‘Candida? Daddy and Mummy are on their way. They will be here soon. Come inside and er, no, don’t come inside. Go out to the car and I’ll meet you there.’ Phryne heard a faint, relieved sobbing, muffled in teddy bear fur.
‘Oh, Bear, I knew you’d come. And now Daddy is coming and Mummy is coming and my lollies are coming and the nasty man is caught and the nasty lady is dead.’
Phryne went back into the kitchen. Candida was fine where she was.
‘Who are you?’ she asked the big man.
‘Mike. Mike Herbert. I didn’t want to be in this, but I had to support my wife.’
‘Did you? Why?’
‘She liked pretty things and I couldn’t afford to buy them — I lost my job, the factory closed down. I’m a carpenter. She borrowed some money off. . a certain person. . and then she couldn’t pay it back, and I couldn’t either, so. . the certain person was going to send the boys around, and. .’
‘Break both her legs, eh? Let’s have a look at her. Where did she fall?’
‘In the bathroom. I think that she’s dead. Poor Ann. She should have been born rich.’
Phryne bent over the body, supine on the oilcloth. She felt for a heartbeat in the cooling breast, and found none. The flesh was clammy and limp against her palm. She stood up and wiped her hands on her trousers.
‘I’m sorry,’ she said to Mike. ‘She can’t have felt anything, you know, the bullet drilled her heart.’
Mike knelt, drew his wife’s skirt down until it covered her knees, and kissed her gently on the cheek.
‘Goodbye, Annie,’ Phryne heard him say as she tactfully withdrew. ‘I would have done anything to make you happy, but it never worked. You shouldn’t have got involved with me. I can’t even bury you properly.’
After about ten minutes, Mike came back to the kitchen, where Phryne was bandaging Sid’s wrist lest he bleed to an untimely death. He whimpered as she handled him and she observed with pleasure that her aim had been perfect. The hole was in the exact middle of the wrist and had not even chipped a bone. The tendons were, as she had purposed, cut neatly though. He would not use that hand to molest any more children.
Mike came into the kitchen and took Phryne by the shoulder, turning her carefully towards him. ‘I never meant to hurt the little girl,’ he pleaded.
‘Well, she doesn’t need you any longer,’ commented Phryne. ‘So now we must decide what to do. I think that I shall cast you as heroic rescuer. I think I’d better bind up your arm and give you some money. Then you can have a wash and a shave, go home to dear Mrs O’Brien, and report your car stolen. You thought your wife had it, but she’s not come back, and you’re afraid that something has happened to her. Did you write the note?’
‘No,’ said Mike through lips numb with astonishment.
‘Good. Now let’s wash this wound. It’s little more than a scratch, just keep it dry. I’ll take off this disgusting hat and find my face.’
Phryne put her head under the cold-water tap and scrubbed vigorously. She emerged as a young woman of some distinction with a bleeding cut over one eye. Phryne dabbed at it with her handkerchief.
‘You need a bit of sticky plaster,’ offered Mike. He found some in the cupboard and applied it neatly. Phryne washed her face again. She was aching all over.
‘Henry, I’ll try to give you as much altitude as I can, but I think this is a silly idea,’ yelled Bunji as she hauled the plane into another turn. ‘You can’t even see the ground. The moon’s down.’
‘I can see that dirty great cross that Phryne’s drawn on that road and I’m going to come down right in the middle of it,’ said Henry confidently. ‘There’s no wind. If I haul in the slacks I should drop right on their heads.’
‘Oh, all right, old chum, far be it from me to stop a friend anxious to break his neck. Careful as you go over, don’t catch anything on the wing. Merde !’ yelled Bunji. ‘Now!’
She had judged it nicely. The man’s body fell out of vision. A pale flower blossomed, cutting off her sight of the luminous cross. Right on target. Bunji drank another mouthful of the luke-warm coffee and looked for a place to set down.
Candida, who occasionally did as she was told, had taken Bear out to the road and was sitting quietly on the running board of the Bentley. She looked at the road. It was glowing.
‘They must have awful big snails here, Bear, to leave a trail like that. Big enough to ride on. Perhaps we can catch one and ride home.’ She yawned. It had been an exciting evening.
Dropping out of the sky into the centre of the snail tracks came a man clad all in leather. Candida froze. He cursed a bit as he loosened the parachute cords, and Candida and Bear edged closer. The voice was familiar. Then the man tore off his flying helmet and she saw his face in the lights that were now streaming from the house.
‘Daddy!’ shrieked Candida, and flew to him, scaling his body and settling back into his embrace. She held him as tight as a limpet for five minutes as he stroked her hair, then she looked up.
‘Where have you been?’ she asked severely. ‘Why did you let those people steal me?’
CHAPTER TWELVE
I met murder on the way
P.B. Shelley The Mask of Anarchy
Phryne found a bottle of rum and two glasses, and lit her first gasper in hours. She leaned back on the draining board and smoked luxuriously.
‘You’d better hit the road, Mike. Don’t forget to report the car stolen.’
Mike, dressed in a clean shirt and combed and shaved, looked like a respectable working man. Phryne peeled off a hundred pounds from her wad of notes.
‘This should take care of you for a while. I’ll look after Candida. Her family will be arriving soon.’
Mike knocked back the rum and pointed at the bundle, which was Sid, on the floor.
‘What about him? He’ll sing like a canary.’
‘I’ll take care of him,’ said Phryne quietly. Sidney, hearing her, winced.
‘Don’t look back,’ she advised Mike. ‘Keep going. There’s the right woman, and children, waiting for you yet. If you need any help with a job, come to me.’ She tucked her card into his pocket with the money, and let him out the front door.
They were both arrested by the sight of what appeared to be an angel, fallen from the sky. He stood tall and shapely, draped in his billowing wings. Candida and Bear were in his arms.
‘Mike,’ squealed Candida. ‘Daddy’s come.’
Mike walked over to her and took her hand.
‘Well, everything’s worked out then. I’ve got to go, Candida. I’ve come to say goodbye.’
Candida, who always associated goodbyes with kisses, turned her cheek. Mike bent and kissed her. Then he took Henry Maldon’s hand and shook it firmly. He turned away and walked into the night.
‘Mike!’ cried Candida, ‘you’ll get lost in the dark.’ But his step did not falter.
Phryne walked over to Henry. ‘I think you’d better get off the highway, dear man, or you’ll be run over by the rescuers. Excuse me for a moment.’
Phryne went back into the kitchen and propped Sid up against a cabinet. ‘I want to talk to you,’ said Phryne. ‘What will you take for keeping your mouth shut?’
‘Why should I? I’ll swing as soon as the cops lay their hands on me.’
‘Yes, you will. But I might be able to gratify any last wish.’ Her voice contained a hint of perversion.
Sidney licked his lips. ‘Can you smuggle me a girl before I go to the gallows?’
‘I think so,’ said Phryne.
Sid wriggled. ‘I mean my sort of girl. A child.’
‘Perhaps. How old?’
‘Twelve at the most.’