Just Murdered Page 10

  Birdie groaned.

  ‘Oh, Samuel!’ Violetta put a hand to her mouth.

  ‘Nicely done, Ms Fisher,’ said Birdie through gritted teeth. ‘But how did you know which drink?’

  Peregrine shrugged. ‘I didn’t. But if it’s a toss-up between losing one challenge and swallowing a spiked drink, I’d rather lose. Smart women always know what’s in their glass.’

  Samuel stared with horror at the glass in his hand. ‘Did she just trick me into … ?’

  ‘Yep!’ Peregrine was delighted.

  ‘But it might be …’

  ‘And you touched it, so now you have to drink it!’

  Samuel stared into the glass.

  ‘No time for that now,’ said Birdie briskly. ‘We still have the final challenge!’

  ‘But you said …’ Peregrine gestured at the drinks.

  ‘Flexibility, Ms Fisher! An Adventuress needs to adapt! Outside everyone!’

  ‘This is rigged,’ muttered Peregrine.

  Florence patted her back consolingly. ‘You’re doing well. One more, that’s all.’

  ‘What’s the point? Even if I win Birdie will look me in the eye and tell me I lost.’

  Rather than answering, Florence hooked her arm through Peregrine’s and pulled her towards the final test.

  On the first floor of the Adventuresses’ Club, a narrow plank of wood had been positioned so it extended from the ledge of an open window across a corner to the balustrade of the adjacent balcony. One storey directly below stood a large clump of lavender. Unfortunately, it wasn’t large enough to break a fall or even to provide false reassurance to an aspiring acrobat. Birdie had positioned herself in the garden—well out of the way—with a group of Adventuresses. On the balcony, Violetta and Florence waited, while in the room, leaning out of the open window, were Peregrine and Samuel. Samuel glanced down then abruptly pulled himself back inside, his face white. Peregrine turned and studied him; she could see he was trembling. She leaned out the window again and looked at Birdie.

  ‘Look, do we really need to do this? I’ve passed your tests. You know deep down I’m the one! I really want this and now you’ve seen I’m up for the job … Can’t you just admit it?’

  Birdie dismissed Peregrine’s appeal with an impatient gesture. ‘Physical ability and nerve are essential criteria so, yes, we need to do this. It’s the final test. Who’s first?’

  ‘I-I’ll go.’ Samuel came and stood next to Peregrine, sweat beading on his forehead.

  ‘You don’t have to!’ Peregrine grabbed his arm, but he shook her off.

  ‘It’s the final test,’ he said, teeth clenched.

  Samuel clambered onto the windowsill. Slowly he began to straighten up and put one foot on the plank, causing it to wobble in time with his trembling.

  On the balcony opposite, Violetta bit her lip and turned her head away.

  ‘Stop!’ Peregrine shouted, pulling Samuel back into the room. ‘Sorry, but this is just crazy. I really want to be an Adventuress—to be one of you.’ She gestured at Birdie. ‘But I can’t do this. It’s too dangerous. Someone could be killed!’ She looked at Samuel, who was clutching the windowsill with one hand and mopping his brow with the other.

  ‘Are you saying you give up? You’re quitting?’ Birdie called up.

  ‘No! I’m not quitting.’ Peregrine took a deep breath, aware that on the opposite balcony and in the grounds below, every Adventuress was focused on her. She patted Samuel’s hand. ‘I’m stepping aside. Samuel can have the job.’

  There was a collective sigh from the assembled women.

  Violetta clapped her hands. ‘Peregrine! You did it! You passed!’

  Samuel sagged with relief. ‘Thank God! I thought you’d be scraping me off the front path. Even I was starting to believe you were serious about the whole test thing, Birdie.’

  Peregrine’s head swivelled as she looked from Birdie to Samuel to Violetta to Florence and back again. ‘Wait. This whole thing was fake? The shooting, drinks, locks … everything was a set-up? You people are all mad!’ She stared at Birdie accusingly.

  ‘Well, an investigator needs certain skills which we now know you possess,’ Birdie began.

  Peregrine snorted. ‘Puh-lease.’

  ‘But, no, it wasn’t a set-up. We had to test how far you’d go—what you’d sacrifice—to achieve your goal. Because ultimately, that shows us whether you will uphold our club motto: Gloria in Conspectus Hominum.’

