help.”
“I don’t feel so….After my mum and all, what can I do? I’m not all that smart.”
“You are smart. Very smart. But I need you…she needs you. Because you care, Jane.” Phryne smiled at the girl and continued.
“Of course, I’m sure I can rely on you if I need to tap into your viewpoint… la perpective, Oui?”
“Oui.”
“I will let you know, but I am ever confident in you, Jane dear.”
“Be…because I care?”
“Yes, dear child. Especially because you care.
The following morning…in front of Miss Fisher’s home.
Try as they might, even when Bert and Cec attempted to look idle, they always seemed busy and anxious. Both stood at the gate to the front fence. Phryne walked out and waved at them.
“Tailing a suspect in the plans today?” Cec asked with a grin.
“She doesn’t look like she’s got…Nothing urgent?” Bert asked and Phryne replied.
“Direly so, friend.” She used her arm in a broad gesture to point to her Hispano-Suiza parked in front of the house.
“I’m meeting someone for lunch, and immediately following I might need you to bring them back here. To that end, do play careful at the pub until after your task? At least one of you should be in some reasonable condition to drive, yes?”
“Yes, of course,” they practically said in unison. The trick at one time might have been to see which one would drink less, as it were, but they were as professional as anyone when it came to doing anything on her behalf.
“I’ll ring the pub about one or so with directions?”
“Yes.”
The dining room of the Reverend Mother’s quarters…
Lunch was simple with soup and sandwiches. Phryne sat next to Mac at the large oblong table. The Reverend Mother …Sister Maggie ...sat to Phryne’s right at the head of the table, and Daphne sat next to Sister Gertrude. Most of the meal was filled with small talk until Daphne spoke up.
“You…you’re here because of…” She turned slightly and faced Mac.
“Gert…Sister Gert says you know that….” She looked down at her body.
“I was a little girl when Gerty was born. I was there…” Mac tried to manage a smile even if it left them both still feeling awkward. Daphne faced Phryne.
“Then you know about me too?” Her face began to redden.
“Yes, Daphne. I do.” Phryne managed a smile that diffused the awkwardness in the room for everybody,
“I am very glad to make your acquaintance, young Lady. I hope I can be of help?”
“You…you just don’t understand. Gert..Sister Gertrude and I…” She shook her head as tears fell.
“Yes I do.” Phryne turned slightly and faced Sister Gertrude, whose own face had begun to darken with shame.
“Everything I have heard about you…” she paused, but intentionally did not name her.
“Everything I have learned about you speaks of character and courage. And the devotion and care you have offered, certainly to all the girls, but especially to the sweet girl to your right?”
“It says….’comfort others with the same comfort you yourselves have received,’” Sister Maggie smiled at Sister Gertrude and Daphne. Sister Gertrude could not have expressed any greater humility if she tried, and she began to weep softly as tears fell into her lap.
Daphne shook her head.
“You don’t understand. None of you understands.”
“Wh…what don’t we understand, Daphne?” Mac reached across the narrow table and touched the girl’s hand. Daphne recoiled in horror.
“It’s all my fault. All of it.” She got up and began pacing around in circles, her arms flailing until she began to hit herself in the chest.
“My fault! My fault. Daddy. Uncle Allan. Mummy. Uh…. Uncle Robert. They’re all dead because I killed them. Me. My fault.” By now she was sobbing hysterically. Sister Gertrude jumped to her feet and hugged the girl.
“No, Daphne. No.” She held the girl fast and began to kiss her cheek. It would have seemed almost inappropriate even if the woman wasn’t a nun, but every bit of that poor tortured child needed someone to love her exactly like how she needed to be loved from the day she was born.
But at that moment she wasn’t able to receive anything but the condemnation she had buried in her heart. She pulled away and grabbed a butter knife from the table and began to try to cut her wrists, all the while echoing the cruel taunt from the message she was never meant to read,
“Volo fui mortuus est”
Mac jumped up and wrenched the knife from Daphne’s hand. She had cut her wrist, but the wound was shallow. Even still, the girl collapsed in Sister Gertrude’s arms' both falling to the floor as Daphne rocked back and forth while she sobbed,
“I wish I were dead…I wish I were dead.”
A short while later in Daphne’s room…
"I’ve given her something to help her sleep.” Mac shook her head.
“What do you suppose…what thing could possibly have made her feel this way?”
“One minute, Mac?” Phryne paused and looked around until she spotted Sister Maggie comnforting Sister Gertrude . She motioned and Sister Maggie walked over after a quick hug..
“It is absolutely imperative that I speak with the family tomorrow."
“I will explain that there has been an accident…no details. I’ll make that happen…Their home?”
“It will leave them at ease…more’s the better.” Phryne smiled and picked up the phone.
“Hello? Can you connect me with Lonnigan’s Pub? Yes, I’ll wait.” In a minute she was speaking with the barkeep, who in turn handed the phone to Cec.
“Change of plans. Instead of one package to my house I need you to pick up two by three…?” She glanced at Sister Maggie, and received an emphatic thumbs up
By three. I’ll see you at my place tomorrow no later than one…yes. Yes, you can take the rest of the day off to recover from your arduous toils.” She hung up the phone and sighed, Mac walked back over from Daphne’s bed, where the girl was asleep at last.
“What in heaven’s name would drive that poor girl to hate herself so much?”
“Not what, but who, Mac.”
“Can you really be so certain of whom you suspect? What can this girl possibly hope for, Phryne?”
“She failed… She did not succeed in fulfilling her tormentor’s intent. She is alive.” Mac stared at her and she continued.
“Aegroto dum anima est, spes est.”
“Ah….Mac smiled .Indeed…Where there is life there is always hope.
Early the next morning at the Convent…
Phryne and Mac stood off a bit to the side in the outer office, watching Daphne seated at a large table, fairly engrossed in applying colorful crayons to a “Through the Looking Glass” coloring book. Sister Gertrude sat next to her, head tilted slightly, her hand gesturing toward the book.
“Mac? Does it strike you as queer that she has recovered so quickly from before? It’s as if yesterday didn’t happen.”
“From what I know about trauma, it may be her only way of coping.” Mac turned and faced Sister Maggie.
