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"Oh my Gawd these shoes are killing me!"
Jack took a deep breath. He considered himself a tolerant man but after a couple of hours everything about this woman was starting to grate. He crouched down on the floor to continue his careful survey of the footprints in the dust, trying to determine how many people had been in the room and where they had been positioned in respect of each other.
"It's cold in here."
This time he really had to bite his tongue. What the hell did you expect when your idea of clothing amounted to little more than a couple of pieces of string and a sparkly handkerchief?
"I just gotta to sit..."
"Nooooooo," Jack launched himself across the floor, scrabbling to reach the door, throwing dust in the air and obliterating the prints he had been examining. He watched dumbstruck as the door passed just beyond the tips of his outstretched fingers before closing with a very definite thud.
"Oh."
Every cell in his body demanded that he yell at her, instead he let his head drop until his forehead rested on the remains of his very important clues.
"You alright?"
Without lifting his head he shook it.
"You wanna hand up?"
No, what I want is for you to be anywhere in the world but locked in this small room with me, he thought.
"Jack?" another more welcome voice came from behind him, "Don't you think you're being a tad over dramatic?"
Possibly true, he admitted to himself, but hardly fair coming from the woman who had taken all of sixty minutes from their arrival in New York to put herself in the middle of a murder enquiry.
"I'm almost certain Miss Sumner didn't mean to lock us in the room."
Of course not, he thought, it's not her fault - that she's a complete idiot! Jack got up slowly from the floor, brushed off a substantial amount of dust and straightened his tie. "My apologies Miss Sumner. It's just..." he gesticulated helplessly at the door, "it might have been better if you hadn't moved the chair from where it was propping the door open."
She turned to look at the now locked door, "Yeah, got that now," she agreed affably, sitting on the chair, undoing her shoes and beginning to rub her feet.
Jack stared at her in stunned disbelief. Baffled, he turned to Phryne, only to find she seemed amused. "Suggestions, Miss Fisher?"
"I think I can pick the lock," she said, moving to crouch beside the door, "it'll take some time though." She examined the complicated mechanism, "Maybe a couple of hours."
"You gotta be kiddin' me," came the whine.
Jack gritted his teeth.
"What about my show tonight? I need an hour to change an' do my hair."
"I believe, Miss Sumner, that we have more pressing problems than whether you will have time to get into your costume," he pointed out.
"You may have but if I'm late one of the chorus girls will take my slot!"
"That sounds perfectly reasonable..."
"Reasonable?" she said, "Reasonable?" she repeated louder and higher, "REASONABLE?"
Good Lord, Jack was suddenly aware that he had never actually heard anyone screech before. He put his hands over his ears.
"Listen here hotshot, there ain't nothing reasonable about replacing me. Don't you know who I am? I'm Joan Sumner. The Joan Sumner!" She stood up, moving towards him, red tipped talon outstretched, "Nobody!" she poked him hard in the chest, "Replaces!" she poked again, forcing him to stumble back, "Me!" one final poke, made all the more painful by the fact he was now firmly pressed against the wall.
He looked helplessly at Phryne.
"Jack, I wonder if you might give Miss Sumner your coat? It's possible she's feeling a chill in the air," Phryne said from where she was still crouched by the door.
Jack quickly shrugged off his coat, holding it out like a peace offering, relieved when it was accepted with a condescending sniff. She moved back to the chair. Jack chose to stay put, his back safely against the wall.
"He'll do it. That bastard won't even blink."
Jack thought he heard a sniff.
"I coulda left any time. I got offers from all the big clubs and Sam my agent, the one that got killed, he was all for me moving on. But no, I've always been loyal, because Ronnie gave me my big break."
This time the sniff was unmistakable.
Her voice was trembling now, "This new guy though..." she shook her head, making the cleverly cut glass earrings she wore catch the light coming through the solitary window, "he don't do loyalty."
Distracted by the flash of her earrings, Jack began to investigate the window on the wall he had sought refuge against. It was a foot or so above head height, stepping back he could see that that there were bars on the outside.
"He'll get Norma to step in," her voice broke, "and she..." tears were rolling down her face now, "talentless cow..." she wrapped Jack's coat tighter around herself, "she's sleeping with him. Him with a new wife an' all."
What he needed was a way to get up to the window, if he could break the glass and shout out, maybe someone would hear them.
