Read Online Death by Water by Kerry Greenwood - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Kerry Greenwood
Tags: A Phyrne Fisher Mystery
Ads: Link
them. Lunch in the Palm Court only rates a string quartet so the rest of them get to sit down with us servants and crew.’
‘Keep your ears . . . er . . . peeled; doesn’t sound right, does it? Pay close attention, Dot dear. Who knows all about the passengers? The stewards. See if you can find anything that the victims had in common.’
‘They are all ladies,’ said Dot.
‘Yes,’ said Phryne. ‘But that may just be because it’s the ladies who wear the jewels. Now, I’m going to have a swim.
Coming?’
‘Too cold for me,’ shivered Dot, who could be persuaded to venture into the shallow end of a pool only when the temperature was over the century mark and rocketing skywards.
‘I’ll sit here and complete this side of my sewing. Then I might have a walk around and look at the shop. The stewards say it’s very good. I need some more ivory thread.’
‘Then I’ll see you later,’ said Phryne, donning her bathing slip, putting a loose cotton dress on over it and gathering towel, 53
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 54
bathing cap, hat and capacious bag. It was figured with Pierrot and Columbine in jazz colours of black, white and purple. It had been made for Phryne by a craft needlewoman in St Kilda, discovered contributing real works of art to the Lady Mayor-ess’s Fund Sale of Work. For possibly the first occasion in that fund’s history. Her hat had a gay panache of a jazz coloured scarf, knotted in the middle and stitched to the band.
‘Miss!’ hissed Dot. ‘What about the . . . thingy?’
‘Got it safe,’ said Phryne, patting her bag. She stowed into it various other aids to comfort and went out.
Dot threaded another needle. Swimming! It must have been spending all that time in Europe, where it snowed, that made Miss Phryne so proof against cold. Or possibly it was her hot blood.
Leaving that topic immediately, Dot put on the radio, which played gentle dance tunes, and resumed stitching.
Sean O’Reilly
Queenstown
Ireland
God and Patrick be with you cousin dear we will be arriving on the train at eight in the morning on the seventh. Little Seamus is eager to be on the big ship. He says it is lucky because of the name of the line. Father says he will grow up to be a fisherman. Men who use the sea always watch stars, you see. I am so glad that you will be able to see us on board. We are to be gone forever and that is a weary time.
Yours, dear cousin
Fionnghula
54
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 55
CHAPTER FOUR
I would be the necklace
. . . Upon her balmy bosom
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
‘The Miller’s Daughter’
The water was agreeably cold and refreshing. Phryne dived in, swam a few strokes, then rolled over and lazed. This time, ten of the morning, when the day had been properly aired, was her favourite. All the fanatical early-to-rise brigade had done their grim ten laps and gone to a virtuous breakfast. It was too early for the real sybarites who never breakfasted but arose in good time for lunch. The swimming race was at three. The sky above her was as blue as lapis lazuli. She floated on her back in the dead centre of an empty swimming bath in complete luxury.
But it was not to last. A young man hurried up and flung himself almost on top of her. Phryne was forced down to the bottom, from whence she rose in wrath and fetched Jack Mason a tidy buffet on the ear.
55
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 56
‘Idiot,’ she snarled. ‘Can’t you look where you’re diving, you clumsy lout?’
‘Oops!’ he said ruefully, clutching her by the shoulders and trying to rub his ear with the same hand, which had the effect of driving Phryne under again. She dived away from him and came up at a safe distance, still furious. Jack Mason, keeping out of cuffing range, said, ‘Golly, Miss Fisher, dashed frightful of me! Can you ever forgive me? Let me get you a drink? I say, Steward!’ he called to the swimming pool steward, a sedate older man in a white
‘Keep your ears . . . er . . . peeled; doesn’t sound right, does it? Pay close attention, Dot dear. Who knows all about the passengers? The stewards. See if you can find anything that the victims had in common.’
‘They are all ladies,’ said Dot.
‘Yes,’ said Phryne. ‘But that may just be because it’s the ladies who wear the jewels. Now, I’m going to have a swim.
Coming?’
‘Too cold for me,’ shivered Dot, who could be persuaded to venture into the shallow end of a pool only when the temperature was over the century mark and rocketing skywards.
‘I’ll sit here and complete this side of my sewing. Then I might have a walk around and look at the shop. The stewards say it’s very good. I need some more ivory thread.’
‘Then I’ll see you later,’ said Phryne, donning her bathing slip, putting a loose cotton dress on over it and gathering towel, 53
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 54
bathing cap, hat and capacious bag. It was figured with Pierrot and Columbine in jazz colours of black, white and purple. It had been made for Phryne by a craft needlewoman in St Kilda, discovered contributing real works of art to the Lady Mayor-ess’s Fund Sale of Work. For possibly the first occasion in that fund’s history. Her hat had a gay panache of a jazz coloured scarf, knotted in the middle and stitched to the band.
‘Miss!’ hissed Dot. ‘What about the . . . thingy?’
‘Got it safe,’ said Phryne, patting her bag. She stowed into it various other aids to comfort and went out.
Dot threaded another needle. Swimming! It must have been spending all that time in Europe, where it snowed, that made Miss Phryne so proof against cold. Or possibly it was her hot blood.
Leaving that topic immediately, Dot put on the radio, which played gentle dance tunes, and resumed stitching.
Sean O’Reilly
Queenstown
Ireland
God and Patrick be with you cousin dear we will be arriving on the train at eight in the morning on the seventh. Little Seamus is eager to be on the big ship. He says it is lucky because of the name of the line. Father says he will grow up to be a fisherman. Men who use the sea always watch stars, you see. I am so glad that you will be able to see us on board. We are to be gone forever and that is a weary time.
Yours, dear cousin
Fionnghula
54
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 55
CHAPTER FOUR
I would be the necklace
. . . Upon her balmy bosom
Alfred, Lord Tennyson
‘The Miller’s Daughter’
The water was agreeably cold and refreshing. Phryne dived in, swam a few strokes, then rolled over and lazed. This time, ten of the morning, when the day had been properly aired, was her favourite. All the fanatical early-to-rise brigade had done their grim ten laps and gone to a virtuous breakfast. It was too early for the real sybarites who never breakfasted but arose in good time for lunch. The swimming race was at three. The sky above her was as blue as lapis lazuli. She floated on her back in the dead centre of an empty swimming bath in complete luxury.
But it was not to last. A young man hurried up and flung himself almost on top of her. Phryne was forced down to the bottom, from whence she rose in wrath and fetched Jack Mason a tidy buffet on the ear.
55
Death by Water-PAGES 21/4/05 2:21 PM Page 56
‘Idiot,’ she snarled. ‘Can’t you look where you’re diving, you clumsy lout?’
‘Oops!’ he said ruefully, clutching her by the shoulders and trying to rub his ear with the same hand, which had the effect of driving Phryne under again. She dived away from him and came up at a safe distance, still furious. Jack Mason, keeping out of cuffing range, said, ‘Golly, Miss Fisher, dashed frightful of me! Can you ever forgive me? Let me get you a drink? I say, Steward!’ he called to the swimming pool steward, a sedate older man in a white
Similar Books