  ‘It means Humanity Before Glory, and that’s what you chose, Peregrine,’ Violetta explained. ‘So you pass! Congratulations!’

  ‘So I’m an Adventuress?’ Peregrine asked.

  Heads nodded and a number of voices murmured their approval and good wishes.

  ‘And just to be clear, there are times when a bit of glory is a good thing?’

  ‘Of course,’ said Birdie. ‘No woman should hide her potential or her achievements!’

  ‘In that case, let’s achieve a bit of glory!’

  Shouldering Samuel out of the way, Peregrine nimbly sprang up onto the plank.

  ‘Peregrine!’ shouted Birdie.

  Peregrine smiled and waved down at her then walked lightly to the middle, took a small bow, then continued across to the other side, jumping down to join Violetta and Florence.

  ‘Peregrine Fisher!’ Birdie yelled, her voice trembling.

  Peregrine leaned over the balustrade and the smile disappeared from her face. She could see Birdie was genuinely upset.

  ‘Peregrine Fisher, life is precious! Don’t you ever, ever, risk yours unnecessarily again!’ Birdie turned away abruptly.

  ‘Sorry,’ Peregrine called. Suddenly she truly realised not only how deeply her aunt’s disappearance had affected the other woman, but also that maybe, just maybe, Birdie didn’t hate her after all.

  ‘We’ll convene in the Camelot Room to discuss your first job.’ Birdie walked inside.

  Peregrine turned away from the edge of the balcony and was enveloped in a hug by Florence and Violetta.

  ‘You were brilliant, Peregrine,’ Florence whispered. ‘I’m so proud of you.’

  ‘Come on, Adventuress Fisher!’ Violetta gave Peregrine an extra squeeze then hurried her inside.

  Peregrine and Birdie stood side by side in the Camelot Room as Birdie spoke. A couple of Adventuresses had already left—shaking Peregrine’s hand warmly then disappearing back to their own work and research—but most remained. Samuel had taken up his usual position, leaning against the wall by the door, and Florence and Violetta were seated side by side on one of the sofas, smiling whenever Peregrine looked their way.

  ‘Peregrine’s first job as our official investigator is to find out the truth about the murder of Barbie Jones, thus exonerating Florence. To achieve this—and at her own suggestion—she’s going to go undercover and join the workforce at Blair’s Emporium,’ Birdie announced.

  ‘I’ll need a good disguise,’ said Peregrine. ‘People have seen me there already.’

  ‘And Sparrow will be after you!’ Florence added.

  Birdie turned to her brother and smiled. ‘Samuel? I think this is where you come in.’

  Samuel rubbed his hands together in anticipation. ‘Don’t worry, I’ll make her unrecognisable!’

  Peregrine held up a warning hand. ‘You’re not dying my hair blonde.’

  ‘Oh. Are you sure?’ He sighed. ‘Well, there are other options. Plus there are a few pieces of equipment I’ve been working on that might come in handy!’

  ‘That magnifier compact was great!’ Peregrine’s enthusiasm matched Samuel’s.

  ‘I also have a wonderful tape recorder that will fit in your handbag, and a camera disguised as a cigarette case.’

  ‘And I’ve already got the lipstick knife, although it would be hard to reach in an emergency. Perhaps you could put a switchblade in something like a bangle or a hair clip?’

  ‘Yes!’ Samuel pointed an emphatic finger at her. ‘Excellent idea! Although I won’t hav
e it ready for you in time for this job.’

  Peregrine shrugged. ‘It’s only a department store.’

  ‘But you’re chasing a murderer, Peregrine,’ Birdie reminded her. ‘Department store or not, this is a dangerous mission and you can’t afford to be complacent.’

  ‘I won’t let you down.’ Peregrine held Birdie’s gaze until the older woman looked away.

  ‘Everyone …’ The word came out with a fine crack. Birdie cleared her throat and tried again. ‘Everyone, please officially welcome Adventuress Fisher!’ She swallowed hard as the room erupted in applause.

  As the remaining Adventuresses dispersed and Samuel rushed off to put together a disguise, Birdie held Peregrine back until, finally, they were alone.

  ‘There’s just one more thing …’ Birdie began.

  ‘I thought I’d passed all your tests,’ sighed Peregrine.

