Nothing To Fear
"Pleased to meet you, Christina... may I call you Christina? You can call me Phryne. I really don't like standing on formalities," Miss Fisher replies.
"First impressions can be quite telling, don't you think? You do not strike me as one of those that subscribe to normal conventions. Neither am I. If I did, I'd grow old serving tea and gossiping with my peers, and, frankly, I don't believe I have any."
"Not that I like to brag, but I can fly a plane. Have you tried it?"
She then studies the Doctor, as if to ascertain whether he is being serious or trying to be provocative.
"Do you mean Auguste Dupin? Or perhaps you are referring to Monsieur Lecoq, or even Tabaret himself. Both Joseph Bell and Henry Littlejohn should also be considered. Personally, I prefer Maximillien Heller. Holmes is the only one that was a consulting detective... a term he himself coined. His approach wasn't solving crimes, unless his assistance was requested, but solving problems that baffled everyone else. He filled a niche--he did what police wouldn't and often couldn't do."
"Yes, Amelia's situation is... unusual--one of those cases that the police wouldn't touch as they are incapable of believing their own eyes."
"For the record, she did not entrust the book to my care--she gave it to me. She wanted it out of her house and out of her life. I have yet to figure out what the book means. I have examined it; to me, it is just a child's book of dubious merit. Sigmund Freud notwithstanding, I do not see anything within its pages that should provoke such concerns."
"However, you may examine it if you wish. I left it on the kitchen table."
She heads out of the room for a moment. Then you hear her voice from presumably the kitchen.
"Dot! Did you move the book I left on the table?" You can't hear a response.
She returns quickly.
"Mr. Butler. Do you know what has happened to the book I left on the table? Has anyone else been in here since this morning?"
When she gets negative answers from Mr. Butler, a partially angry, partially concerned look appears on her face.
"It is gone. Perhaps young Samuel came back for it. Quick! We must go to Amelia's. I do believe the game's afoot!" she finished with a bright smile.
She seemed ready to go out at a moment's notice and headed for the front door, grabbing only a scarf off of the hatrack near the entrance.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:39, Mon 14 Jan 2019.