“Any disappointment or even hurt is met with a resolve, as if she just wills it away. But it must be unbearable to hold that all in. God bless her heart.”
Uncharacteristically, Mac shook her head as if to pray away the girl’s pain.
“May I talk with her?” Phryne asked, and Sister Maggie nodded.
As she approached, she heard Sister Gertrude speaking in a soothing tone to the girl.
“I love the colors you’ve chosen. You’ve really captured the spirit of the story.” Phryne smiled to herself, appreciating the irony of how the girl…both actually… how they were lost like Alice in a world completely hostile and foreign to them. She waved slightly and gained their attention.
“Miss Daphne? Good morning. May I speak with you for a moment?” The girl’s face reddened, and Sister Gertrude raised her hand in caution. The girl patted her on the arm.
“It’s alright. I’m quite okay….Really.” Her growing smile quickly disarmed Sister Gertrude’s concerns. Nevertheless, Phryne added,
“If you have a few moments as well?” Phryne did not wait for an answer, but quickly drew up a chair and sat down.
“I wanted to ask a few questions, but only if you’re up to it?” Sister Gertrude raised her hand once again, but Daphne smiled.
“I…Miss Fisher? I trust you… I like your smile,” she remarked, evoking an even more welcoming grin from Phryne.
“Thank you. I value your trust. Anything you wish to tell me?”
“I… I saw the envelopes. I read them but put them back in the mailbox…” she turned to Sister Gertrude.
“I didn’t want to worry you or Sister Maggie.”
“I…We worry all the time,” Sister Gertrude shook her head.
“I can’t even begin to understand how much the world has place on both your shoulders,” Phryne said, deliberately placing her hand on Sister Gertrude’s arm. She winced a bit, but did not withdraw.
“If it was just me…alone? But she’s …” Gertrude used her eyes to indicate Daphne, who by now had returned her attention to her coloring.
“Daphne?” Phryne said softly.
“Yes, Miss Fisher?” The girl spoke without raising her head.
“I suspect you can do several things at once. Perhaps you might continue to color but answer or add anything as we talk?”
“Yes,” she nodded and reached for a light blue crayon.
“Tenniel’s drawings are mostly in pen and ink. Alice doesn’t always wear a blue pinnie, you know? But I love this shade.” Daphne raised her head and displayed the drawing.
“I agree with Sister Gertrude. Your use of colors…the shading…the suble nuance of your use of hues.” Phryne remarked, but intentionally provoked the moment and added..
“Such a clever girl.
“I’m not a girl, Miss Fisher,” Daphne said quietly as she returned her attention once again to the coloring. Sister Gertrude went to correct her, but Phryne held up her hand in caution. The gesture was missed by Daphne but received by the nun.
“Au, Contraire, Daphne. You are both very clever and very much, how to say…” Phryne appeared paused in though, but actually already had planned what to say even before she had arrived that morning at the convent.
“Vous êtes certainement une fille," she said with a smile, which was still on display when the girl raised her head once again.
"Je ne serai jamais une fille. " She began to weep, laying her head on her arms
'on the table. It was entirely vital that it was a stranger who reinforced the validity of who Daphne was, since any compliment or encouragement Sister Gertrude or even Sister Maggie might be perceived as almost obligatory.
"You most definitely are a girl, my dear young lady. I see nothing to convince me otherwise. A dear sweet girl."
"I… " Daphne gasped, almost in surrender to the truth of Phryne’s words.
Phrynne faced Sister Getrude and spoke.
"Après tout? Nous sommes des femmes, n'est-ce pas?" Sister Getrude’s head shook only a bit even as her own tears added to the Daphne’s.
"Oui, Gertrude. Nous sommes des femmes."
“I need to make a call,” Phryne said as she patted Sister Gertrude’s arm before standing up and walking over to Mac.
“Another change of plans?” Mac smiled. As stubborn as Phryne could be at times, she also was one of the most reasonably flexible persons Mac had ever met.
“A minor adjustment before the storm that approaches.” Phryne actually looked out of the large window. The skies were clear, but the tempest that loomed at the McGill residence promised to be dark and threatening.
“Jane? Are Bert and Cec leaning against the front fence? Could you call them to the phone please? Yes. I haven’t forgotten…Yes… I’m looking forward to … Of course, dear girl. I have every confidence in you!” Phryne waited a few moments until she heard Bert on the phone.
“Be a dear and just wait for my call? Yes…indeed another change of plans. Ask Mr. Butler to…oh?” She turned to Mac and laughed.
“Mr. Butler already fed the men, so they should be up to the task. She spoke into the phone once again.
“You may indulge at Lonnigans if and when our plans change once again, but I expect at least one of you fit enough to drive if the situation demands it…Yes… I’ll call you…Thank you...May I speak to Jane once again?” She waited only a few moments.
“Would you be a dear and go to my closet and gather the light grey dress and everything…yes…” She turned once again to Mac and laughed.
“Even in our enlightened age, a sophisticated woman of the world such as I has not been able to help my talented ward get beyond the use of the word unmentionables.
“Well, of late, I haven’t had much need to talk about them, Phryne . Only remove or put them on as the moment might require. “ She didn’t need to nudge Phryne her elbow, since her wry grin communicated her intent. Phryne smiled in return before returning her attention to the phone.
“Just talking with Mac...Yes? Oh and do grab the two garment bags from the closet as well? No…Everything is included. Yes… Very good…” Phryne almost smiled into the receiver, so to speak.
“Now Jane? For me? Say it once and there’s an extra Shilling in your allowance…Yes, you may tell Cec and Bert I’ll call them, but that they…They’re off outside? Good… go ahead…yes, dear girl…just the once…” She listened and smiled as she heard the word.
“There’s a good girl. Yes. I’ll call you. And Jane? I don’t say this nearly enough,” Phryne said as she glanced back at Daphne and Sister Gertrude.
“I am so glad you grace my life.” She waited and sighed before hanging up the phone. She turned to Mac and touched the brim of her imaginary deerstalker hat and said with only a slight laugh,
“A bribe, perhaps, but the dear girl finally said the word brassiere." Mac nudged her elbow ever so slightly and used her glance to indicate Sister Maggie’s presence.
