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084. Lavender

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“An interesting posy.” Phryne lifts a small bouquet from the side table. The body’s left hand is still reaching up towards the flowers, blank eyes staring at their attached calling-card. Phryne removes the card to read the spidering script. “‘From A Stranger.’ How intriguing.” She sniffs delicately at the blooms. “Lavender. Lovely.”

“And cryptic,” Jack says absently. He’s busy examining the large, dark stain beneath the body. “It can mean both ‘devotion’ and ‘distrust.’”

“Why, Jack!” Phryne smiles. “I didn’t think you knew the language of flowers.”

Jack looks up just to smile back. “I am a gentleman, Miss Fisher.”