"An' once she gets her claws in," shoulders heaving, "I might never get a shot at the big time!" She began to wail.
Five minutes ago Jack would have sworn that her whining was the most annoying sound possible, but this new noise? It was going to be hard to beat, or at least he prayed so.
Phryne stood, motioning him to the furthermost corner, which amounted to all of eight steps.
He dropped his head so she could whisper directly into his ear.
"Jack, I need you to stop mucking around."
He pulled back surprised, what?
"I have to concentrate if I'm going to get us out of here and that's going to be impossible if you keep upsetting Miss Sumner."
"I..."
She gave him a reassuring smile, "Why don't you talk her through where we're at with the investigation, she probably has some insights to share."
Jack stared at the woman who had his coat wrapped almost twice around her, legs drawn up on the seat with her arms around them and her head resting on her knees, sobbing. Loudly. Insights seemed... unlikely. He nodded, but only because it was Phryne asking.
She squeezed his arm before moving back to the door.
He stepped tentatively towards the chair. "Miss Sumner?" Her head shot up immediately and he was amazed to see that, despite all the performance, her makeup was completely unblemished. "I wonder if you could help me? If I could look out the window?" She narrowed her eyes. "Would it... could you... perhaps let me use the chair?" She stared at him. It took her so long to respond he wondered if she had somehow lost the ability to comprehend the english language.
Finally she sniffed at him, again. It was astounding, he reflected, how much reliance she placed on this simple physical activity, clearly expecting it to portray the full gambit of her emotions. It was however infinitely preferable to her speaking. He was pleased to learn that this particular sniff meant 'I've considered your very polite and reasonable request and, much against my natural inclination, I'm going to comply.' He moved quickly to grab the chair before she changed her mind.
His sense of success was somewhat tainted by her decision to stand behind the chair as he placed it by the window.
"Phryne said you're 'sposed to tell me about the investigation," she said accusingly.
Jack could have sworn he heard a stifled laugh from the vicinity of the door. "Would you mind if I just did this first?" he requested as she clearly hadn't noticed he was halfway through climbing onto the chair. This time, as he straightened to look out the window, he considered the sniff was more snort-like than previously.
"Well? Waddaya see?"
Jack rolled his eyes and tried to breathe calmly, in through his nose, out through his mouth. "I can see straight into the leaves of the tree that has been inconveniently planted in front of the thick glass of this securely barred window."
"Can you see a road?"
"No. Unfortunately, I can only see the tree."
"What about buildings? Can you see any other buildings?"
"No, because there's a tree."
"You must be able to see something," she whined.
"Yes, your right," he sighed, "I can definitely see a tree. It's been planted in front of the window." He looked down at her, "Perhaps you recall me mentioning it earlier?"
This time it was definitely a snort.
"Jack," the warning in Phryne's voice was unmistakable.
He got off the chair, "Might I suggest Miss Sumner, that you take a look for yourself?"
She pushed past him to clamber up on the chair. "That's a real shame, she said, "I can't see anything because of the tree."
Jack wondered if he could throttle her and get out of the country before anyone noticed she was dead. He glanced sideways at Phryne, he wasn't sure he could trust her not to inform on him.
"Ain't you going to help me down?"
Sighing, he reached out his hand, she stared at him mystified.
"You need to lift me down."
"What?"
"Lift me down!"
Giving up, he stepped in and placed his hands on her waist, she put her hands on his shoulders. "Why don't you like me Jack?" she complained.
"I don't not like you," he lied, trying to remember when he had invited her to use his first name, oh that's right - it was right after hell froze over!
He lifted her to the ground, removing his hands immediately. She didn't return the courtesy and he found he couldn't step back from her because now there was another wall at his back. How did she manage to keep forcing him into corners? As a last resort he remembered Phryne's suggestion. "If you take a seat, I'll tell you what we've found out about Mr Midhurst's death so far?" He was surprised to find she sat quickly in the chair, looking up at him expectantly.
"Mr Midhurst..."
"Sam," she corrected him.
"Mr Midhurst... "
She rolled her eyes at him, "Jeez, why you gotta be such an old fuddy duddy, Jack?"
"Mr Midhurst," he persisted, "was found dead in his office this morning by Miss Fisher and myself. There had clearly been a struggle and the disarray of his papers indicate that the assailant was searching for something."
"It coulda been two people."
"I'm sorry?"
"The assailant and the searcher. They coulda been two different people."