“S'il vous plaît, pardonnez-moi?” Phryne was more embarrassed for the nun than herself, of course, but Mac laughed. Sister Maggie , for her part, smiled and answered,
“Bien sûr,” but quickly added in a decidedly thicker burr,
“I have had breasts since I was ten, Miss Fisher,” she said with a wry smile. Mac tilted her head and duplicated the grin as if to remind Phryne that Sister Maggie had a life before the convent. Phryne nodded with a knowing grin of her own.
“We will be meeting with Daphne’s family in about an hour,” she said to Sister Maggie.
“I’ve made the arrangements for my ward Jane to visit, as we discussed. I expect things might get a bit teary before they get better.” Sister Maggie nodded in reply, but added.
“I’ve been hoping for a day like today,” she sighed as she turned and looked at Daphne and Sister Gertrude. The two seemed to be in a somewhat animated discussion as Daphne pushed the coloring book toward Sister Gertrude and pointed to the pile of crayons on the table, as if to say, ‘your turn.’
“Indeed, for both?” Phryne asked,
“Yes, Miss Fisher. Indeed. I will see to the arrangements for the visit.” Sister Maggie squeezed Mac’s hand and walked out. Mac shrugged.
“Before you say a word, I already told you…”
“Yes, Mac. I know. I just think that Sister Maggie may be the most intriguing woman of the cloth I’ve ever met.”
“She’s unique. A bit quirky. But one of the kindest persons to grace my life….” She laughed softly but added,
“Present company included, of course.”
“Certainement cher ami."
Phryne took one last look at Daphne and Sister Gertrude and spoke.
“Shall we be off? The game’s afoot…my dear Doctor Mackensie.”
The McGill Estate, shortly thereafter…
All of the pleasantries had been dispensed with, for the most part. Like a scene from a melodrama at the Swanston, all of the characters in Phryne’s théâtre de mystère were gathered in what could actually be described as a Sitting Room, although some of the actors seemed to prefer to stand.
Arthur McGill Jr. seemed to be the focal point, standing in the middle of the room almost demanding attention. Calvin took note of Phryne and Mac before sitting down at the large table by the window, returning to a jigsaw puzzle he had nearly completed. Gladys stepped close and offered Phryne and Mac each a seat, which they declined, leaving Arthur looking a bit put out. Gladys remained standing. Hortense sat on a wide sofa ; holding some needlework, which she promptly set aside.
"Just what is this all about ? Arthur demanded; going so far as to point at Phryne.
"Miss Fisher is here because there has been an incident at the school with Daphne." Gladys Hill spoke almost in a sing-song.
"Why wasn’t I consulted, sister dear ?" he said.
"You’re being consulted now, Arthur." She nodded at Phryne as if to cue the next line of the play.
"Someone." she began, but paused as she scanned the room. Dupin would be proud, she thought.
"Someone sent these in the post." She produced the three envelopes.
"What in blazes has this to do with us ?" Arthur snapped at her. Phryne considered offering a retort, but she just pointed at the pictures of Daphne ; all ‘ex-ed’ out, along with the notes.
"May…may I see those ?" Hortense, the youngest of the McGill family spoke almost in a whisper.
"You don’t need to see this. It’s too…" Arthur went to continue but Hortense frowned.
"You’ve never thought to protect your sisters’ sensibilities before, Arthur, so why start now ? Please go ahead, " Gladys said. Phryne walked to where Hortense sat and showed her the pictures and notes.
"Oh…. " She put her hand to her face.
"See ? That’s enough, Miss Fisher, " Arthur went to pull the offensive material from his sister’s hands and she held tight.
"‘I wish I were dead ?’ I don’y know how many times I’ve said that to myself, Miss Fisher. " She placed everything on the table next to the sofa and began to sob.
"See what you’ve done ? You need to leave now," Arthur went to walk up to Phryne but Gladys stepped between them.
"She’ll do nothing of the sort. " She grabbed Hortense’s hands and spoke softly.
"It ends today, Sia ? Alright ?" Hortense wiped her eyes with a hankie and stood.
"I hated Daphne. I just…. Before she came I was the darling of my Daddy. " She almost sounded like a little girl already, but her voice cracked and she gasped.
"He turned all of his attention to her… She was the favourite and I was cast aside."
"She took your place ?" Phryne knew exactly what the girl meant and had hoped she would take it no further for her sake, but the secrets of the family had already led to shame. Nothing Hortense could say would change the harm Arthur had visited upon his children but perhaps her words would help begin to heal them.
"I had… I had a special place in Daddy’s heart… »
"So you were spoiled ? So what?" Arthur practically sneered.
"Spoiled ? Yes…. He spoiled me…. " She walked over to her brother and began to pound on his chest until Gladys pulled her away gently. Gladys glared at her brother and spoke.
"You don’t get it. He paid careful attention to her…. Too much attention, Arthur !" Gladys pulled Hortense closer and the girl spoke.
"When you took Daphne under your wing after Daddy died, you…. It was like I had no one. Mummy was gone and you were like some mother hen to her. I… Every chance I got, I made sure… "
Mac looked around the room and then at Phryne, who simply nodded.
"You were no longer needed. He moved on. He began to hurt her the way he hurt you ?" Mac said as she drew close to both women. Hortense tried to speak but the words would not come. She could only nod before burying her face in her sister’s sleeve.
"Now see here. You can ‘t talk about my…our father like that. I won’t stand for it." Arthur once again went to confront Phryne but Gladys released Hortense and slapped Arthur.
"You sanctimonious little… Hortense wasn’t Daddy ‘s first…. You forget that Mummy was sick for a very long time. " She put her hand to her face.
"Our father was an evil man, Miss Fisher. That’s all I will say," She looked at Phryne and then at Mac, who nodded. It was all Gladys would say just then in the company of strangers and her brothers.
"I… the note ?" Hortense pointed to the second note.
Velim fui mortuus She began to shake.
“Robert wrote this.”
“That’s absurd. He….”
“Robert and I shared secrets, Arthur. No one knew…” Hortense looked to Gladys, who shook her head. Even she wasn’t privy to everything dark and hidden away.
“He had been out drinking. At sixteen? I was in a more conciliatory mood and was in Daphne’s room brushing her hair of all things. She got up and walked over to her closet and pulled out a nightie. We…Gladys and I knew at least back then that she was different.
