Urn Burial by Kerry Greenwood Read Free Book Online Page A

By the way, is there anyone else who has a grudge against Tom?’
    ‘No, not that I know of. Of course, that Fletcher woman tried very hard to snare him when he lived in town, but she’s now occupied with throwing poor Judy at Gerry Randall. I can’t imagine why she wants him, she’s as rich as Croesus already.
    The girl is a great catch, though I suppose that you can’t really be too rich. And I’ve often wondered why Tom invites Major Luttrell here, he doesn’t seem to like him much. But gentlemen will have their fancies, won’t they?’
    ‘They will,’ agreed Phryne. Her current fancy was lodged far too far away from her with only his Confucianist principles to keep him warm. Mrs Reynolds rose.
    ‘I really should go – Doctor Franklin is attending Lina and I really should be there.’
    ‘Yes. See if you can find out what she isn’t telling. She must have seen something if the man was close enough to . . .’ Phryne censored her words in deference to her hostess’s sensibilities,
    ‘assault her. And what was she doing out of the 46
    house, anyway? Surely your housekeeper doesn’t encourage the maids to wander.’
    ‘Certainly not. Mrs Hinchcliff is very strict. Even if she were not, Lina is her niece. Miss Fisher, thank you for listening to me. I must go,’ she said, drawing herself up to her full height and smoothing down her tweed costume. Dot let her out.
    ‘The old school trained its daughters well, Dot.
    There aren’t many of them left in these parlous days.
    Thank God,’ said Phryne, and drained her glass.
    Phryne was recovered enough to come down to lunch. She endured some mild teasing from Gerald, Jack and Judy about her horsemanship, flirted mildly with the poet and Gerald and drank a little consomme´.
    The poet was gallant in a middle-European way.
    He raised his glass of hock in a toast.
    ‘To Miss Fisher – most beautiful of Dianas.’
    ‘I suppose even Diana took the occasional toss,’
    giggled Judy to Gerald, who smiled, and to Jack who did not.
    ‘Beware lest you suffer the fate of Actaeon,’
    warned Tom, which silenced Judy.
    Gerald caught on instantly. ‘I’ll try not to surprise you bathing, Miss Fisher.’
    ‘I’m not likely to be in the position – far too cold for swimming.’
    ‘Letty,’ said the Major in a poisonous whisper heard perfectly by everyone at the table. ‘Stop that blubbering and sit up straight.’
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    Mrs Luttrell whimpered, bit her lip, and took up a spoonful of soup. Phryne was trying to be sorry for this obviously oppressed woman but couldn’t quite manage it. She had married the repellent Major, so she should find some way of dealing with him. Braining him with a handy chafing dish was Phryne’s current favourite.
    ‘So, you don’t go for an early morning dip, Miss Fisher?’ bellowed Major Luttrell. ‘Should try it.
    Tones you up. The young chaps always do. I’ve seen ’em with their towels and togs running down to the jolly old river at the crack of dawn.’
    ‘I’m toned enough, thank you,’ said Phryne firmly.
    Miss Mead remarked, ‘I do think that the amount of physical exercise that gels do now must have something to do with their dress. So sensible!
    Flying planes and driving cars and climbing mountains, so difficult in long skirts and . . . er . . .
    garments.’
    Before Judith could embarrass Miss Mead by asking her about her corsets, as Phryne could see she was preparing to do, she put in, ‘Yes, Miss May Cunliffe won the London-to-Cairo road race, and women currently hold a number of records in aviation. Are you interested in planes, Miss Fletcher?’
    ‘Of course not,’ snapped her mother. ‘Most unbecoming.’
    Judith, who had been about to reply, shut her mouth and turned a trying shade of brick-red.
    Gerald said hastily, ‘Do you fly, Miss Fisher?’
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    ‘Certainly,’ said Phryne. ‘Look me up when you’re in town and I’ll take you for a spin.’
    The young man lowered lavish eyelashes and murmured, ‘Oh,