Free Flying Too High by Kerry Greenwood Page B

name?’
    ‘Bill McNaughton. You might have read about it in the newspaper. Have you no fire in these rooms? I’m perishing.’
    Phryne went into Jillian’s office, and ensconced herself in front of a meagre kerosene heater.
    ‘Tell me all about it.’
    Phryne recounted the history and proceedings of the investigation, and Jillian pursed her lips.
    ‘And you are going to find the real murderer for him, are you?’
    ‘I’m going to try.’
    ‘Well, think carefully before you tell me what you find. They have a very slim case against your Bill. His finger-prints are not on the stone, and he says he was in the river valley. Two people are supposed to have seen him.’
    ‘Yes. And he is definitely not my Bill.’
    ‘Now what if you find these two people and they can’t remember seeing Bill? People are very unobservant. I would not trust any eyewitness evidence if it was served up to me on a plate. It is most unreliable. If you don’t find them, I can suggest that they exist but just haven’t been found. If you find ’em and they can be discounted as evidence, the prosecution has a weapon. See?’
    ‘I’m shocked,’ declared Phryne. ‘Have you no regard for truth?’
    ‘If you had entered the law, you will know that truth is a very dicey quality. “What is truth?” said Pilate, and I have always thought he must have been a solicitor. However, I’ll apply for bail tomorrow, and see if the police have any objections. It depends on who the prosecutor is, and the informant.’
    ‘I think the informant must be Detective-inspector Benton.’ Jillian groaned, and made a note. ‘I ought to charge double for dealing with him. He has a theory, I gather?’
    ‘Yes, that Bill lured his father out onto the tennis-court and hit him with a rock imported for the purpose.’
    ‘Then he’ll stick to it through thick, thin, and soupy. I’ve had some struggles with him. I’ve never met such a stubborn man in my entire life,’ said Jillian, rubbing her hands, and seeming to relish a new conflict. ‘Well, well, good old Benton. This may be fun. Am I definitely retained? You have the family’s authority?’
    ‘Yes, I do, and you are retained like billy-o. Go to it and the Lord speed your footsteps. Now I’ve got to go and see a sculptor. Miss McNaughton has two thou in cash—will that cover the surety?’
    ‘I think so. We may have to go to the Supreme Court tomorrow, if the Magistrate won’t cooperate. Will the old bank account stand that?’
    ‘It will. Got to go, Jilly. See you tomorrow at ten.’
    ‘I shall be there,’ said Jillian smugly. ‘And you shall have Bill shortly after.’
    Phryne retrieved her taxi and set off for the studio of Paolo Ragazzi.

Chapter Six
I can resist anything except temptation
Lady Windermere’s Fan , Oscar Wilde
    The studio of Paolo Raguzzi was on the third floor of a rundown boarding house at the depressed end of Princes Street. Phryne trod slowly up the stairs, the lift being out of order, and knocked on a flimsy wooden door. Something loud and vaguely operatic was playing on a gramophone inside. Phryne knocked again.
    The door was flung open by a girl in a coat and hat.
    ‘Oh, good, dearie, you’re just in time. He’s doing his block in there. I told him that I’d have to leave early but he just keeps going on about his nymph. Good luck, and don’t take no notice. He ain’t bad; just loud.’ So saying, she tripped lightly down the stairs and Phryne was confronted with a burst of what she assumed were swear words in Italian. They proceeded from behind a beaded curtain, and a voice yelled, ‘ Avanti! Vieni, vieni qua, signorina . I haven’t got all night and you’re letting the cold in. Come along! I won’t bite, whatever Mary told you at the door.’
    This sounded promising and the voice was light and pleasant, so Phryne brushed the beads aside and went in.
    The studio was a large, light room, with the winter sun fading through the skylight. At one end was the