  ‘You did. More convincingly than I could ever have imagined. It made me think, well …’ Birdie held up a finger, signalling to Peregrine to wait, and went to the bureau. She pulled something from the top section and Peregrine saw a shudder pass through her stiff shoulders. Then Birdie turned back to face Peregrine and extended her hand. Sitting on her open palm, the pearl handle turned towards Peregrine, was a golden revolver.

  ‘It was your aunt’s,’ Birdie said quietly. ‘It’s no good to the rest of us—and Phryne would want you to have it.’

  Stunned, Peregrine looked from the gun to Birdie’s face, where a sad smile wavered before it was fixed firmly in place. Birdie moved her hand forward and Peregrine reached for the pearl grip, covering Birdie’s hand with her own.

  ‘Peregrine! Are you coming? We’ve got a lot to do!’ Samuel called from somewhere deep in the house.

  Peregrine took the gun then stepped in close, kissed Birdie swiftly on the cheek and hurried from the room.

  Peregrine smoothed the front of her brown knee-length skirt as she sat down opposite Colin Blair in the vast office he shared with his father. She’d been hugely impressed when Florence Astor had managed to arrange an almost-immediate job interview for her, until the designer explained it was a dogsbody position with a high turnover of girls: each one arrived at Blair’s bubbling with excitement and left within months, her shoulders slumped. But Peregrine was no stranger to soul-destroying jobs. Besides, not only was this all a ruse, dogsbody was the ideal undercover job—she would be sent everywhere and overlooked by everyone.

  Peregrine had arrived twenty minutes early for her appointment and spent the time in the outer office, buttering up the secretary. From Mrs Hirsch (‘I’m not married, but Mrs is so much more suitable for a woman of a certain age, dear’) Peregrine had managed to discover who had keys to the inner office, what time Mrs Hirsch arrived each morning and left in the afternoon, that Mrs Blair was ‘delicate’ and that the department store business was very lucrative. And that Joyce Hirsch had a cat named Simpkins. All in all, it had been twenty minutes well spent. Now, seated in the inner sanctum, Peregrine gushed and giggled like the aspiring shopgirl she was supposed to be as her eyes wandered around the wood-panelled room, taking in every detail. If either of the Blairs had anything to hide, where would they put it?

  ‘I’m so excited to have an interview for this job,’ she said, adjusting her round-framed glasses. ‘I’ve always loved Blair’s Emporium, so working here would be an absolute dream come true for me!’ Peregrine raised her voice a fraction and Terence Blair, signing papers at his own desk across the room, glanced up with a brief smile.

  Peregrine ran a hand along the edge of the desk, admiring its polished surface, then leaned towards Colin eagerly. ‘Can I ask—and I hope you don’t think I’m forward, because I’m really not that kind of girl, it’s just that I have a nose for perfumes and that sort of thing—what’s that scent you’re wearing? It’s sort of mossy and lemony and spicy all at the same time! So masculine!’

  Disconcerted, Colin stared at her for a moment, but there was nothing to see in Peregrine’s face but eagerness.

  ‘It’s called Pour Monsieur. It’s French.’ He dropped his eyes back to the papers in front of him.

  ‘French! Well, no wonder it’s so nice. I’d love to go to France! That’s where some of the best fashion comes from, isn’t it? I’ve always been interested in fashion—that’s a handsome suit you’re wearing, by the way; you can tell a lot about a man by the way he dresses—and my late mother and I used to love shopping at Blair’s. It was always an occasion when we’d travel into town, step through that big front door and …’

  Peregrine continued to prattle on enthusiastically as Colin Blair scanned her job application and hastily concocted résumé.

  ‘Well,’ Colin said loudly, cutting through Peregrine’s monologue, ‘Miss Astor certainly gives you a glowing reference: punctual, reliable, always well-groomed, shows initiative.’

  He looked across at her, mouth pursed and eyes narrowed slightly in consideration.

  ‘I try my best.’ Peregrine smoothed a hand across her pigtailed hair. Behind the round lenses, her lashes fluttered.

  ‘Thank you for coming in. I have a number of other candidates to interview, but we’ll let you know.’ Colin’s tone was cool.

  ‘Time is money. Stop wasting it!’ The edict came from the other side of the room.