She began to strip and was about to put the nightgown on when Robert came barging in. He must have gotten turned around in the hallway, because he looked at me and Daphne.
“’What are you doing in my room?’ he shouted. I was startled of course, but Daphne was so surprised that she froze. The nightie fell to the floor and Robert just stood and stared. I told him to leave, but he just kept standing there and all of a sudden he began to cry… Not a drunken jag. He was sad and maybe even horrified. I jumped up and covered Daphne and he ran from the room.” She looked once again to Gladys, whose expression indicated surprise.
“Robert came to my room a few day’s later. ‘Sissy? Can I come in?” At the word ‘Sissy,’ Calvin lifted his attention from the jigsaw puzzle on the table and spoke.
“Sissy? Robby sad. Wouldn’t say…Had to talk.” Calvin turned and faced Gladys.
“You… Uncle Allan and you were … Sy…Sydney. Wouldn’t tell me. Gotta talk to Sissy.” He smiled.
“I did good?” No one spoke and Phryne waved to get his attention.
“You did very good.” She smiled and he smiled back before returning his attention to the puzzle.
“Robby… Robert was so creative. That,” Hortense pointed to the envelopes on the table.
“His way of dealing with what he had seen.”
“Why would he say that about him…” Gladys began to speak but her face went almost ashen. She looked at Hortense and raised her hands slightly in a plea.
“This is just foolish. My brother was a drunk! He didn’t know what day it was by the time…”
“Go ahead, Arthur. Say it. An accident? No, Arthur. Robby killed himself. He was stone cold sober when he took the car out that day. I…”
“What, Hortense? It’s alright. Please?” Gladys embraced her sister once again.
“Don’t you get it? Robby and Daphne shared more than just Daddy’s last name. He… “ She began to weep and Gladys spoke.
“I…I knew. Mummy swore me to secrecy. She had the maid and the midwife paid off. Robby…Robert is…was…” Gladys gasped at the finality of the word. After a few moments she continued.
“He was caught between two worlds… No one to love him. Mummy refused him any affection. But I suppose ..” She held Hortense at arms’ length and the girl spoke.
“Until that day in the bedroom, he never knew he wasn’t alone. He…he showed me. I tried, Gee,”she said to her sister.
“I could never say enough to him about… It was only after he died that I realized how horrible Mummy had treated him…” She turned and faced Mac.
“And then how I treated Daphne.” She then turned to Phryne.
“I…I am so ashamed. I …She paused before uttering the same evil words from the card.
“Velim fui mortuus.”
“No, Sia…please?” Gladys pulled her close once again. The room became quiet until Calvin arose from the table. He walked over to his sisters and spoke.
“Gee sad…Sissy sad… My fault.”
“No, Cal…not your fault…no,” Gladys said.
“I…” He stopped suddenly and walked to the table and brushed his hand through the pile until he picked up one of the envelopes.
“U…ti…nam mor..too…eee.” He said haltingly as he stared at the card.
“Calvin? What did you do?” Hortense said it slowly and calmly, almost as if she was asking her brother what puzzle he had worked on or if he had fed the cat. Calvin pointed to the card and spoke.
“I…I wrote that…”
Everyone looked aghast at Calvin. Had he wanted Robert to die? Was he capable of such anger and even thoughts of revenge for a childhood playtime gone horribly wrong?”
“See what you’ve stirred up, you…” Arthur began but Hortense broke free from her sister’s embrace and kicked her brother in the shins much like the little girl she had remained in so many ways. She ran to Calvin and grabbed both his hands. Phryne nodded almost in approval, as if Holmes and Watson had orchestrated the scene.
“Cally? Tell me. Okay? Don’t be scared?” She sat him down on the sofa.
“Why did you write this?” These?”
“Don’t hit me…” He covered his head with his hands.
“No…No…No Cally. Not hit…It’s okay?
“Not you Sissy.” He peeked through the spaces of his fingers like a child playing hide and seek.
“Miss Fisher? I demand you leave this instant,” Arthur shouted as he limped over to the table and sat down. Phryne just offered a Cheshire Cat like smile before walking over to Calvin.
“You did good, Calvin,” she said, repeating her compliment from before.
“Would you like to play a game?” she asked as she drew up a chair and sat down across from Calvin and Hortense.
“Oh what fun. Cally? A game. Do let’s play? Please?” Hortense nodded at Phryne.
“O…Okay.”
“This is such a wonderful drawing, Calvin,” Phryne pointed to the writing. Not merely written, but colored with pencils set off by a contrasting background. It almost looked like…”
“Calvin? Do you know what this means?” She carefully repeated the phrase,
Utinam mortui non
“I…I…I wish you were dead?” He seemed to be confused.
“You copied this?” Phryne quickly added,
“Such a clever young man.” He beamed with pride and relief, finally lowering his hands.
“Robby said it all the time,” Hortense gasped. “I caught him looking in the large mirror over the mantle,” she said, pointing to the mirror on the far wall.
“He turned to me the first time I heard him,” she sobbed.
“I…I should have stopped him. I should have said something.” Phryne turned and looked at Mac, who spoke calmly.
“My dear child? You had no way of knowing. How old were you when he first said it? After he saw Daphne?”
“No…long before that. He had just come down the hall from Mother’s room. He had been crying.
“’Mummy hates me….She hates me.’ Was all he could say until he calmed down. I asked him what did Mummy say. He….” She buried her face in Calvin’s shoulder and wept.
“It’s…it’s okay. Sissy. I love you…”
“This is ridiculous. My brother drank himself to a very early grave.” Arthur stood up and began to walk toward the three. Gladys stepped in front of him, barring his way. She leaned close.
“Tell them, Arthur. I know it was you. Just like Daddy.”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking...” He never finished his sentence as Gladys slapped him again with enough force to send him sprawling into a chair.
“Our sentinel. Daddy trained you well, brother mine,” she said the endearment with as much sarcasm she could manage in the midst of the sadness that threatened to hush her.
“He stood guard?” Phryne asked. She had sensed it all along, and now it was almost impossible to keep quiet. Nevertheless Arthur stood up once again and headed to the table. He picked up the phone.