He stared at her. As much as he hated to admit it, she made a good point, "That's true."
"What you doin' in his office anyway?"
Phryne spoke up, "Sam was an old friend of mine. I sent a telegram from London that I'd be passing through New York and he offered to take us to lunch."
"Don't sound like Sam, are you sure he was expecting an us?"
"No, your right, the us bit is rather new," Phryne conceded turning back to the lock.
"Really?" she drawled, raising her eyebrow at him in a manner that Jack found particularly unattractive.
He cleared his throat, "Anyway, as he was dead obviously lunch did not proceed, instead we found ourselves at the local police station speaking to a Captain Byers."
"I know Byers, he's a real honey."
Not even sure what that meant Jack ignored it. Byers was a no nonsense policeman more concerned with solving the crime than the unorthodox manner in which it had been reported to him. And Phryne had inveigled them into the investigation before either he or Jack had realised. Which reminded him, "Having found numerous instances of your details in the office we called upon you at your place of employment."
"About that, I gotta say Phryne, you sure are handy in a tight spot."
"Thank you, I do like to think I cope well with the unexpected."
Jack gazed at Phryne in admiration recalling their arrival at the nightclub. There had been screams, he broke down a dressing room door, she picked up a heavy glass ashtray from the dresser then dropped it, very effectively, on the head of the man attempting to strangle Miss Sumner. After questioning him they had left him tied up for Byers to find when he caught up.
Unfortunately, she had then decided that Miss Sumner would be safest if she stayed with them. Which was why she was here at the abandoned warehouse belonging to the man who put the hit on her, and presumably Mr Midhurst too.
"And now here we are..."
"All nice and cosy," she finished for him with a smile.
"Yes," agreed Jack, "all nice and cosy." He thought he did well to keep the sarcasm to merely dripping, as opposed to torrential.
"So, are you going to tell us what you were looking for in Sam's office?" Phryne asked conversationally, head still bent over as she worked the lock. "I presume it's the same thing they are looking for."
Two sets of eyes swung to look at the woman kneeling by the door. Her focus never drifted from the place where two picks were inserted in the keyhole.
"He was dead when I got there, I swear!"
"So what were you were looking for?" Phryne asked
Jack watched her closely and for a few seconds it looked like she was going to try to deny everything. Then she clearly decided, Phryne at least, was not fooled by her acting skills
"If you knew Sam, you know he was always his own worse enemy. He got drunk the other night an' started shooting his mouth off about these pictures of the managers new wife," she gave Jack a sly look, "Sam an' she... "
"Now, that does sound like Sam," Phryne interrupted.
Jack had a sudden urge to go back to the office to make sure there weren't photos of her there too. Before Byers and his lads found them.
As if she read his mind, "Don't worry Jack, we never went to Madagascar."
Jack let out the breath he hadn't realised he was holding.
"You outta give it a bash Jack."
"I'm sorry?"
"It's awfully exciting having someone else in the room when you're with a lover, even if they're only taking photos."
He shook his head, "Three is quite clearly a crowd Miss Sumner," he said pointedly, choosing to ignore her childish giggle. "Have you got the photos on you now?"
"Why Jack, you wanna look?" she fluttered her eyelashes at him.
Completely missing her insinuation he replied, "Of course I do."
She smirked at him but it wasn't until he heard Phryne make a noise that sounded suspiciously like a grunt of suppressed laughter that he realised how his words could be misinterpreted. "That's not... they could be important evidence," he said quickly.
"Evidence huh? That's a new one, but a good lookin' guy like you don't need seedy photos," she let her eyes wander slowly down his body, "unless that's your thing, in which case I'd let you take photos of me anytime," she said with a wink.
"I hate to break up the budding romance but I think we're about to have company," Phryne moved quickly away from the door.
"Miss Sumner, if you've got those photo's give them to me now," Jack said, his tone deadly serious. She reached into her cleavage and handed him a roll of film. He moved the chair away and placed himself in front of her, "Stay behind me, if you can." He looked across to Phryne in the opposite corner, she lifted her blouse at the back so he could see the pearl handle of her gun. Unbuttoning his suit jacket, he slipped the film into the hidden pocket and undid the holster of his gun.
There was the soft sound of his coat falling to the ground behind him. He felt a grudging admiration, she knew what her greatest weapon was and she was prepared to use it.
They all stared at the door. Waiting.
