From My Heart To Yours

<><><>

“Well,” Jack said, glancing at Mac as he started the engine. There was the hint of a smile on his lips. “I must admit – over ten years in the police force and this was a first.”

“Yes, it’s not every day one happens across a headless body,” Mac said dryly, biting back a smile. The scene had been rather sparse on clues; it appeared the body had been dragged into the bush after the murder, and the culprit had taken any means of identifying the victim with them. There were still officers searching for the head, while Hugh – who had looked rather green at the scene – had returned to City South to search the missing persons files in the hopes of identifying their victim, a task made significantly more difficult by the lack of a head.

“You know,” Mac said, “contrary to popular belief, decapitation is not that easy.”

“Hm.” Jack glanced at her, a smirk playing on his lips. “You don’t usually hear ‘popular’ and ‘decapitation’ in the same sentence.”

Mac bit back an amused smile. “It’s difficult to sever the spine; even harder to do it cleanly,” she explained. “Beheading a human is a lot easier than beheading most trophy animals, of course, considering the relative lack of musculature in our necks, but that doesn’t mean it’s easy. Just look at the number of botched beheadings throughout history. It requires a powerful, accurate action and a sharp, heavy blade.”

Jack didn’t take his eyes off the road, but his expression turned contemplative. “So you’re suggesting our killer knew what he was doing?”

“And had the proper tools,” Mac confirmed.

“A guillotine?” Jack glanced at her again curiously.

“Or a spear,” Mac said. “Didn’t you say there was an abattoir not far from where the body was found?”

Jack grimaced slightly. “I suppose a slaughter-man would know how to sever a spine,” he said.

“He’d also have the knowledge and tools to exsanguinate the corpse,” Mac said. “Beheading is extremely bloody business.”

“Well, I know my next stop then,” Jack said with a reluctant sigh. He didn’t sound particularly pleased about it, not that Mac could blame him. She knew that neither of them was particularly squeamish – a useful trait for both policework and doctoring – but Mac knew from personal experience that the sight and smell of that much blood could easily bring a war’s worth of painful memories rushing back, and she had a feeling that Jack knew it too.

“Would you like accompaniment on your visit?” Mac asked, careful to keep her tone neutral, though the look on Jack’s face when he glanced at her told her he knew what she was really asking.

“No, I can manage alone,” he said. He gave her a grateful smile. “But thank you for the offer, Doctor.”

<><><>

“I can cook, you know.”

Jack appeared rather offended at the apparent insinuation, Mac thought, doing her best not to laugh as she set the bag of food down on his desk. She was relieved to see no indications that the trip to the abattoir had triggered any wartime flashbacks.

“So I’ve heard,” she said, unable to hold back an amused smile as she unpacked the bag. “I, however, cannot, so it’s fish and chips or nothing.”

Jack perked up as she set a wrapped parcel of hot food in front of him, inhaling appreciatively as he hurried to clear room on his desk.

“And to what do I owe the pleasure?” he asked, raising an eyebrow curiously as he procured a bottle of whiskey and two glasses from a drawer in his desk. Mac took the proffered glass with a smile that widened when she took a sip of the amber liquid. She could certainly appreciate a man with good taste in whiskey.

“Well, seeing as I’ve apparently accepted Phryne’s role on this case in her absence,” she said, taking a seat opposite him, “I thought you might appreciate the company – and the food.”

Jack’s expression turned amused, and he gave her a pleased smile as he unwrapped their dinner. “Far be it from me to turn down a free meal,” he said, and Mac laughed.

“Yes, I’ve heard that too.”

Jack shrugged sheepishly, but there was a twinkle in his eye as he took a bite of fish. They ate in comfortable silence for a few minutes, until Mac finally spoke again, her tone intentionally innocent.

“So, have you made any headway on this case?”

Jack raised his eyebrows at her choice of words, but he failed to bite back an amused smile as Mac grinned mischievously.

“I did, actually,” he said, taking a sip of his drink.

“Oh?”

“Mm.” He sat forward, his expression turning serious again. “After I dropped you back at the morgue, I drove to the abattoir and talked with the owner. He said one of his workers didn’t show this morning, a man named Peter Dalton.”

Mac raised her eyebrows. “Did you get a description?”

Jack nodded. “It was a perfect match for the body we found.”

“Well, identification of the victim is a good first step,” Mac said. “Anything else?”

Jack nodded again. “We interviewed the workers. A few of them mentioned a fight between the victim and another worker, just two days ago.”

“Any idea what it was about?”

Jack shook his head. “No, but according to the witnesses it was very heated. One of the workers said it would have gotten physical if the owner hadn’t walked in.”

“Sounds like a promising suspect,” Mac mused. “Did you interview him?”

“No,” Jack said. “He’d already left for the day. Collins will bring him in tomorrow for questioning.”

“Good,” Mac said, reaching into her bag and pulling out a folder. “In the meantime, I’ve brought you my report. As expected, the beheading was the cause of death. No poisons in the bloodstream or anything else unusual about the body. I’d like to have a look at the spears at the abattoir though, see if anything matches the victim’s wounds.”

“Of course,” Jack said. His smile thinned and he went quiet, staring down at his whiskey. He suddenly looked very tired again.

“She’s coming back, you know,” Mac said, though there was an edge to her voice. She’d thought Jack had finally rid himself of the fear that Phryne would abandon him, but…

Jack looked up quickly. “I know she is,” he said, seeming genuinely surprised at her statement, and Mac relaxed. He glanced down again, fiddling with his glass for a moment, before lifting his head back up. “Truthfully, I… am no longer accustomed to living alone. It’s been a difficult adjustment,” he admitted.

“Ah,” Mac said, suddenly understanding. She sat back in her chair. “Yes, I would imagine so.”

