Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Raisins and Almonds
Simon hoped that the Levins were better informed about
the laws than he was.
999
Detective Inspector Robinson was tired. He hated arresting
women for murder, especially real ladies like Miss Lee, and he
was no further along in his case. His chief was getting testy and
when he got real testy, bulls with sore feet were kindergarten
children compared to him. He hated the heat, and the papers
were saying that the next day was going to be stinking. Phryne
waited as he put down a large buff folder on the table, ostentatiously
turned his back on it, and was conducted to a small
table laid with an embroidered cloth. It depicted a garland of
native slipper orchids and maidenhair fern. Phryne had ordered
it made especially for him. He liked it; the orchids were botanically
correct. He slumped down into a comfortable chair and
was supplied by Mr. Butler with a cup of very strong, very sweet
tea. On the table reposed an array of scones, strawberry jam and
cream, and a copy of The Hawklet, a pink periodical emanating
from Little Lonsdale Street which was guaranteed to elevate and
amuse a tired police officer.
‘Adultery and Divorce!’ screamed the headline. ‘Hotel Maid’s
Evidence!’
The Detective Inspector split a scone, slathered it with jam
and cream, sighed happily and began to read.
Phryne took the buff folder and extracted the autopsy report
on one Shimeon Ben Mikhael otherwise known as Simon
Michaels, native of Salonika. As she read she made notes, and
tried not to think of a dark young man dissected on a cold marble
table. Much better to just think of him as a body.
Observations: a tall young man somewhat underweight,
bearded, recently washed and healthy. Some bruises on the
right knee and hip, as though he had recently fallen, probably
sustained in the spasm which had also cracked his spine. Small
transverse cut on the ball of the right index finger. A clean cut,
probably from a razor or from the edge of a piece of paper. The