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He had already purchased his ticket when he spotted it in the paper.
"Wedding bells are in the air for the renowned Melbourne socialite ... Honourable Miss Fisher's return to London society ... whirlwind romance with the dashing Sir Charles Wellesley ... celebrated by a large circle of friends and well-wishers, etc."
The words swam together on the page; he crumpled the newspaper and tossed it in the wastebasket. The ticket followed shortly after.
Back in London, Phryne was missing Dot and Jack terribly. Her mother was no substitute as an investigative partner.
Lady Fisher twisted her bracelets nervously, "I just think these methods are rather ... drastic."
Phryne studied her evidence and stifled her sigh of annoyance. "It's not like I'm really going to marry him, mother."
"I just feel you could have obtained the information without this, er, pretend engagement. This could all go so terribly wrong."
She waved her mother's concerns away. "It'll all sort itself out soon enough, mother."
Back in her morgue, Mac perused Phryne's latest letter, enjoying the details of her London investigation. A Sir Charles had three fiancées mysteriously disappear, but he'd made a mistake when he chose Phryne to be his fourth.
She chuckled at Phryne's description of her fiance's horror when she arrested him.
The end of the letter gave her some concern though: Any news from our favourite Detective Inspector? I'd rather thought I'd hear from him long before this.
Mac groaned, realizing why Jack Robinson had so miserable lately.
"Fools" she muttered under her breath, and started scribbling a note of explanation to Jack.