Jack smells the gunpowder’s metallic threat just moments before—
* * *
“You can,” Jack argues. “You’re more than just sharp eyes. You have an even sharper mind. Now think—you said it was a telephone call that led you to the warehouse. What about the voice told you the danger was real?”
Phryne remains silent. Jack squeezes her hands in his own warm, grounding touch.
"They sounded... calm."