Death by Water
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Praise for Kerry Greenwood’s Phryne Fisher series
‘Miss Fisher is a remarkable and engaging creature who can solve whodunits as easily as if she were the naughty niece of Miss Marple and, when action is called for, handles herself like a cross between Xena and Buffy.’ —
Sydney Morning Herald
‘Greenwood’s prose has a dagger in its garter; her hero is raunchy and promiscuous in the best sense.’ —
Weekend Australian
‘Manners and attitude maketh the PI, and Phryne is, as always, perfect.’ —
The Book Bulletin
‘Greenwood weaves a web of intrigue that unfolds against a backdrop of sophistication and glamour, then moves to a great climax.’
—
Melbourne Weekly
‘Greenwood again sweeps readers up into milieus as glamorous and colourful as her heroine, while keeping us guessing until the end.’ —
Sunday Times
‘Independent, wealthy, spirited and possessed of an uninhibited style that makes everyone move out of her way and stand gawking for a full five minutes after she walks by—Phryne Fisher is a woman who gets what she wants and has the good sense to enjoy every minute of it!’ —
Geelong Times
‘Greenwood works a kind of elevated language, made accessible and realistic—and awfully funny.’ —
Weekend Australian
‘Greenwood’s strength lies in her ability to create characters that are wholly satisfying: the bad guys are bad, and the good guys are great.’ —
Vogue
‘Fisher is a sexy, sassy and singularly modish character. Her 1920s Melbourne is racy, liberal and a city where crime occurs on its shadowy, largely unlit streets.’ —
Canberra Times
‘Snappy one-liners and the ability to fight like a wildcat are appeal-ing in a central character.’ —
City Weekly
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page ii KERRY GREENWOOD is the author of thirty-one novels and the editor of two collections.
Previous novels in the Phryne Fisher series are
Cocaine Blues
,
Flying too High
,
Murder on the
Ballarat Train
,
Death at Victoria Dock
,
The
Green Mill Murder
,
Blood and Circuses
,
Ruddy
Gore
,
Urn Burial, Raisins and Almonds
,
Death
Before Wicket
,
Away with the Fairies
,
Murder in
Montparnasse
,
The Castlemaine Murders
and
Queen of the Flowers
. She is also the author of a new crime series featuring Corinna Chap-man, baker and reluctant investigator, as well as several books for young adults. Kerry is the holder of the Ned Kelly Lifetime Achievement Award 2003.
When she is not writing Kerry is an advo-cate in Magistrates’ Courts for the Legal Aid Commission. She is not married, has no children and lives with a registered Wizard.
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page iii DEATH BY
WATER
A Phryne Fisher
Mystery
Kerry Greenwood
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page iv Lyrics on pp. 102 and 104 are from ‘Ten Cents A Dance’ by Richard Rodgers/Lorenz Hart
© 1930 (renewed) Warner Bros Inc./Williamson Music Inc. For Australia and New Zealand: Warner/Chappell Music Australia Pty Ltd (ABN 63 000 876 068) 39 Albany Street, Crows Nest NSW 2065. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Unauthorised reproduction illegal; on p. 218 from ‘Who’, words and music by Jerome Kern/Oscar Hammerstein/
Otto Horbach © TB Harms Co. All rights reserved. International copyright secured. Reprinted with permission; on p. 218 from ‘We’ll Make Hay While The Sun Shines’ by N.H. Brown/A.
Freed © 1933 EMI Robbins Catalog Inc. For Australia and New Zealand: D. Davis & Co.
Pty Limited (ABN 37 000 006 799) PO Box 481, Spit Junction NSW 2088, Australia. International copyright secured. All rights reserved. Used by permission; on p. 223 from ‘Now Is The Hour’ by Scott/Kaihau/Stewart in public domain; on p. 378 from ‘St James Infirmary’
in public domain. Every effort was made to contact the copyright holders of non-original material reproduced in this text. In the cases where these efforts were unsuccessful, the copyright holders are asked to contact the publisher directly.
First published in 2005
Copyright © Kerry Greenwood 2005
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording or by any information storage and retrieval system, without prior permission in writing from the publisher.