“I am calling my solicitor. I want you out of my house now.” Gladys grabbed the phone from his hand and threw it blindly. It sailed across the room and struck the mirror, shattering it.
“Sit down, Arthur or by all that is holy?” Arthur slunk back to the chair and sat down.
“Daddy never let us see Mummy after she got really sick. He insisted she did not have the strength. But…”
“Daddy said….” Calvin spoke up. All eyes faced him as he frowned.
“Daddy said Gee was a bad girl. That Mummy didn’t like her anymore. Sissy was a har…” Hortense looked shocked; not at what Calvin was saying but that he knew about it in the first place.
“He loved me and hated me? He told me Mummy hated what I did to him. What I did to him?”
Phryne stood up and walked to Gladys and in an entirely un-Phryne-like gesture, embraced her before turning slowly to face Arthur. She quickly walked back and sat down.
“Calvin? Do you like this game?” She asked even as she grabbed his right hand; squeezing it in assurance.
“No! Sissy sad. Gee sad. My fault,” he repeated the recrimination from earlier. He grabbed the note and tore it in half.
“Why? Why?” He stared at Arthur.
“Artie? Why?”
“What? I don’t know what you’re talking about!” He looked at Phryne, as if to set aside the past half-hour of animosity in some misguided appeal.
“He’s been daft ever since Robby pushed him off the wall.” Phryne shook her head and spoke calmly.
“He’s not daft, Mr. McGill.” She grinned at him and continued.
“And I suspect as much that Robby didn’t push his brother that day?”
She stood up once again and spoke.
“Another game, Calvin? Let’s all play, shall we?”
“Oh, May I play too,” Mac piped up.
“Oh yes, my good Doctor MacKenzie! What fun?” It took all Mac could do to keep from laughing until she realized what Phryne was driving at. She nodded, realizing that the next few moments, as healing as they might become, were not going to be fun at all.
“Won’t you join in?” Phryne smiled at Calvin.
“Can Gee and Sissy play too?” Phryne forced a smile. Whatever the next few minutes might reveal, she still was reluctant but sadly acknowledged an old saying that came to her just before they arrived at the Estate; that sometimes you do have to be cruel to be kind.
“Of course, but only if you say please?” Phryne smiled at Calvin.
“Please?” He turned to Hortense and then to Gladys; both sisters looking more like little girls than women at least in their expressions, but both nodded. Arthur on the other hand remained almost put out, but with some anger that seemed to be just under the surface.
“Wonderful!” Mac clapped her hands. Phryne raised an eyebrow in reply before continuing.
“Alright! This is a guessing game. I will try to say what you’re thinking, and you tell me by raising your hand for yes. Doctor Mackenzie? Will you help?”
“Of Course!” Phryne smiled, but underneath she feared this could all backfire. If she had been a praying woman, this certainly qualified as needing some intervention, divine or otherwise.
“Alright? The first question is for everyone? I think that all of you like ice cream, yes?”
Everyone except Arthur raised their hand. Hortense shook her head, wondering just what Phryne was driving at. Gladys tilted her head and a look of horror mixed with sad acknowledgement grew as Phryne asked the next question.
“I think….” She shot a glance at Mac. Even a look or a frown might serve to take the place of an un-raised hand. Mac nodded.
“I think that none of you talked much at all with your mother after she grew sick?” Calvin’s hand shot up. Hortense lowered her face a bit but did not raise her hand. Arthur essentially ignored Phryne. Mac used her eyes to direct Phryne’s attention to Gladys, who by now had covered her face with both hands.
“Good…You are all doing so smashingly! Next question. To the girls. Did your Daddy ever tell you your Mummy hated you?” Mac shook her head no. Calvin looked disappointed since the question didn’t include him.
“Yehhhs…. Both McGill sisters raised their hands while speaking in an almost sad duet.
“May I ask a question, Miss Fisher?”Mac asked. Phryne nodded.
“To everyone? You never actually heard your Mother…. Mummy never told you she hated you, did she.” Before anyone could answer, Arthur jumped out of the chair and walked up to Mac; his fists balled in rage. She merely smiled and continued.
“Your mother never told you anything because you weren’t allowed to see her, yes?” Calvin raised his hand once again, but with decidedly less enthusiasm. Hortense began to sob. Gladys remained standing almost stock still but for a tremor that took both of her hands. Mac nodded and Phryne spoke.
“One question for Calvin? Why did Robby give you the note to copy? It’s done so nice, and I bet he trusted you with a secret too?” Phryne gazed at Mac who in turn looked at Arthur. More than just a bit put out, he pivoted and walked straight toward Calvin, who smiled proudly at his brother.
“It’s okay, Artie… I didn’t…. “
“Shut up, you stupid, stupid…” Arthur didn’t finish because Gladys walked over and spun him around, planting one last slap to his face, sending him into the small table next to the sofa with a crash.
“Daddy…And Arthur.” They told me.” Gladys stood over her brother and kicked him in the side, evoking a wince.
“You told me Mummy hated me…hated Sia…hated Robby. It was you!” She turned away into Mac’s welcoming hug. Hortense stood up and shook her head almost violently; sending tears flying off her face.
“I went to my Mother’s funeral … It was you?” Hortense went to kick Arthur but Calvin stopped her.
“No, Sissy…No…” He led her over to an arm chair on the other side of the room. He turned and smiled, and Phryne nodded.
“Calvin? I think you are doing an excellent job. One more question for you?” Phryne looked down at Arthur before continuing.
“I think I know what the secret is. It’s okay. The Name of the Game is No More Secrets, okay?” He nodded enthusiastically. Arthur got to his feet and spoke.
“I swear to God, Calvin! If you say another word?” He went to grab Calvin’s shirt but Hortense tripped him and he fell to the floor.
“Robby hated himself. He hated himself so much that he wanted everyone to know. Why did Robby hate himself, Calvin?”
“Artie said,” Calvin paused and looked down at his brother.
“Artie said that Mummy hated Robby ‘cause he was…”
“Don’t you dare, Calvin!” Arthur went to protest but Hortense succeeded this time and kicked him in the ribs. She glared at her brother even as tears her literally spilled onto him. She smiled weakly at Calvin.
‘”It’s okay. Cally.” She turned to Phryne as if to ask permission for what she was about to say.
