Murder in the Dark Read Online Free PDF

around where he had been licking. She placed spoon, cream and cat on the floor of the scullery and shut the door on the furry, purring thief.
    ‘There,’ said Jane, patting Ruth’s trembling shoulder. ‘It’s all right. No one will know. I’ve seen Mrs Butler do similar things. Now you take the pudding and I’ll take the cream and the sauce and off we go.’
    She gave her foster sister a push and Ruth bore the pudding into the dining room.
    The pudding cloth had peeled perfectly. The pudding squatted, spherical and smooth, without a blemish. Ruth accepted the company’s compliments. Phryne gave her a shrewd look and a glass of sweet muscat, instructing her to drink up and recruit her strength after such hard work. Ruth did so, gasped, and shook herself. Of course it would be all right. She didn’t even wince when Lady Alice took whipped cream and brandy sauce with her pudding.
    The feast trailed off into spoonfuls of iced lemon sorbet, strong coffee, mince pies and little chocolates. Then Phryne betook herself to the kitchen and sent her guests to their rooms to have a siesta.
    ‘I washed dishes for a living,’ she told Ruth, who protested. ‘Before I made more money as a model. You and Jane go and lie down for a couple of hours. Then we shall have tea and crackers and carols and presents,’ she promised.
    Ruth waited until she saw Miss Phryne fill both sinks in a no-nonsense fashion and begin on the glasses before she allowed herself to be persuaded away. Jane flung herself down to read some more Darwin and Ruth fell asleep instantly, her tired feet elevated on a pillow. Miss Eliza led Lady Alice to the guest bedroom for a little nap. Phryne washed dishes.
    She rather liked washing dishes, if she didn’t have to do it for a living. And provided there were gallons of fresh hot water and soda and soap. When she had got to the pots, she left them to soak for a while and brewed herself some more coffee. She became aware of a mewing noise in the scullery.
    ‘Ah, she said, opening the door and taking in the licked clean spoon and the offended cat. ‘So you like whipped cream, eh? I might have guessed it. If you come out,’ she hinted, ‘there is a plate of carefully cut-up goose scraps for you which some kind girl has prepared and which you do not deserve in the slightest.’
    Ember emerged, gave himself a fast once-over wash to demonstrate how he felt about being deprived of a bowl of cream which he had personally hunted down, and addressed himself to the goose. Molly came in, having demolished her mountain of scraps, and flopped down under the table, full to satiety for the first time in her deprived life. And Phryne scrubbed and drained pots, finding that the baking dish had been admirably nibbled clean by the dog. She finished the task and took her coffee into the garden.
    The salt wind from the sea, which burned all vegetation in summer, was in Phryne’s garden foiled by large screens of bamboo, unkillable by any earthly force. The delicate trailers and vines sheltered behind the bamboo, able to grow higher than the fence without being blighted instantly. The jasmine was in bloom. The sun was not too hot and Phryne basked a little, very happy in her own house and her own company.
    Then she mounted the stairs for a little nap before tea, and presents, and carols.
    Christmas carols were playing on the gramophone. The tea tray was prepared. Phryne, in a loose gown, presided as Ruth and Jane alternated in taking parcels from under the glorious gold and silver tree.
    ‘Miss Phryne,’ said Jane anxiously. Phryne opened it. Inside was a small, cambric handkerchief with a slightly wobbly orchid embroidered on the corner. Blood spots had not quite washed out of it.
    ‘Jane,’ said Phryne warmly, ‘how lovely. What a good choice of flower.’ She tucked it into her pocket so that the orchid showed. Jane let out her held breath.
    ‘Jane,’ said Ruth. Jane unwrapped a book. ‘ Gray’s Anatomy ,’ said Phryne.