Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

18 Kerry Greenwood
‘Simon, yeled tov, good boy!’ exclaimed Solly, clapping him
on the back. ‘So, we get the book, we find the formula, we give
it to the people we know of, and…’
‘Next year,’ said David Kaplan, ‘in Jerusalem.’
999
Simon still felt bad. He did not want to be thanked for his part
in this trap which Miss Fisher was constructing at the Eastern
Market. He wandered about a little, bought a bunch of cornflowers,
his mother’s favourite, and was waiting for a tram when a car
pulled up beside him and a familiar voice invited, ‘Get in.’
Simon and the cornflowers did as they were instructed.
999
‘No, I don’t know where he is,’ Phryne told Mrs. Abrahams,
now sounding shrill. ‘I haven’t seen him. Have you tried
Kadimah?’
‘The caretaker I sent down special to see if he was there,’ said
Julia Abrahams. ‘Been there, the young men said, gone hours
ago. Where can he be?’
‘I’ll find him,’ Phryne assured her. ‘And I’ll send him home.’
‘Is he all right?’ wailed Mrs. Abrahams.
‘I don’t know, but I expect so.’ Phryne was not at all sure. The
young man should have surfaced from even the most monumental
sulk by now. ‘But I’ll find him,’ she promised.
‘Such a clip I’ll give him when he gets here,’ said Mrs.
Abrahams, and rang off, only slightly mollified.
Phryne dined early and well with her conspirators. Bert and Cec
had borrowed suitable garments for moving large boxes. Phryne
was dressed in men’s clothes, suitable for whatever might happen.
She had serge trousers, men’s shoes and a soft dark shirt, and looked
almost epicene to eyes unused to women in trousers.
There was a rumbling in the sky as they left. The air was
close and very hot.
‘Thunder tonight,’ said Bert, looking at the sullen sky.
‘There’s going to be a storm,’ agreed Robinson.