“And without Jane as well,” Jack said ruefully. “The house feels rather empty, even when we have visitors.” He was quiet for another long moment. “This is also the longest Phryne and I have been apart since England.”

“Mm.” Phryne’s absence was clearly taking a toll on Jack, Mac thought, eyeing him carefully. “No offense, Inspector, but you do look rather tired.”

“I haven’t slept well recently,” Jack sighed, taking another sip of his drink.

“I would’ve thought you’d enjoy having the entire bed to yourself,” Mac teased lightly, pleased when Jack gave her a small smile. She knew all too well what it was like sharing a bed with Phryne – the woman was an octopus, and Mac had awoken countless times to find Phryne draped over her and all of the covers mysteriously on the opposite side of the bed.

“On the contrary, I’ve grown quite used to being used as a human pillow,” Jack said dryly, though the fondness in his eyes betrayed his sincerity.

Mac laughed. “I suppose the body heat makes up for the lack of blankets.”

Jack smiled at that, but he soon went quiet again. He glanced away from Mac, suddenly looking uncharacteristically anxious as he opened his mouth and then closed it again without speaking. Mac raised her eyebrows curiously as she waited for him to speak, and finally Jack looked back up at her.

“When Rosie… moved to her sister’s, it was very painful,” he said softly. “I know now that it was the best thing for us, that our marriage was damaged beyond repair and we were better off apart. And we had been emotionally separated for a long time before that,” he admitted. “But even still, it was difficult to adjust to suddenly being physically alone as well.” He looked down at his desk. “And I can’t help but be reminded of that.”

Mac was suddenly struck by the memory of a work conference not long after she and Rosie had moved in together. She’d only been gone for three nights, but Rosie had been unusually agitated and clingy when Mac returned, and it hadn’t taken long for Mac to figure out why that was.

“I’m not sure if it’s any consolation, Inspector, but you’re not the only one to have that experience,” Mac said.

Jack frowned slightly, looking concerned. “Rosie…?”

Mac nodded. “The first time I was called away for work. And I’ll tell you what I told her,” she said firmly. “It’s a perfectly understandable reaction. But just as I wasn’t gone, Phryne isn’t gone either.”

Jack took a deep breath and then nodded. “Thank you, Doctor,” he said after a moment, giving her a small smile.

“You’re welcome,” Mac said. She grinned slyly. “And look on the bright side – you’ve got another week of eating breakfast without someone stealing your toast.”

Jack chuckled as he relaxed back into his chair, smirking slightly. “And it’s been weeks since I last had to threaten to arrest her.”

Mac snickered. “You know she likes that,” she said, raising an eyebrow.

Jack flushed slightly and busied himself by pouring them both another drink, looking a bit sheepish despite his pleased smile.

“They’ll be back before you know it,” Mac assured him.

Jack nodded. “I’m glad they went,” he said. “I think it’s been good for Jane.”

Mac’s expression softened. She’d grown quite fond of Jane in the years since she’d become Phryne’s ward – the girl had an insatiable thirst for knowledge and a quick wit, two things that Mac greatly admired. Jane had spent many happy afternoons at their bungalow burying herself in Mac’s extensive book collection and had even accepted Rosie’s offer to teach her to play the piano, though Mac suspected that might have had more to do with the starry-eyed gaze that Jane was prone to when Rosie was around.

“Have you heard from them?” Mac asked.

“Phryne called two nights ago,” Jack said, smiling at the memory. “They’d spent the afternoon walking on the beach and collecting shells. Apparently Anna’s been doing well.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Mac said with relief, returning his smile. With Mac’s help, Phryne had found a discreet boarding house on the coast that housed women like Anna Ross, providing them a sheltered accommodation and medical care while allowing them to maintain some freedom. She’d arranged for Anna to move in, and from what Mac had heard, Anna had settled in well. Phryne had taken Jane to visit for a month during the summer holidays, and it appeared that Jane was enjoying the time spent with her mother.

“And Jane?” Mac asked. “How is she doing?”

“I believe she’s relieved that her mother is safe and well-cared for,” Jack said quietly. “As am I.”

“Yes,” Mac agreed. She chuckled lightly. “I don’t know how many times I’ve told Phryne she doesn’t have to save the world, and yet she never stops trying.”

“No she doesn’t,” Jack agreed, his expression endlessly fond.

Mac laughed again, giving Jack a sly smile. “Well,” she teased, “you and I have certainly got excellent taste in women.”

<><><>

“Evening, Inspector.” Mac accepted a glass of whiskey with a smile as she joined Jack in the parlor. “I’m flattered that my involvement on this case was deserving of a nightcap,” she teased.

Jack smiled as he returned to his spot by the fireplace, leaning against the mantel. “Well, we did solve the case,” he pointed out.

“Yes, I had an inkling,” Mac said, raising an eyebrow. “I received a special delivery this arvo. One head.”

Jack grimaced. “Not the most pleasant of gifts.”

Mac hummed her agreement as she took a sip of whiskey. “But you have someone in custody?” she asked.

Jack nodded. “Grant Alden, the man seen fighting with the victim. Turns out he lied about his alibi. He confessed today after being confronted about it.” Jack’s face darkened. “Mr. Dalton was having an affair with his wife.”

“The oldest reason in the book,” Mac sighed disdainfully. “At least he’s been apprehended.”

“Thanks to your help,” Jack said, giving her a smile.

Mac laughed. “Glad I could be an adequate substitute for Phryne.”

“I had no doubts,” Jack said, his expression entirely sincere. “I wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t trust you.”

Mac smiled, feeling surprisingly touched and suddenly reminded of why Jack Robinson was one of the few men she would be pleased to call a friend. She raised her glass and winked.

“Until our next case, Jack.”