“Mummy…I…think? She would never…I believed all the lies! Do you see, Miss Fisher, why I hate myself so much? Mummy never got to talk to us…to see us…hold us… because that’s what Daddy wanted….what Arthur wanted. I know what word they said she used…what they both said to Daphne as well, I’ll bet. Abomination. I should have said something!”
“You were just a child, Miss McGill.” Phryne stepped close. She turned to Calvin.
“Go ahead…Next answer wins the game. What was the secret?” He looked down at Arthur and spoke,
“Robby said that Arthur told him,” Calvin looked down at Arthur one last time, seeking the approval that would never come.
“Robby said that Arthur told him it was his fault that Mummy died. It was his fault…all of it.” Even as he spoke, Phryne’s eyes widened in recognition. She resisted the urge to kick Arthur McGill Jr. herself and instead glared at him and spoke.
“You said the exact same thing to Daphne, didn’t you?” She shook her head and sighed. Calvin nodded at her words, knowing his brother perhaps better than anyone else in the room. Nevertheless, he smiled at Arthur and spoke.
“I did good, didn’t I, Artie?” Arthur glowered before getting up; slapping Calvin’s proffered hand. He shook his head and stormed out of the room. Mac suppressed a laugh even as Phryne could not contain herself, speaking almost in a lilt as she said at last,”
“You did very, very good, Calvin McGill. Very good, indeed.”
A short while later…
Phryne stood face to face with Gladys and nodded as the woman spoke.
“Mummy… She was so frail. I…Daddy said…” She shook her head at the thought.
“How could I be so stupid? He…They lied to us. Oh poor Robby. Poor Sia,” she used the endearment as she gazed over where Hortense sat; Mac had pulled up a chair and was listening intently as well. Gladys stared at the doorway through which her brother had fled only a short while ago.
“I…I wonder what Daddy must have done? If he did so much harm to Sia…to Cally? To…Robby?” Phryne nodded once again, but put her hand on the woman’s wrist.
“What about you? He hurt you all? Yet you and your brother there and your sister? They never hurt anyone?” Phryne said the last bit louder than she had intended and Hortense looked up and shook her head. She spoke from across the room loud enough for everyone to hear.
“How can you say that? I hurt Daphne.” She practically jumped to her feet and walked swiftly across the room; talking as she strode.
“I hurt my sister. I never helped Robby. I barely have been a sister to Cally,” she said, pointing to Calvin who by now had returned to his Jigsaw puzzle.
“I hurt you too, Gee. I hated you when you took Daphne under your wing. How can you ever forgive me? How can Daphne? How can I forgive myself.”
“The first step is taken, Miss McGill,” Mac said from behind as she walked over to where they stood.
“That you know how horrible you had been…” Mac used her arm in a broad gesture.”
“Can…” Gladys began even as Phryne stepped aside.
“Can you forgive me, Sia? I was … there was never any reason to abandon you. I could have loved you still. I am so sorry…” Gladys put her head down, but Hortense pulled her close.
“I…I think we both need to see our baby sister, Gee? Maybe that’s where it all starts?”
Phryne breathed out a relieved sigh and looked at both sisters, who returned her expression with gazes that almost plead for forgiveness.
“I believe that is a good first step, ladies. If I may, I have a suggestion that might help both of you?” She nodded to Mac, who in turn spoke.
“Miss Fisher? Would you like me to make that call we discussed?” Mac asked, knowing full well Phryne was already making yet another change in the day’s plans.
“Oh, thank you, but there are a few things I need to tell Jane? Mrs. Hill?” Phryne made it a point to address Gladys with her married name; yet another loss due to the selfish, rash behavior of their father. She put her hand to her face and gasped.
“No one has used that name in years. I….”
“My brother-in-law was a good man,” Hortense said with a sigh. We….Gladys?” She looked at her sister again, pleading for forgiveness as if the young teenage girl should somehow have prevented the accident that took the lives of her father and her sister’s husband.
“Thank you, Miss Fisher...that was very kind. There is a phone in the study,” she said as she stared at the phone lying in the shards of the broken mirror.
“I….” She went to continue, but the events of the morning were too much to bear and she began to sob even as her legs grew weak. Two strong hands gripped her by the elbows and guided her to the sofa. She turned to find Calvin smiling broadly.
“I help Gee!” He said as he sat her down; his face awash with his own tears as he took his place beside her. Hortense walked over and sat on her sister’s side; She reached around and patted Calvin on the shoulder.
“Gee hurt… sorry. Should have said…” She fell into his arms and wept. Phryne tilted her head slightly and her left eyebrow raised only slightly in question.
“Calvin?” She spoke as she approached the two.
“Yes? Can we play another game?” He wiped his tears with his sleeve and his smile returned.
“Yes, perhaps later? Do you know how to fix cars?”
“No!” He practically snapped at her.
“Artie says I’m stupid. He tried to teach me. I’m so stupid.”
“No, Calvin. You’re clever. I’ll even bet you know who fixed Robby’s car and your father’s car?”
“I’m st…stupid. Artie wanted help but I couldn’t. ‘Play with your stupid bloody puzzles.’” Calvin actually sounded exactly like his brother.
“So… Arthur fixed the cars all by himself? With no one to help?”
“He told Mr. Blake to go away. Just Artie. He fixed the cars.” Calvin assumed his now go-to expression and smiled.
“I help, M.. Miss Fi...Fisher?”
“Yes, indeed.” Phryne said as she turned away. She sighed. Arthur McGill Jr. was a loathsome man, and up to that point she bore him no ill will, But in that moment her eyes flashed briefly with anger as she surveyed the room.
Calvin was innocent enough that he would never understand what he had just revealed. But Mac knew instantly and her look of disgust mirrored Phryne’s. Gladys and Hortense shared a look as well as an overwhelming sense of sadness crashed hard into outrage and even horror at the betrayals visited upon the house of McGill. It was too much for both and they leaned against Calvin and sobbed.
“Another call, Phryne?”Mac asked.