There was the sound of many feet and voices, Jack glanced quickly at Phryne who winked and relaxed. The knock on the door that followed was unmistakably police issue.
"Robinson? Miss Fisher? You in there?"
Phryne went to the door, "Captain Byers? We're locked in, can you open the door from that side?"
"Sure can Miss Fisher, might pay to step away from the door."
There was shuffling, some cursing and then the door finally swung inwards.
"Thank you, gentleman, it was getting a bit hot in here," Phryne smiled at the man and his officers.
"You're welcome ma'am,' the Captain stepped inside, his smile widening when he saw who was standing behind Jack. He tipped his hat, "Miss Sumners. I've been looking for you and the film you stole from Sam's office."
As Jack bent down to retrieve his coat, he could hear Phryne and the Captain getting each other up to speed on their separate investigations. Personally, he was just relieved to be getting out of here. He stood up - and immediately found himself backed up against the wall. Again.
"Jack! An' there was me thinking you don't like me."
He looked at her confused.
"No ones ever protected me like that before... "
He decided confused was still the most appropriate reaction.
"... you're so brave an' handsome an' I just wanna... "
"Miss Fisher!"
The obvious distress in his voice had Phryne turning immediately, only to raise her eyebrows in amusement.
Jack, with an incredibly pained look on his face, had two arms full of platinum blonde determined to make her thanks felt.
"I'll see you back at the hotel dining room, Jack," she tilted her head acknowledging his predicament, "do feel free to bring along your new friend," she smirked. The last thing she heard as she walked out the door was his strangled plea of 'Phryne...'
Jack swore at this betrayal by his... his... whatever she was. He looked down at the scantily clad woman now firmly ensconced in his arms... and immediately wished he hadn't. Whatever he had thought previously about the inappropriateness of her clothing choice, was not improved from this angle where he had a clear view of her rather substantial cleavage. God Lord, he thought, was that even legal?
"Miss Sumner? Miss? I'm glad to have been able to assist but I wonder..." to his horror the sound of his voice only seemed to spur on her attempt to meld herself to him. He tried to visualise the detail of her dress, keeping his eyes firmly averted, but he couldn't recall seeing anywhere with sufficient material that he could put his hands without touching bare skin.
A movement on her part which brought her into contact with his pelvis galvanised him into action, and he placed his hands firmly on her waist. He pushed her away from him, "Miss Sumner? I would appreciate it if you could be less... enthusiastic in your thanks." Perhaps not the smoothest of moves but he couldn't deny the effectiveness as she was now a full foot away from him, staring at him as though he was mad. Which was a small price to pay from his perspective. A quick glance around confirmed that her opinion was shared by every man now standing in the room.
Finally, Captain Byers took pity on him, "Miss Sumner? Ma'am, perhaps you could step this way? Constable Standish will take your statement and then escort you back to the club for your show," he waved forward a young man with the looks of a hollywood star. A wicked smile forming on her lips she sashayed towards the grinning Constable, leaving Jack finally able to breathe easy.
Byers, clapped him hard enough on the shoulder to make him wince, "You're a strange guy, Robinson."
Jack bent to retrieve his coat from the dusty floor where it had fallen, again, draping it over his arm before straightening his tie, "You're probably right," he admitted, "Do you mind if I?" he gazed longingly at the door.
Byers shrugged, "You're a private citizen, free to go wherever you please."
Jack nodded, handed him the film and stalked out. He needed to get back to the hotel, because he and a certain lady detective were going to have words...
It was just around the first corner that he found her, wiping the tears from her eyes.
"I'm so sorry Jack," she managed before collapsing into another fit of laughter, "but it was just too..."
"I'm glad my discomfort amuses you," my God, he thought, did I just sniff?
"It doesn't really... I'm sorry... just give me a moment... please," Phryne made a valiant effort to get herself under control. "Honestly, it was better that you kept her distracted then she realised the truth."
"What truth?" he wasn't following.
"Jack, I thought you knew," she was genuinely touched to see how much faith he had in her abilities, "the only way I was going to get that door open was if I had a plug of gelignite in my back pocket. I just didn't want Miss Sumner to panic and I was fairly confident that Captain Byers would find our neatly wrapped parcel at the nightclub and come to our rescue in an hour or so."
He stared at her for a moment before pulling her into his arms, "You, Miss Fisher, are extraordinarily clever."
She tilted her head up to let him kiss her, "I know."