  Peregrine and Colin both looked across at Terence Blair. He was staring at his son, while the pen in his right hand tapped impatiently on the desk blotter.

  ‘Pardon, Father?’ Colin’s business-like tone was gone, replaced by something Peregrine couldn’t quite identify. Fear? Frustration? She filed the thought away.

  ‘Sounds like you don’t need to interview anyone else, Colin.’ Terence Blair bent his head to his paperwork, ending the conversation.

  Colin stared at his father for a moment longer, then glanced down at the application in front of him. He straightened his already-straight tie.

  ‘You’re aware that this is an entry-level position? Just running errands and such?’

  ‘Oh, yes! I love Blair’s and I’m hoping this is just the first step. I really want to work my way up to the very top—a sales position on the cosmetics counter—and I’m willing to do anything!’ Peregrine gave him her most winning smile.

  ‘In that case, the job is yours. Only a one-month trial to begin with, but if that proves satisfactory we’ll consider making the position permanent. Five days a week, nine to five, half an hour for lunch. And we frown very much on gossip and talking to the press. There’s been a bit of interest from the newspapers since … recently, so your discretion is imperative.’

  ‘I understand completely. I’m known for my discretion.’ Peregrine nodded solemnly.

  ‘Welcome to Blair’s.’ Colin reached across the desk and shook her hand.

  ‘When do I start?’

  ‘As soon as you like.’

  ‘Today? Right now?’ Peregrine asked eagerly, widening her eyes in a show of excitement.

  Across the room, Terence Blair chuckled. ‘She’s keen! With that attitude you’ll go far, young lady. Maybe even head of cosmetics one day!’

  ‘Do you think so, Mr Blair?’ Peregrine gasped.

  ‘Yes, well, one step at a time.’ Colin was all business again. ‘If you go along to the personnel department, there’s some paperwork to complete, then someone will get you a uniform, show you around and get you started on a few basic tasks. Give them this.’ He scribbled something on a piece of paper and slid it across the desk. ‘Thank you, Mr Blair! You won’t be disappointed!’ Peregrine stood and gathered up the note and her handbag, beaming at Terence Blair.

  The older man returned her smile. ‘Nice to meet you, Miss … ?’

  ‘Foster. Penny Foster.’

  ‘Nice to meet you, Miss Foster.’ Terence Blair winked at her and Peregrine responded with a waggly-fingered wave as she left the office.

  She was in.

  After a lightning tour that largely consisted of showing Peregrine where the time clock was and
which areas were staff only, she was sent to take an urgent delivery of Vis a Vis to the fragrance counter. Ten minutes later, job done, she was lurking in ladieswear, hoping to find some of the house models who had been part of the murderous bridal fashion parade. From experience, Peregrine knew that the best way to avoid being noticed and told off by a more senior employee was to always look like you were in the middle of something. Moving quickly meant you were on an urgent errand, but when lingering was necessary, a slow and meticulous task was called for. Peregrine positioned herself next to a tabletop display of scarves and, looking around to be sure no one was watching, quickly reduced the entire lot to a jumbled mess. Then she began to carefully refold each one and stack them according to colour and price. She expected to be there for an hour at least, but not long after she’d started, Detective Steed stepped purposefully from one of the elevators. Peregrine angled her body slightly, hoping he wouldn’t recognise her. Not yet, anyway.

  ‘Detective Steed?’ someone called from across the shop floor.

  Peregrine looked in the direction of the voice. A large florid-faced man in a too-small suit was bearing down on the elevator bank.

  ‘Harvey White of H.R. White’s, the premier department store in town—and the safest. Ha!’

  Detective Steed only had time to nod in acknowledgement before the elevator to his right pinged and the doors opened, disgorging Terence and Colin Blair.

  ‘White!’ hissed the elder Blair. ‘Why are you in my store?’

  ‘Just doing my civic duty,’ said White with a smirk. ‘The good detective requested my presence, so being the fine, upstanding citizen that I am, I complied.’ He spread his arms wide and dipped his head in a mock bow.

  Steed stepped between them. ‘Thank you for coming, Mr White. We’ve arranged for an interview room to be set up over here. If you’ll come with me …’ He tried to usher Harvey White away, but the other man had spotted Colin Blair standing a step behind his father.

  ‘This must be the pup! Still trailing after Daddy.’