The Australian Copyright Act
1968 (the Act) allows a maximum of one chapter or 10 per cent of this book, whichever is the greater, to be photocopied by any educational institution for its educational purposes provided that the educational institution (or body that administers it) has given a remuneration notice to Copyright Agency Limited (CAL) under the Act.
Allen & Unwin
83 Alexander Street
Crows Nest NSW 2065
Australia
Phone:
(61 2) 8425 0100
Fax:
(61 2) 9906 2218
Email:
Web:
National Library of Australia
Cataloguing-in-Publication entry:
Greenwood, Kerry.
Death by water.
ISBN 1 74114 552 X.
1. Fisher, Phryne (Fictitious character) – Fiction.
2. Jewelry theft – Fiction. I. Title. (Series: Greenwood, Kerry. Phryne Fisher mystery).
A823.3
Typeset in 11.5 on 14pt Adobe Garamond by Midland Typesetters Printed in Australia by McPherson’s Printing Group 10 9 8 7 6 5 4 3 2 1
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page v This book is dedicated to my very dear and much admired Mr Witherspoon, my fourth grade teacher at Geelong Road State School, who not only believed I could read but gave me the key to the book cabinet, beginning my lifelong affair with literature. I have never had a better present. And at last I get a chance to say thank you.
With thanks to Catherine Howat’s kind expertise on ships, Jean Greenwood’s recall of music, Maggie Walsh’s Maori wisdom, David Greagg’s navigation, Dennis, Mark and Ben Pryor.
And in very loving memory of my cousin Muriel Wright, who died before she could read this. I hope she would have liked it. Missed much more than she would have believed.
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Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page vii
Revenge is a kind of wild justice; which the more
man’s nature runs to, the more ought law to weed
it out.
Francis Bacon, 1st Baron Verulam
‘On Revenge’
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Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 1
CHAPTER ONE
Then pricketh him nature in hir corages
Thanne longen folke to go on pilgrimages.
Prologue to the
Canterbury Tales
G Chaucer
Wednesday
Phryne Fisher was trying to read Chaucer. She liked Middle English for a certain mood. It had a cryptic crossword difficulty which usually absorbed the attention. Today, however, late in the year 1928, the list of distractions and inconveniences was simply too exasperating.
1 Her adopted daughters, Jane and Ruth, were playing a loud game of snakes and ladders.
2 Her admirable cook, Mrs Butler, was expressing to the butcher’s boy her opinion of last night’s lamb, which had been tough even when later minced.
3 Her attentive houseman, Mr Butler, had just reminded her that he and Mrs Butler were embarking on the morrow on
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their yearly visit to Rosebud to stay with their married daughter for a fortnight.
4 Her sister Eliza, exiled from her own house by the discovery of an unexpected cesspit, had arrived to stay, bringing with her her partner in Good Works Lady Alice, seven trunks, a hatbox and a madly barking Pekingese mop dog called Ching.
5 The dog Molly and the cat Ember, had still not recovered from their resentment of this interloper in their own particular ways—Molly by giving the Pekingese a really good barking and Ember by fleeing up the curtains.
And even though the sun had not run his half-course in the Ram, the month was not April of the sweet showers and the local St Kilda birds always slept with opened eye anyway, Phryne Fisher thereupon decided to accept the free passage on the SS
Hinemoa
which the nice man from P&O had offered her the day before.
This being decided, she shut the book, made a telephone call to alert P&O to their good fortune and went upstairs to tell Dot, her maid and companion, to start packing.
‘But you can’t just go away and leave them all!’ objected Dot, a plain young woman of stern moral principles.
‘Why not? Eliza and Lady Alice will look after the girls and the house. My darling Lin is away in Castlemaine and won’t be back for two weeks—a funeral, apparently, of a very old Chinese lady. The substitute staff will be here today to be briefed by Mr Butler. And if I have to listen to any more noise, I am going to commit a mortal sin of some kind. Probably murder.’
Dot looked at Phryne. She wasn’t smiling. Promptly, Dot stepped onto a chair, brought down the big suitcase, and listened to her instructions.
2
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‘Sports clothes, evening clothes, ordinary underwear, Dot—
I do not expect dalliance. We’ll only be away fourteen days.
