drink some coffee and I’ll be fine.’
‘Good. I have Mr Adami’s package, which we shall open later.’
‘Tell us about your great-grandmother,’ said Ruth. ‘Was she very beautiful?’
‘Oh, indeed, Arcadia was a tall, strong, robust woman, big bosomed like the last century preferred, with china blue eyes and golden hair which almost reached her knees. She was an American, a rich heiress, but they say that after a few years she was an English aristocrat to a T. She fell in love with my scapegrace ancestor when he was rusticated to Chicago for some mad gamble on a cross-country horse race. She just bundled up her hair and kilted her skirt and followed him, despite what her papa said about penniless noblemen. And eventually her papa forgave her and handed over the dowry.’
‘And did they live happily ever after?’
‘Tolerably so,’ said Phryne, not wanting to bruise Ruth’s romantic heart. ‘They had eight children, and she transformed the big house: heating, lighting, plumbing. When she was old she used to have her chair pushed to the top of Dewberry Hill to watch all the lights put on at once, so that she could see the house lit up like a birthday cake. I’ve got some of her jewellery: the diamond tiara, parure, clips, earrings and bracelets. And the big ruby.’
‘Eton mess!’ exclaimed Dot as dessert and coffee were brought in. ‘Wonderful.’
Phryne stuck a pleased spoon into the mixture of raspberries, cream and broken meringues. Despite the feral weather, she felt that she was very lucky to be living at 221B the Esplanade, St Kilda, Victoria, Australia.
Jane stood herself on the hearth rug in the standard gentleman’s position, back to an imaginary fire, and began to expound.
‘With Mike’s help I managed to get two ounces of . . . the fluid.’ She was about to mention the absorption ratio of water into lungs in drowning and decided that her audience was far too squeamish. ‘Dr MacMillan said that there are two tests for saltiness. One is the silver nitrate test and one is the electrolysis test. We did the electrolysis test first because it doesn’t diminish the specimen. It’s easy. You just put the fluid in a chamber and pass a current through it and measure the amount of electricity which passes through it on an ammeter. Salty water conducts electricity while fresh water doesn’t. We had a standard seawater sample and ran a current through it with a set voltage. The ammeter showed point four of an amp. The same current passed through the sample would not necessarily mean it might be seawater, but it would be salty. In this case, we only got two thousandths of an amp.’
The flickering light was making even Jane’s round childish face hollowed and strange. No doubt, thought Phryne, the sibyls of the oracle of Apollo at Delphi had looked so, in their laurel-scented cavern over the abyss. And this was a modern sibyl, proclaiming the manner of a man’s death.
‘Then we took a small part of the sample and added silver nitrate, which, if there is salt, will precipitate a thick white paste like office glue. It didn’t. So from the tests, we knew that it didn’t conduct electricity and it didn’t precipitate silver,’ ended Jane, triumphantly.
She noticed that she had failed to carry her audience. Phryne, Ruth and Dot were looking at her in mute incomprehension.
‘So, what does that mean?’ asked Phryne, after a pause.
‘Oh,’ said Jane, making a mental note not to underestimate the scientific ignorance of the layperson. ‘He was drowned in fresh water, not salt. Dr MacMillan did a few more tests, which I would be happy to tell you about—’
‘Perhaps later,’ said Phryne. ‘What conclusion did you two alchemists come to?’
‘Oh, it was clear,’ said Jane. ‘Beyond doubt. He was drowned in fresh water with soap in it.’
The thunderstorm, feeling itself about to die, gave one last shattering crash which seemed to shake the house. The candles flickered.
Dot
‘Good. I have Mr Adami’s package, which we shall open later.’
‘Tell us about your great-grandmother,’ said Ruth. ‘Was she very beautiful?’
‘Oh, indeed, Arcadia was a tall, strong, robust woman, big bosomed like the last century preferred, with china blue eyes and golden hair which almost reached her knees. She was an American, a rich heiress, but they say that after a few years she was an English aristocrat to a T. She fell in love with my scapegrace ancestor when he was rusticated to Chicago for some mad gamble on a cross-country horse race. She just bundled up her hair and kilted her skirt and followed him, despite what her papa said about penniless noblemen. And eventually her papa forgave her and handed over the dowry.’
‘And did they live happily ever after?’
‘Tolerably so,’ said Phryne, not wanting to bruise Ruth’s romantic heart. ‘They had eight children, and she transformed the big house: heating, lighting, plumbing. When she was old she used to have her chair pushed to the top of Dewberry Hill to watch all the lights put on at once, so that she could see the house lit up like a birthday cake. I’ve got some of her jewellery: the diamond tiara, parure, clips, earrings and bracelets. And the big ruby.’
‘Eton mess!’ exclaimed Dot as dessert and coffee were brought in. ‘Wonderful.’
Phryne stuck a pleased spoon into the mixture of raspberries, cream and broken meringues. Despite the feral weather, she felt that she was very lucky to be living at 221B the Esplanade, St Kilda, Victoria, Australia.
Jane stood herself on the hearth rug in the standard gentleman’s position, back to an imaginary fire, and began to expound.
‘With Mike’s help I managed to get two ounces of . . . the fluid.’ She was about to mention the absorption ratio of water into lungs in drowning and decided that her audience was far too squeamish. ‘Dr MacMillan said that there are two tests for saltiness. One is the silver nitrate test and one is the electrolysis test. We did the electrolysis test first because it doesn’t diminish the specimen. It’s easy. You just put the fluid in a chamber and pass a current through it and measure the amount of electricity which passes through it on an ammeter. Salty water conducts electricity while fresh water doesn’t. We had a standard seawater sample and ran a current through it with a set voltage. The ammeter showed point four of an amp. The same current passed through the sample would not necessarily mean it might be seawater, but it would be salty. In this case, we only got two thousandths of an amp.’
The flickering light was making even Jane’s round childish face hollowed and strange. No doubt, thought Phryne, the sibyls of the oracle of Apollo at Delphi had looked so, in their laurel-scented cavern over the abyss. And this was a modern sibyl, proclaiming the manner of a man’s death.
‘Then we took a small part of the sample and added silver nitrate, which, if there is salt, will precipitate a thick white paste like office glue. It didn’t. So from the tests, we knew that it didn’t conduct electricity and it didn’t precipitate silver,’ ended Jane, triumphantly.
She noticed that she had failed to carry her audience. Phryne, Ruth and Dot were looking at her in mute incomprehension.
‘So, what does that mean?’ asked Phryne, after a pause.
‘Oh,’ said Jane, making a mental note not to underestimate the scientific ignorance of the layperson. ‘He was drowned in fresh water, not salt. Dr MacMillan did a few more tests, which I would be happy to tell you about—’
‘Perhaps later,’ said Phryne. ‘What conclusion did you two alchemists come to?’
‘Oh, it was clear,’ said Jane. ‘Beyond doubt. He was drowned in fresh water with soap in it.’
The thunderstorm, feeling itself about to die, gave one last shattering crash which seemed to shake the house. The candles flickered.
Dot
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