Murder on a Midsummer Night by Unknown Read Free Book Online Page A

of ‘I am instructed’. It conveyed what the lawyer had been told without any indication of his opinion as to its veracity.
    ‘Fruitful, certainly,’ she commented.
    ‘And Mr Bonnetti died at the age of seventy-two in 1903. He was a man who did not like lawyers and he wrote his own will and testament.’
    ‘They say that all the lawyers in Gray’s Inn raise their glasses once a year to the man who makes his own will,’ said Phryne.
    ‘As well they might,’ said Mr Adami with feeling. ‘This one was unusually inept. Mr Bonnetti left all his worldly goods to his wife. Not just for her lifetime. Outright.’
    ‘I begin to see where this is heading, Mr Adami,’ said Phryne, taking another olive and holding out the plate. Mr Adami took two to soothe his feelings.
    ‘Mrs Bonnetti did employ a solicitor. My firm, in fact. She was adamant about the terms of her will. She left everything, except for some trifling legacies to servants and so on, to be divided equally between her children. The issue of her body, that is.’
    ‘Oh,’ said Phryne.
    ‘Not just her legitimate children,’ elaborated Mr Adami.
    ‘And you suspect that there may have been a child back in 1864 when she was sent to . . . where?’
    ‘Ballarat, I believe.’
    ‘She didn’t leave you a letter or a document about this possible child?’
    ‘No.’
    ‘And have we any more clues?’
    ‘Just this,’ he said, and gave her a miniature. Phryne switched on the table lamp, with its Tiffany jewels, to examine it.
    The setting was skimpy, a gold border barely a sixteenth of an inch wide, and the backing was of base metal. Not a very well painted miniature. It showed a young man with dark curly hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a tight high collar with a severe necktie and a penitential pin. Under the painting was his name in small even letters.
    ‘Patrick,’ read Phryne. ‘I see. Anything further known?’
    ‘I can’t even give you the names of the old lady’s friends,’ he said worriedly. ‘Because they have predeceased her. You see my problem, Miss Fisher. I must assume that the child is alive—though he or she would be sixty-four years old—or, if not, might have left children who will inherit the share which their parent might have had if they had survived. I cannot distribute the whole estate without knowing about the putative child. And Mr Bonnetti once received a note which said “the child is among you”. Someone knows something! And I cannot put an ordinary private enquiry agent on this case. The good name of a lady . . .’
    ‘Yes, I see,’ said Phryne. ‘Leave it with me for a few days, Mr Adami. I have another case on foot as well. But I will look into it,’ she said.
    ‘Discreetly?’ he begged, taking her hand.
    ‘Discreetly,’ promised Phryne.

    ‘Where did you get the black eye?’ asked Vern.
    ‘Bit of a difference of opinion with the MPs in Cairo,’ said Curly, lighting a cigarette. His knuckles were skinned raw.
    ‘Ah,’ said Vern. ‘Marquess of Gooseberry rules?’
    ‘What’s them?’ asked Curly.
    ‘If you see a head, kick it,’ instructed Vern.
    Curly grinned around his split lip. ‘Too right,’ he said.

CHAPTER FOUR

Errors, like straws, upon the surface flow;
He who would search for pearls, must dive
   below.

    John Dryden
All For Love

    The girls and the old wares contingent returned at five, Eliza and Dot filthy and thirsty and Jane and Ruth agog for information on this new case.
    Phryne banished them all to bathe, dress, and come down to dinner in a sober and industrious frame of mind at which, she said, she would lay out for them the whole extent of both problems. Then she went to do the same herself, giving Eliza the bath and contenting herself with a brisk splash in cold water and a clean dress.
    ‘I say, Phryne, this is lovely soap,’ commented Eliza as Phryne was brushing her hair before the bathroom mirror.
    ‘Castile, double milled, scented with freesia,’ said Phryne.