Just Murdered

by Katherine Kovacic

  ‘What?’ Peregrine continued to stare as Birdie came up and put an arm around her shoulder.

  ‘Someone told me you needed a housewarming party,’ she said quietly.

  Peregrine pulled Birdie into a hug, briefly meeting resistance before Birdie relaxed and returned the gesture.

  ‘I’m only sorry we didn’t get a chance to have a party before …’ Birdie’s voice wavered.

  ‘Me too,’ Peregrine murmured. ‘Me too.’

  Birdie increased the strength of her hug then released Peregrine. ‘Let’s show Peregrine how the Adventuresses party!’ she shouted.

  Violetta came forward, arms outstretched to Peregrine. She grabbed her by the hands and stood back, holding Peregrine’s arms out wide and taking in the black dress.

  ‘Is that one of Florence’s creations?’ she gasped.

  Peregrine nodded. A tear glinted briefly in the corner of her eye, but she blinked it away.

  ‘Tu sei bellissima! You look beautiful, Peregrine.’ Violetta let go of Peregrine’s hands and pulled her into an embrace. ‘Welcome to your home. Welcome to the family!’

  ‘Thank you, Violetta.’ Peregrine hugged her back.

  ‘Now! Music!’ Violetta let go and moved off into the crowd, weaving her way over to the record player.

  Peregrine remained where she was, looking at the happy faces, hearing the laughter. She closed her eyes and realised that for the first time in recent memory she felt content. When she opened her eyes again, Samuel was smiling at her.

  He was standing over at the cocktail cabinet, glasses and bottles lined up, garnish, jiggers, strainers and muddlers laid out as though he was preparing for surgery. He called out a greeting then held a bottle aloft, waggling it invitingly. Peregrine laughed, and nodded. Then, remembering last time, she went to join him to see what he was making.

  ‘I’m going to invent something in honour of the occasion,’ he said.

  Rock’n’roll music suddenly filled the room, and Peregrine was surprised to see that not only was the very prim and proper Professor Violetta Fellini dancing the Watusi, she was really good at it. Clearly there was more to Violetta than just science.

  Samuel said something that Peregrine didn’t hear. She shook her head and pointed to her ear.

  ‘I said’—Samuel leaned in close—‘what happened to the goddess?’ He nodded towards the end of the cocktail cabinet.

  Peregrine stared at him, thinking she’d misheard. ‘What did you say?’

  Samuel shook his head and mouthed, ‘Never mind.’

  ‘No!’ Peregrine grabbed his sleeve. ‘What did you say?’

  ‘What happened to the goddess?’ he yelled.

  ‘I can hear you, you don’t have to shout,’ said Peregrine. ‘I just wasn’t sure I heard you right. What goddess?’

  Samuel’s raised voice had caught Birdie’s attention and she appeared on his other side. ‘Is everything okay?’ She had a handful of nuts and popped a couple in her mouth.

  ‘I just noticed Phryne’s goddess is missing.’ Samuel pointed to the empty space on the end of the cocktail cabinet.

  ‘Huh. So it is,’ said Birdie.

  ‘Stop!’ Peregrine held up her hands. ‘Would one of you please explain? What goddess?’

  Birdie frowned at her. ‘A small statue of the goddess Isis. Your aunt kept it there. Said she liked it because Isis had incredibly strong powers; she resurrected her dead husband, you know.’

  Peregrine, eyes wide, abandoned them abruptly and ran across the lounge and into the den. She emerged moments later carrying the small statue.

  ‘That’s it,’ said Samuel.

  ‘Yes.’ Peregrine was staring closely at the statue, turning it this way and that. ‘I think this is it. Because that’s what it said in my aunt’s notebook. She compared Madame Lyon to a goddess who guards secrets! Aha!’ Peregrine was holding the statue upside down and now she dug a fingernail into one corner. The base came away, revealing the statue’s hollow core.

  And something else.

  Peregrine turned the statue over and shook it. A small roll of film fell into the palm of her waiting hand.

  Birdie, Peregrine and Samuel stared at it, then at each other.

  ‘That’s film from the miniature movie camera I made for your aunt!’ Samuel exclaimed.

  Peregrine put the statue to one side and carefully unrolled a few inches of film, holding it up to the light. Then, as Birdie and Samuel crowded round, she unrolled a bit more.

  ‘Is that … ?’ asked Samuel, tilting his head almost ninety degrees to the right.

  ‘The Chief Commissioner of Police? Enjoying some of Madame Lyon’s more … exotic skills? Yes. Yes, it is,’ said Birdie. ‘Definitely a side of him I’ve never seen before.’

  Peregrine unrolled another inch of film. ‘Ew! I did not need to see that.’

  ‘What are you looking at?’ Violetta, flushed and slightly dishevelled, had joined them without anyone noticing. She examined the strip of film and gasped. ‘Is that Inspector Sparrow?’

  ‘Impossible to be sure from that angle,’ said Peregrine. ‘But the commissioner seems to be in almost every frame.’ She let go of the end of the film and it curled back into a roll. ‘Now we know why Sparrow was so keen to get his mitts on this.’ With careful hands, she tucked the film back inside the statue and replaced the base. ‘Isis has kept it safe for this long; she may as well hold on to it.’

  ‘Perhaps I should make a copy?’ suggested Samuel. ‘Additional insurance?’

  ‘If you can stand to look at it long enough.’ Birdie had poured herself a double shot of whisky and downed it in one go.

  ‘Let’s forget about Sparrow for one night,’ said Peregrine. ‘We’ll have plenty of time to deal with that.’

  ‘An excellent suggestion! Samuel! Where are these drinks you’re supposed to be making?’ Birdie set her tumbler down with a clunk.

  ‘Actually, I think this calls for champagne! I took the liberty of selecting something from the cellar earlier.’ Samuel matched his words by thumbing the cork from a bottle of Piper-Heidsieck, sending it towards the ceiling with a satisfyingly loud pop. He filled four hollow-stemmed glasses, passing them out and taking the last one for himself.

  ‘What shall we drink to?’ asked Violetta.

  Birdie raised her glass. ‘To the Fisher women, Phryne and Peregrine. Remarkable women, Adventuresses extraordinaire, treasured friends!’

  Peregrine, Violetta and Samuel brought their glasses up in response.

  ‘Treasured friends!’

  Writing Peregrine has been such a joy! Deb Cox, Fiona Eagger and Mike Jones at Every Cloud Productions—thank you so much for entrusting me with your marvellous heroine. Thanks to the Allen & Unwin team, particularly my wonderful publisher, Annette Barlow, and editor, Courtney Lick, for all your hard work, feedback and enthusiasm. Thank you also to Ali Lavau for your editing prowess.

  Finally, special thanks to Sisters in Crime Australia for all the support you continue to give to women crime writers.