The Green Mill Murder Read Online Free

was summoned before he could develop his theme. Phryne did not mention that her last case had required her to be more familiar with brothels than she would have liked. Instead she said, ‘How long have you been playing?’
    Rodgers replaced the cornet in its case with loving care. ‘Ten years or so, what’s it to you?’
    ‘Nothing, nothing. This is called Civilised Conversation. I thought that you could do with a few lessons. We are trapped here until Detective Inspector Robinson has completed his inquiries. If you would prefer to prowl and snarl, my dear Mr Rodgers, don’t let me detain you.’
    The band held their breath. Rodgers stared at Phryne as though she had dropped in from another planet. He drew a deep breath, as though about to bellow, then changed his mind and flung off to circle the dance floor again.
    ‘You took a risk,’ commented Hugh Anderson. ‘He’s got a foul temper, but trumpeters . . .’
    ‘Are like that. What about you, Mr Anderson?’
    ‘I’m a medical student at Melbourne University, Miss Fisher, and I fell in love with jazz.’
    ‘And he’s very good,’ added Iris. ‘A natural with clarinet and sax. Only trouble is getting him to study enough to pass the exams. Then he’ll be a real Doctor Jazz.’
    Hugh blushed again. Iris smiled fondly on him.
    ‘And you, Miss Jordan?’
    ‘I’m a physical culture teacher,’ said Iris, straightening her back and flexing a few muscles. ‘Swedish massage and hydrotherapy and food reform, you know.’
    ‘I’ll never get a chance to practise on Iris,’ said Hugh sadly, then recognised his double entendre and blushed afresh. ‘I mean, she’s so healthy. A bacterium wouldn’t dare go near her.’
    ‘Got my own practice,’ added Iris Jordan. ‘Old ladies and athletes, both obsessed with their bodies. A few months with me and they are healthy, all right.’
    Phryne could believe it. Iris looked perfectly capable of forcing someone into health by sheer example. ‘And I heard some jazz from one of my patients—Jim Hyde, who had trouble with his hands. So I gave him some exercises, and then I came along. The bass isn’t so hard to play, though I still need music. The others just improvise. Why this cop wants to talk to all of us, I can’t imagine. I didn’t see a thing until Ten stopped us and went down to see what was wrong. I think he’s calling me at last.’ Iris crossed the floor to where Robinson waited with his constable and his note book.
    Phryne was left with Hugh.
    ‘Did you see anything?’ she asked.
    ‘Not really. I was watching the floor, like I always do, and I think I saw him fall, but that’s all. I hope they won’t get me in bad with the uni! I’m in fourth year now, start my internship next year.’
    ‘Where?’
    ‘Well, I was rather hoping to specialise in gynaecology. Pity the Queen Victoria Hospital won’t take male doctors, though I can understand why. So it will have to be the Women’s.’
    ‘I know a doctor at the Queen Vic. Doctor MacMillan. She can give you a few pointers, perhaps.’
    ‘Really? That would be wizard! We hardly see any real doctors, you know, only consultants who whistle past in a godlike state and then whistle off again. I think Iris has a point about medicine, you know. We tend to treat the disease, not the whole person. And she gets some amazing results. Science isn’t everything, though don’t tell any of my lecturers that I said so. Gotta go, Miss Fisher, the policeman beckons. Will we see you again?’
    ‘Oh, I expect so,’ agreed Phryne, alone on the dais.
    Questioned and released, Phryne had paused only to press her card on Tintagel Stone before leaving the Green Mill and finding her car. The big red Hispano-Suiza, her extravagance and delight, was parked opposite Young and Jackson’s, and her chauffeur Mr Butler was asleep in the front seat, cap over eyes. The band, carrying an assortment of instruments and illicit bottles, were trailing along Flinders Street and passed