“Yes, Mac. I’ll see to them both. Do…” She looked at the siblings. Hortense and Gladys clung to the only truly innocent soul. Calvin was crying, but it was frightfully clear that he had no idea why he was crying other than repeating,
“Gee sad…Sissy sad…”
Mac nodded at Phryne and grabbed a pitcher of water from the table along with three glasses. She poured the water and urged the three to drink. Gladys shook her head at first but relented. Hortense grabbed the glass and downed it quickly, only to hurt the glass against the wall where it shattered. Calvin sipped the water slowly before smiling weakly at Mac.
“I help? I do good?”
“Yes, Calvin,” Mac said even as her eyes began to mist.
“You did very good.”
Phryne stood at the large oak desk in the study with telephone in hand. In a few moments, she had made her first connection.
“Jane, dear? That errand you are to run? Yes…another change of plans. I’ve rung up Mother Superior at the convent. She has two friends of mine who will be visiting you there in about an hour. Do remove all…yes, that’s excellent. In the bedroom just to the back. On the bed?”
She paused. The morning had promised beforehand to be challenging, but the whole day was proving to be more than arduous. A respite from the day’s events was just what the doctor had ordered, to recall a phrase.
“Yes, dear. A party of sort that I so desperately wish will…. Yes, Jane. A very sad morning indeed. I trust that between you and Mac and me, we might just see this family… What? Of course. I believe in you, dear girl. Believe in yourself.” She sighed. Such a tremendous responsibility just to be herself. If Phryne had learned anything about her ward, it was that Jane was a survivor. And that alone gave her the means to help Daphne and maybe even others as well.
“I already talked to the lads. Cec said they should arrive there just about in time for tea. Yes. Good thought. You know where …yes…in the cabinet under the Victrola. Yes…soft and airy. Lord knows it’s been too heavy by half again for them. Yes. And Jane? I’m sorry I teased earlier. You’re alright? Well then, I shall see you at about four or so? Just a few more phone calls. I… I love you too.”
Phryne wasn’t one to dwell on the past, but the cruelty of Arthur McGill, Jr. was all too reminiscent of the loss of her sister. She gasped at the memory and choked back a sob. Much too much to attend for the present, but she would slow down sometime in the next several hours, and that would be enough. She took a deep breath and made another call.
“Hello? Would you please ring Detective Robinson? Yes, I’ll wait.” She blew out a breath and shook her head. Whatever remained in upheaval and whatever wounds needed healing, one thing was settled in her mind. It was entirely clear that Arthur McGill Jr., along with the untold and horrible deeds that were laid bare only a short while ago, was first, last, and always an evil man who had manipulated his sisters and brothers.
But worse than that, as horrible as those things were? He had murdered his father and and his sister’s husband, and perhaps saddest of all, his brother Robby.
And now? Arthur McGill, Jr. was a murderer with nothing left to lose.
Miss Fisher’s Home, 4:46 pm…
Jane? Do be a dear and ask Mr. Butler for more tea?” The girl nodded and rose. Walking to the hallway, she practically stumbled. Mac glanced at Phryne and shrugged. Phryne smiled back and spoke,
“Mrs. Hill? I’m so glad you and Hortense agreed to this meeting,” she said as she used her arm in a broad gesture to indicate her company.
“It’s likely going to be very helpful for you and her and Daphne moving forward? A réconciliation depuis longtemps?”
“Not long enough, you meddling fool,” the voice came from the hallway. Arthur McGill Jr. stood at the doorway to the sitting room. He had a pistol in his hand and held it to Jane’s head.
“You ruined everything, you sanctimonious cunt!” He shoved Jane rudely, leaving her to stumble and fall to the floor.
“Ow,” Jane exclaimed in a most unladylike manner, but oddly fortuitous in that it distracted Arthur enough that he missed the three pistols trained on him, Phryne opted to allow her ‘guests’ the privilege of wielding weapons as she just calmly sipped the remains of her tea.
“Arthur McGill…JUNIOR,” Inspector Jack Robinson rose from the settee and pointed his pistol at Arthur with his right hand whilst brushing a stray hair from his face from the wig he wore.
“You are under arrest for the murders of Arthur McGill Senior, Allan Hill, and Robert McGill.
“Jane” stood up and wrenched the Enfield revolver from Arthur’s hands. A moment later Arthur was in cuffs and being led outside by two uniformed Constables.
“Good show,” Mac teased as Constable Hugo Johnstone-Burt took no time at all to cast aside the wig he had been wearing. He turned a bright red.
“Will that be all, Inspector?” he asked Jack.
“Quite.” The three other disguised constables beat a hasty retreat as the curtain slowly descended on the petti drame as Phryne had called the set up.
“Just what made you so sure he would show up?” Jack asked.
“Arthur is nothing else if at first he is a manipulative arrogant martinet. The set-up was Jane’s idea, by the way. Clever girl.”
“How did you manage to lure him here when he had already fled?”
“Oh, the estate is huge, and he never left. I surmised as much when Gladys…Mrs. Hill suggested I use the other phone. In a house so large I could not imagine them having only two telephones. I made a point to announce my intentions to call you, expecting he was lurking somewhere close,” she said.
“He had no idea I called you just prior to our arrival.”
“Yes, Your Jane handed me an envelope with instructions as she was leaving with your lads.”
“I worked out rather smashingly, don’t you think?
“Well yes, good show and all that but would you at least keep me informed before the fact next time?”
He shook his head, resigned to the idea that as long as there was even a hint of crime Phryne would be on the case, as it were. Much to his chagrin, there always would be a net time.
Phryne stepped close and eyed the frock Jack wore; Lilac with just a hint of lace.
“You know, Jackie darling? I could get used to this,” She said as she grabbed both of his hands in hers. His face turned crimson in a thrice and he pulled away.
“I find it strangely appealing,” Mac said as she rose from her vantage point in the corner. She walked casually by the two and laughed softly.
“But I suppose that’s just me? I’ll meet you at the convent, Phryne.” She touched Jack’s face.
“Yes…strangely appealing.”
“I’m sorry for the tease… well…only a bit.” She laughed and grabbed him by the arm.
“Let’s get you sorted out, Inspector. You can change back into your clothes. It wouldn’t do for you to show up in a frock back at the station.” She laughed.
“What’s so funny?”
“I do believe that Lilac is your color?”
The dining room of the Reverend Mother’s quarters, a short while later…
Like days before, everyone was gathered at the large dining table, but with two others.
