Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)
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Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK) Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

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Raisins and Almonds 1 ‘Ember thinks that Molly is his kitten,’ said Jane. ‘Well, that’s fine,’ said Cec. ‘Cats are good mothers.’ ‘But Ember is a boy cat,’ Jane pointed out. Bert said something like ‘Not any more,’ took a gulp of beer, and caught Simon’s shy smile. He grinned at the young man. Mr. Butler struck the gong—a custom on which he insisted—and they went into lunch. In deference to the weather, there were small egg and bacon tarts, a couple of cold chickens and a whole salmon on a bed of torn lettuce, lovingly enveloped in a mayonnaise cloak. It sat next to a neatly carved ham and a profusion of salads. Phryne, who loved beetroot, observed that it was in aspic and thus she might preserve her dress unstained. There was something about the nature of beetroot which made it fly as for refuge to the most expensive cloth available. Only the Chinese laundries could really remove beetroot stains. ‘Spinach salad and boiled eggs,’ said Mr. Butler. ‘Asparagus vinaigrette, Miss Fisher. Cucumber and onion. I hope all is to your satisfaction, Miss? Can I help you to some salmon?’ ‘Oh, you can,’ said Phryne, suddenly ravenous. Mrs. Butler’s mayonnaise was not made with condensed milk and mustard. It was an alchemical combination of oil and egg and, since it was to be for the salmon, lemon juice. It was delicious. So was the salmon, the scales and fins of which evidently had been the magnet which had drawn Ember that morning to disembowel the dustbin. Phryne had heard Mr. Butler grumbling about it in the yard. Ember was a cat with expensive tastes. The rest of the company was obviously as hungry as Phryne, and there was a clatter of cutlery as each diner marked down a dish as his or her own. Their tastes, luckily, were different. Simon took cold chicken and cucumber. Bert tucked into salmon mayonnaise as though he hadn’t been born in Fitzroy and had only seen them in tins. Cec had ham and salade Russe. He liked beetroot, too. Dot, who loved onions and sharp tastes, feasted on cucumber in vinegar, spinach and bread and butter. Jane preferred egg and bacon tart and Ruth a taste of everything on

Kerry Greenwood the table. Ruth had been hungry all her life until Phryne had rescued her, and still found such a variety and amount of food astonishing. If she struck a taste which did not please her, she swallowed it anyway and moved on to the next. Mr. Butler was quietly pleased. Mrs. B had been worried about the salmon. Cooking such a huge fish whole was a task requiring split second timing. One moment it was still grey and raw in the middle, the next falling off the bone and overdone. The kitchen had been tense all morning. Now he could tell her that it had gone down a treat. He might even get a taste of it himself. And tonight Mrs. B would be calm enough to appreciate the pictures. There was a new Norma Shearer, The Student Prince. It sounded good. Mr. Butler thought that Norma Shearer was a bit of all right. After about ten minutes, Phryne put down her fork and sighed. Nothing like food to centre the spirit and steady the nerves. The asparagus, particularly, had almost reconciled her to Rabbi Elijah. She sipped a little more of the new hock coming out of South Australia—quite good, if a little young to leave its mother—and said, ‘Ladies, gentlemen. We have a case.’ ‘Yair?’ asked Bert. ‘I suspicioned as much, but since you invited us to such a bonzer lunch me and Cec’ll listen to whatever you want to say.’ ‘Good. This is the Eastern Market murder; you’ve read about it?’ The company nodded. ‘Well, then, this is what happened.’ Phryne ran through the sequence of events as seen by Miss Lee. ‘I’m investigating the papers found in his pocket. They seem to have a Jewish connection. Dot, I want you to go to the Eastern Market and talk to the stallholders around Miss Lee’s shop. Someone must have noticed who came in and out that morning, and you might be able to find someone who knew the customers.’ ‘Someone ought to have noticed that hat,’ agreed Dot. ‘Even Miss Lee remembered it real well.’ ‘See what you can find out, Dot. And you Bert dear, I want you and Cec to take a job at the market, and see what there is to be seen.’

Kerry Greenwood<br />

the table. Ruth had been hungry all her life until Phryne had<br />

rescued her, <strong>and</strong> still found such a variety <strong>and</strong> amount of food<br />

astonishing. If she struck a taste which did not please her, she<br />

swallowed it anyway <strong>and</strong> moved on to the next. Mr. Butler was<br />

quietly pleased. Mrs. B had been worried about the salmon.<br />

Cooking such a huge fish whole was a task requiring split second<br />

timing. One moment it was still grey <strong>and</strong> raw in the middle, the<br />

next falling off the bone <strong>and</strong> overdone. The kitchen had been<br />

tense all morning. Now he could tell her that it had gone down<br />

a treat. He might even get a taste of it himself. And tonight Mrs.<br />

B would be calm enough to appreciate the pictures. There was a<br />

new Norma Shearer, The Student Prince. It sounded good. Mr.<br />

Butler thought that Norma Shearer was a bit of all right.<br />

After about ten minutes, Phryne put down her fork <strong>and</strong><br />

sighed. Nothing like food to centre the spirit <strong>and</strong> steady the<br />

nerves. The asparagus, particularly, had almost reconciled her to<br />

Rabbi Elijah. She sipped a little more of the new hock coming<br />

out of South Australia—quite good, if a little young to leave its<br />

mother—<strong>and</strong> said, ‘Ladies, gentlemen. We have a case.’<br />

‘Yair?’ asked Bert. ‘I suspicioned as much, but since you<br />

invited us to such a bonzer lunch me <strong>and</strong> Cec’ll listen to whatever<br />

you want to say.’<br />

‘Good. This is the Eastern Market murder; you’ve read about<br />

it?’ The company nodded. ‘Well, then, this is what happened.’<br />

Phryne ran through the sequence of events as seen by Miss<br />

Lee. ‘I’m investigating the papers found in his pocket. They<br />

seem to have a Jewish connection. Dot, I want you to go to the<br />

Eastern Market <strong>and</strong> talk to the stallholders around Miss Lee’s<br />

shop. Someone must have noticed who came in <strong>and</strong> out that<br />

morning, <strong>and</strong> you might be able to find someone who knew<br />

the customers.’<br />

‘Someone ought to have noticed that hat,’ agreed Dot. ‘Even<br />

Miss Lee remembered it real well.’<br />

‘See what you can find out, Dot. And you Bert dear, I want<br />

you <strong>and</strong> Cec to take a job at the market, <strong>and</strong> see what there is<br />

to be seen.’

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