And the paste jewellery, if you please. Nothing real.’
‘Why not?’ asked Dot, grasping at events as they raced past her.
‘Because I don’t want to lose it,’ said Phryne. ‘The man from P&O wants me to find out who is pinching the passengers’ gems.’
Dot started packing. Phryne sat down on her bed and explained.
‘There have been four thefts in four voyages,’ she said.
‘Each time it was the most valuable piece on the ship. It vanished so completely that even the last search, where they practically disassembled the vessel, didn’t find it.’
‘I see,’ said Dot, who didn’t, but was folding chemises.
‘Who cannot possibly be searched down to the bone when leaving a luxury cruise liner?’ asked Phryne.
‘Oh,’ said Dot. ‘The passengers. I see. So you are looking for a Raffles, a gentleman thief ?’
‘Apparently,’ said Phryne. ‘As soon as you are ready, call down and get Mr B to phone the luggage office. Now, I was going alone, but would you like to come with me, Dot?’
Dot blushed in confusion. ‘But I thought I was coming with you,’ she said. ‘Who’s going to look after your clothes?’
‘They have stewardesses,’ said Phryne.
‘Stewardesses,’ said Dot scornfully.
‘I didn’t mean to just uproot you without a word, old thing,’ said Phryne.
‘My intended, Hugh, he’s away too,’ said Dot. ‘I’ve always wanted to sail on one of those big ships.’
‘So you shall,’ said Phryne. ‘I’ll go and tell the family and you stuff a few things in a bag.’
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Dot reached for more tissue paper and waited until the door was closed before she gave a brief, ladylike snort. Stuff a few things into a bag, indeed. Miss Phryne would have dances, dinners, deck games, swimming and probably climbing around ships in the dark. That needed a considerable wardrobe, and Dot wasn’t going to forget anything.
Phryne walked into the small parlour and clapped her hands. Silence eventually fell. Mr Butler had hauled Molly into the kitchen and shut the door on her. Ember had descended from the curtains and stalked upstairs, disdain of everything canine in every line of his svelte black body. Ching had been muffled in Eliza’s bosom. The girls abandoned their game.
‘Gentleman. Ladies,’ Phryne announced. ‘I have decided to accept P&O’s invitation to do a little sleuthing on their new ship. Eliza will be in charge of the house, Ruth will be in charge of Molly and Jane will be in charge of Ember. Draw on my bank account for any expenses and if you absolutely must find me, you can telegraph the ship. That’s all,’ she said, and walked away, leaving their protests ringing in the air.
‘Peace, perfect peace,’ sang Phryne devoutly. ‘With loved ones far away.’
Thursday
A crowded interval later, Phryne was standing at the SS
Hinemoa
’s rail. Station Pier stretched out before her. The sea was blue and as flat as a plate. The sun gave a preliminary scorch, reminding Phryne that she needed the hat that Dot was carrying.
She could see her family down below. Ruth, who had a good throwing arm, flung her a bright pink streamer and Phryne caught the end. Engines thrummed. Men shouted on the dock. The great hawsers were loosed and hauled dripping
4
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into the ship. From being as stolid and unresponsive as an apartment block, the ship came alive.
Tugs tooted. Shining, glittering, as splendid and ornate as an iced wedding cake, the SS
Hinemoa
slid gently out from her mooring, and in Phryne’s hand the bright pink streamer snapped. Her last link to land. Phryne and Dot waved.
Hinemoa
tried the water and liked it. The familiar faces slid astern; Ruth and Eliza and Jane and Lady Alice.
‘We’re away,’ said Phryne on a released breath of pure excitement, and turned to see Dot dabbing at her eyes. Phryne patted her arm.
‘Come along, Dot dear, we’ll go and have a look at the ship,’ she said briskly. Dot wiped her eyes and fell in behind.
They were accosted by a deferential older man in immac-ulate whites. Stripes on his sleeve informed Phryne that he was an officer. He had a short, ingeniously topiaried grey beard and stippled hair just the colour and texture of a badger fur shaving brush. He held out a hand for Phryne’s and shook it heartily.