Lee ran her fingers through her short hair and groaned.
'He was just a carter, in gloves and boots and overalls and a greasy cloth cap—rather stout like they often are, dark, I thought, and gruff. But he did look at the books while I made him wait. I really didn't see his face, Miss Williams. Is it important?'
'Probably not,' conceded Dorothy. 'What about the woman with the atlas?'
'Oh, my dear, she was raddled and forty if she was a day, dressed in a rather tight dark blue suit and a perfectly absurd hat. It was a broad black straw with half a seagull on the side and shells all round the crown, I noticed it particularly because I really wanted to ... visit the convenience, and she was holding me up. She was asking me such silly questions and all I could see of her was this awful hat. She was small. About five foot.'
And common?' asked Dot, who had strong views on style.
'Oh, very. And foreign. Then two young men, friends, I gathered that they worked in the city. They had nice suits, a little loud perhaps. They were probably mechanics, or maybe something horsy.' Miss Lee's fine nose crinkled. 'They had a rather ... gamy smell. Then after that it was quiet and I could go to the convenience, and when I got back there was poor Mr Michaels and this all happened. Will this help?' she asked, and Dot patted her hand.
'Yes,' she said with perfect faith. 'Miss Phryne will find them.'
Phryne Fisher had dressed carefully for her encounter with Rabbi Elijah. She wore a black suit, the straight skirt reaching almost to her ankles, and a close-fitting black hat. Simon was impressed at how decorous she looked until she gave him a sensual smile which disturbed his equanimity.
'What do I call this rabbi?'
'He probably won't speak to you, don't be too offended, Phryne. He isn't supposed to talk to ... er ...'
'Shiksas?'
'Er ... yes. Call him Rabbi, if he speaks to you. Also, you must not touch him, in case you might be ritually unclean. Menstruating, you know,' blushed Simon. 'But you might catch his interest if you can show him the papers.'
'I can but try,' Phryne shrugged and got out of the car.
'He lives over there—and—what luck, Phryne!' exclaimed the young man. 'There he is, walking along there with all those children. Oh, no ...' he groaned, as Phryne saw what was happening and moved without thinking.
A ring of grubby children were dancing around an elderly man who was standing still, as though they had trapped him in a magic circle. They looked positively Pixie O'Harris if you could not hear what they were saying, thought Phryne, as she crossed the road at her fastest run and grabbed the biggest assailant by the ear.
'Yid, yid, yid.' The chant stopped abruptly.
'And just what are you doing?' she snarled at the largest child, suspending him painfully by the lobe.
'He's a yid,' he protested.
'Very clever. So he is. Is that a reason for tormenting him?'
'It's only what Dad says,' offered one child, biting her plait.
'What does Dad say?'
'That they're yids.'
'Then your dad is a bigoted idiot and you'll grow up the same.' Phryne was furious. The child she had by the ear began to cry.
'We didn't know it was wrong, Miss,' he pleaded.
'Well, you know now,' snapped Phryne. 'Now get home, you horrible little ratbags, and if I catch you doing such a thing again I shall take you all home to your mothers and order the biggest belting—you won't sit down for a month. Is that clear?' She thrust her face close to the terrified blubbering countenance, and he nodded.
'Go away right now,' said Phryne, dropping him and dusting her hands together. The children ran for their lives.
'You should not have done that, Miss,' said the old man softly.
'Why not?' Phryne was not noticeably softened.
'It will cause more trouble.'
'If people of goodwill do not act against evil, then they assent to evil,' said Phryne sententiously.
The quotation from Maimonides stopped the old man in his tracks. Phryne looked up into his face.
He was
'He was just a carter, in gloves and boots and overalls and a greasy cloth cap—rather stout like they often are, dark, I thought, and gruff. But he did look at the books while I made him wait. I really didn't see his face, Miss Williams. Is it important?'
'Probably not,' conceded Dorothy. 'What about the woman with the atlas?'
'Oh, my dear, she was raddled and forty if she was a day, dressed in a rather tight dark blue suit and a perfectly absurd hat. It was a broad black straw with half a seagull on the side and shells all round the crown, I noticed it particularly because I really wanted to ... visit the convenience, and she was holding me up. She was asking me such silly questions and all I could see of her was this awful hat. She was small. About five foot.'
And common?' asked Dot, who had strong views on style.
'Oh, very. And foreign. Then two young men, friends, I gathered that they worked in the city. They had nice suits, a little loud perhaps. They were probably mechanics, or maybe something horsy.' Miss Lee's fine nose crinkled. 'They had a rather ... gamy smell. Then after that it was quiet and I could go to the convenience, and when I got back there was poor Mr Michaels and this all happened. Will this help?' she asked, and Dot patted her hand.
'Yes,' she said with perfect faith. 'Miss Phryne will find them.'
Phryne Fisher had dressed carefully for her encounter with Rabbi Elijah. She wore a black suit, the straight skirt reaching almost to her ankles, and a close-fitting black hat. Simon was impressed at how decorous she looked until she gave him a sensual smile which disturbed his equanimity.
'What do I call this rabbi?'
'He probably won't speak to you, don't be too offended, Phryne. He isn't supposed to talk to ... er ...'
'Shiksas?'
'Er ... yes. Call him Rabbi, if he speaks to you. Also, you must not touch him, in case you might be ritually unclean. Menstruating, you know,' blushed Simon. 'But you might catch his interest if you can show him the papers.'
'I can but try,' Phryne shrugged and got out of the car.
'He lives over there—and—what luck, Phryne!' exclaimed the young man. 'There he is, walking along there with all those children. Oh, no ...' he groaned, as Phryne saw what was happening and moved without thinking.
A ring of grubby children were dancing around an elderly man who was standing still, as though they had trapped him in a magic circle. They looked positively Pixie O'Harris if you could not hear what they were saying, thought Phryne, as she crossed the road at her fastest run and grabbed the biggest assailant by the ear.
'Yid, yid, yid.' The chant stopped abruptly.
'And just what are you doing?' she snarled at the largest child, suspending him painfully by the lobe.
'He's a yid,' he protested.
'Very clever. So he is. Is that a reason for tormenting him?'
'It's only what Dad says,' offered one child, biting her plait.
'What does Dad say?'
'That they're yids.'
'Then your dad is a bigoted idiot and you'll grow up the same.' Phryne was furious. The child she had by the ear began to cry.
'We didn't know it was wrong, Miss,' he pleaded.
'Well, you know now,' snapped Phryne. 'Now get home, you horrible little ratbags, and if I catch you doing such a thing again I shall take you all home to your mothers and order the biggest belting—you won't sit down for a month. Is that clear?' She thrust her face close to the terrified blubbering countenance, and he nodded.
'Go away right now,' said Phryne, dropping him and dusting her hands together. The children ran for their lives.
'You should not have done that, Miss,' said the old man softly.
'Why not?' Phryne was not noticeably softened.
'It will cause more trouble.'
'If people of goodwill do not act against evil, then they assent to evil,' said Phryne sententiously.
The quotation from Maimonides stopped the old man in his tracks. Phryne looked up into his face.
He was
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