“I…: Hortense went to place her hand on Daphne’s arm, but pulled back. She went to stand.
“I have no business asking for anything.” Daphne grabbed her hand and pulled her back into the chair.
“I wish you were dead,” Daphne said in an almost monotone, leaving her sister feeling more condemned than ever until Hortense saw the tears welling in Daphne’s eyes.
“I used to go into the girls’ room at the school and stare at the mirror.
I… I must have said that a million times.” She shook her head.
"You told her?" Hortense went to stand up once again, but Daphne held fast; her eyes pleading foir understanding and for forgiveness that was never required.
“I’m sorry,” Phryne apologized. “But you’re where you’re at today because someone told you something horrible to hurt you. I am sorry if I have somehow breached a confidence, but she needed...you all need to be on the same page… A sad example of esprit de corps, I suppose, but you three were hurt so much. Your brother literally drove you apart.” Hortense gasped and once again went to stand, but her other arm was grabbed as an unfamiliar face confronted her.
“I know about rejection, Miss McGill. Your sister is all too accustomed with it as well,” Sister Gertrude said as she looked past Hortense to Daphne’s loving gaze.
“Daddy made it a point…” Daphne began but started to sob. After a few moments of comforting stares by all the women at the table she continued.
“He said he got …tired of you. That it was my turn.” She gasped as she noticed Gladys lower her head.
“He said it was my fault that my mother died. That I was …”
“An abomination?” Gladys looked up and half smiled.
“I feel like every day I tried to build you up….both of you?” She glanced back and forth between Daphne and Hortense.
“He would get you alone…the same way he…” She glanced down at herself and bit her lip as tears fell from her face.
“It was like nothing I could say would help because he was nothing but a destroyer. He tore down every bit of what we had gained. And when he and Allan died, I just gave up. My love…” She began to sob, and in a moment was held in comfort.
Hortense and Daphne looked at each other and then to Gladys; held in the embrace of whom some would call a ‘woman of sorrows, well-acquainted with grief,” to paraphrase the prophet. Sister Gertrude was stooped next to Gladys; her arms holding the sobbing woman. Jane joined her quickly and grasped Sister Gertrude’s hand. Phryne stood up and nodded to Mac, who arose as well.
“Sister Maggie? That idea we discussed? Perhaps we might talk further? But we shall take leave of you all. Mac nodded and spoke.
“I’m off to Sydney for just a few days, but if there’s anything I can do? Please don’t hesitate to ring me up?”
“I’ll be back tomorrow to see some things sorted out, if I may continue to offer my help?”
“But of course,” Sister Maggie rose and shook Phryne’s and Mac’s hands. Jane had been quiet up to that point. She went to stand, but Phryne waved her off.
‘No, dear girl. I’m sure these ladies have already grown to appreciate your company. I can have Bert come round in a while?”
“Perhaps Miss Jane might be persuaded to stay?” Gladys stammered. She ignored the hankie in her hand and wiped her face with her sleeve.
“We… It was hard getting started …talking? Your ward was so welcoming and thoughtful?” She glanced at Jane who had begun to blush. Hortense waved at Phryne.
“I wasn’t prepared at all for this and Jane simply took my hand and placed it in Daphne’s. I would have almost believed it was just her trying to move things along but for the embrace she gave us both and the tears that fell from her face.” Daphne merely nodded in agreement.
“Then perhaps an overnight? Sister Maggie?”
“Yes..a splendid idea.” She turned her attention to Sister Gertrude.
“Of course you’ll be included.” Sister Gertrude went to protest but Sister Maggie would have none of that and neither did Gladys.
“I cannot imagine how much worse,,,, NO. I will instead be thankful for all of the love you gave our sister when we were so…..”
“Yes,” Hortense spoke,
“But… I have only one request? On behalf of all of us?” Sister Gertrude practically cringed until Daphne spoke up.
“I told Hortense…Sia…and Gladys…Gee?” Gladys nodded and smiled.
“You must let us all call you Gerty, okay?” She looked to Sister Maggie who laughed softly and spoke,
“Ainm cho math…” All eyes turned to her and she smiled.
“Oh… Gerty… such a fine name.”
At the station house two days later…
Dot stood at the counter. Constable Johnstone-Burt looked increasingly uncomfortable.
“I go away for a few days and I miss a murder mystery and your foray into the theater arts? A frock? Did you at least insist on your favourite colour?” He turned a bright red and she laughed.
“Oh, yes. Crimson. That’s a lovely colour.” Just then Jack and Phryne walked into the room.
"As you were, Constable," Jack said, surpressing a laugh. He walked into his office with Phryne holding his hand, Closing the door behind her, Phryne faced him as he spoke.
“I suppose it will take a bit of sorting out, but Arthur McGill Jr. will be spending a considerable amount of his wretched life behind bars,” Jack said. Phryne sighed. Nothing he would suffer would ever make up for the evil he visited upon his own family.
“Still, if there truly is both justice and an afterlife?” She sighed, once again recalling her sister.
“The McGill women…all three, thankfully, have chosen to sell the company. They intend to use the estate to open up a refuge for women in crisis. I’m sad to say that they will enjoy all too much patronage of their services." Jack frowned at the last of her words.
Here’s a nice bit of news I rather suppose?" Phryne almost paused for effect.
"Sister Gertrude? She’s left the order.”
“That sounds a bit drastic, Phryne.” Jack protested.
“Not at all. She’s been encouraged to pick up the dual mantles of director of the refuge and honorary McGill sister. Mac will be so thrilled that Gerty has finally found the home she’d been looking for.”
Phryne made a mental note to remind Jane that it was her suggestion, since Gertrude…Gerty had done such a heartwarming job of preparing the soil of reconciliation in Daphne. Clever girl, that Jane.
“So, Inspector Jack Thompson,” Phryne leaned close and straightened his tie.
“Diinner at Marcel’s? Any requests?”
“Just one thing, Miss Fisher?” He leaned even closer and whispered,
“Wear anything but Lilac.”
Characters derived or inspired by the Miss Fisher Murder Mysteries novels written by Kerry Greenwood and by the ABC television series of the same name.
Theme music composed by Greg J. Walker
