Raisins and almonds - Poisoned Pen Press (UK)

Kerry Greenwood
the delicate draperies of the overgown flowed. It was suggestive
but not obscene.
‘And how do we find someone who has just come into the
Eastern Market on the off chance—they might be from anywhere,’
continued Dot. ‘They might have just come into the
city for the day from—oh, I don’t know, Bendigo—and might
not read the papers.’
‘Or they might have been run over by a tram just outside, or
be deaf and dumb, or living in a cellar,’ agreed Phryne. ‘Yes, I
know. It’s going to be very difficult. But we need to find them.
Also, can you call Bert and Cec for me? Ask them to lunch. The
Eastern Market is full of carters and labourers. I need to know
what happened to that rat poison, and I need someone on the
inside. I have a feeling that this all centres on that market.’
‘Why?’ asked Dot.
‘Just a feeling. Oh, and Dot dear, make sure that Mr. Butler
locks all the doors and windows tonight, will you?’
‘Miss…’ said Dot, her brow creasing in a frown. ‘Is this case
dangerous?’
‘No more than any of the others,’ said Phryne airily. ‘Now,
how do I look?’ She turned, watching the draped chiffon fall
into place. ‘Nice. Very nice. Tomorrow you can go and see Miss
Lee again and extract from her memory every detail about her
customers that morning, all right? And now I really must go,’
she added, patting Dot on the cheek. ‘Won’t be late. This evening
may be something of a trial, I fear. Mrs. Abrahams cannot
possibly approve of me.’
Phryne arrived at the Abrahams’ East Kew mansion in her
big red car and drove it neatly up the driveway to park next to
the big Rolls. A driver, collar unbuttoned, leapt to his feet and
dropped his newspaper and his cigarette at the sight of one
slender leg revealed up to the thigh as she alighted. Phryne
grinned at him.
‘Mind her for me, will you?’ she asked.
‘Strewth,’ said the driver. ‘She’s a beaut, ain’t she? Lagonda?’