Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

1 0 Kerry Greenwood
wardress at the proper distance. In that moment she realized that
her body belonged to the State, that she would never be free, and
that her days on earth had been numbered by men who would
shortly judge her, condemn her and kill her. And that there was
nothing at all she could do to affect her fate.
She would have run if there had been anywhere to run, but
she was still Miss Lee, who prided herself on her control.
Inside her, someone was weeping hysterically.
The journey seemed to last for years. Miles of disinfected
corridors were passed. They reached the Governor’s office,
and she stood at attention before it as the wardress negotiated
entry. It was not until she smelt Nuit D’Amour perfume in
the Governor’s office that she began to hope. No one in prison
smelt of anything but soap. The scent emanated from a small
woman with Dutch-doll hair, a jewel-blue dress and cloche and
a handful of papers. She was flanked by a plain young woman
in beige linen and a policeman with a forgettable face.
‘Miss Lee, I’ve come to take you home,’ said Phryne.
‘You’ve found the murderer?’ Miss Lee fought down elation.
‘We soon will. But the police know that it isn’t you. Have you
got everything? Good. Here is the order for release, here is Jack
Robinson to confirm that there are no charges against you and
that you are a pure and stainless soul, and here is my companion,
Dot, who is going to stay with you for today. I know you would
rather be alone, but we still have a few ends to tie up. This way,
Miss Lee,’ said Phryne.
Miss Lee found herself holding out her hand to the Governor,
and almost thanked her for having her.
‘Goodbye, Miss Lee,’ said the thin woman, and smiled
bleakly. ‘Congratulations.’
‘Thank you,’ gasped Miss Lee, who had regained her honorific
with her freedom.
It was not until the last set of prison doors shut behind her
that she found herself wondering if she would ever get to the
fifth declension—res, fides and spes.