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An Agreement
After twenty-five years in His Majesty’s service, more than fifty cases closed, and a relationship that survived more than its fair share of London debutantes intent on catching a heroic, handsome husband, Archie Curtis and Daniel da Silva at last agreed to retire to the peace and quiet of Melbourne.
“We’ve done quite enough for king and country, my dear Viking,” Daniel suggested, not for the first time. “The years may have been obscenely kind to you—the grey does makes you look distinguished—but we are getting a bit old for all this running around chasing nefarious threats to the government.”
Curtis still bristled slightly at the reminder of his greying temples, a fact of his age that da Silva found frustratingly charming, but he could hardly deny the truth of Daniel’s argument. They still solved the majority of their cases and managed to bring some of the most despicable criminals to justice, but neither of them was quite as spry as they had once been.
“Perhaps you’re right,” Archie conceded. “It would be rather nice to settle down together, I suppose, and Tobias did mention in his last letter how well he’s adjusting to civilian life with his new employer.”
“It’s settled, then,” Daniel announced grandly. “Where better for a couple of old queers to retire than a nation founded by criminals?”
1. An Impromptu Garden Party
They committed themselves to a quiet retirement in a safe, respectable neighborhood Tobias recommended.
Archie’s first mistake was, as usual, leaving the details to the poet.
“Don’t you think this is a bit—much for the two of us?” Archie dared ask, looking at the picture of their new home.
“Nonsense,” Daniel replied, barely even glancing up from the stacks of papers needing to be signed. “We’ll be expected to entertain and assist with the local charity functions, of course, which requires space, my dear. Besides, Tobias assures me it is very much like the other houses in that area.”
“There’s a tower,” Archie ventured to point out.
“Characteristic of Italianate architecture,” Daniel dismissed.
Archie’s second mistake, though one could hardly blame him for it, was failing to account for Miss Phryne Fisher.
Daniel and Archie had only just finished unpacking the last box of souvenirs from Sir Henry’s travels and were still debating on where the enormous taxidermied moose would be best displayed (“Least likely to frighten any potential guests,” Daniel sniffed) when someone fired a gun in their garden.
Archie had his pistol in hand before the sound of the shot faded away, and Daniel was already taking point. Old habits, it seemed, died hard.
However, it was all for naught. When they ventured outside, they found a criminal lying prone among their hyacinths, pinned to the ground beneath the heel of what looked to be a thoroughly modern woman. Archie pegged her as modern based on the dress that in his youth would barely have counted as a nightgown, but after three decades in the company of Miss Merton and the surprisingly trigger-happy Miss Carruth, a woman armed with a tiny gold pistol was hardly new.
“Oh, hello boys,” the thoroughly modern woman said. “I’m terribly sorry to impose on you, but this thief tried to escape through your charming garden.
“This is certainly not how one wishes to meet the new neighbors,” she continued while a young constable and another man in a suit, presumably his superior, appeared over the fence. “Although I’m sure Aunt Prudence will ask you round for tea, and that will undoubtedly be a more peaceful introduction.”
Archie was almost certain he heard the man in the suit mutter “I wouldn’t bet on it,” as he placed a pair of handcuffs on the apparent criminal and nonchalantly guided him through their home out to the street.
In a move that didn’t bode well for a quiet retirement of any sort, Daniel looked charmed with the young woman, whose name was apparently Miss Fisher.
“Oh, Phryne, please,” she urged. “I’ve always felt it silly to stand on formality after an armed pursuit.”
2. A New Suit
In London, Daniel had been something of a fashion plate. In Melbourne, however, one had to plan for any number of variables. Europe was half a world away, and fashion was at least a month behind even the least reputable shop on Savile Row.
Archie, bless him, was gamely happy with the suits Daniel had made for him last season, and women were as complimentary as always of how the cut of his jackets complimented the breadth of his shoulders. But with each steam ship that unloaded its first class passengers, Daniel became more uncharitable regarding the width of his own lapels and the hem of his cuffs.
After nearly six weeks of Daniel only leaving their bed to lounge on the sitting room sofa, Curtis took notice.
“Daniel, darling,” Archie began. “Do you plan to spend our retirement on this couch? You said you hated it.”
“I’m indisposed,” Daniel said peevishly.
“Well, yes,” Archie added, running his lambskin gloves up da Silva’s calves. “Though I’m fairly certain that bare thighs are quite inappropriate for a garden party, and you did promise Mrs. Petersen that you would go to her luncheon today.”
“I said I shan’t be going. I will live and die on this couch.”
“Well that’s certainly disappointing,” a voice said from the doorway. The two men looked up to find Dr. Mac leaning against the entryway. “I was quite looking forward to you running interference for me.”
“Dr. Mac,” Archie sighed. “How good to see you. Daniel would love to accompany you this afternoon, but unfortunately, his wardrobe won’t allow it.”
“Don’t be patronizing, Curtis,” Daniel huffed. “I simply can’t be seen in polite company in last season’s fashion. A poet must be seen to have standards, and the only person I’ve seen with decent trousers is the good doctor here.”
“I’ll pass on your compliments to my tailor,” Mac said drily. “I’m sure she’ll be thrilled by such enthusiastic praise of her labors. ”
Curtis looked between Dr. MacMillan’s suit and Daniel’s oriental dressing gown with a glint in his eye. A quarter century of living with Archie made it possible for Daniel to distinguish between his every day thoughtful expression and the one he was now giving Dr. Mac.
In that time, he had also learned to be wary of the inconveniently brilliant idea that would no doubt follow it.
Less than an hour later, Daniel found himself standing in front of a mirror as three middle-aged women in matching suits brusquely moved him into various poses and took his measurements.
“Are you certain they can accommodate me?” Daniel asked Mac as the women filed out of the fitting room. “I would imagine there are a few areas of note that might affect the fit of the suit if your Miss Ngyuen is accustomed to fitting women.”
“Well yes,” said the woman herself, returning to the room with an armful of ties, “but seeing as it’s much easier to tuck your cock into the pant leg than it is to structure a waistcoat around a pair of breasts, I believe we can make it work.”
Daniel was hardly expecting the owner and operator of a tailor’s shop specializing in women’s suits to be a blushing lady, but her bluntness quite caught him off guard. He found himself watching her as she sorted out potential color schemes for his various orders. After comparing two jewel-toned green ties, she decided that the emerald would suit Daniel’s darker complexion and set it aside for the charcoal morning suit.
Had he not been so interested in the no-nonsense way she made her selections, da Silva might have missed the easy way she and the doctor moved around each other. It actually rather reminded him of— Oh.
Within ten minutes, they had gone through the entire selection, and the pile of silks and cottons they deemed acceptable was satisfyingly large. Daniel was tucking his cravat back into his shirt when a quick flash of color caught his eye in the mirror. He looked up to see Iseul Ngyuen replace Mac’s dove grey tie with the peridot she had apparently saved for the doctor.
While it was certainly within the job description for a tailor to dress her customers, Ngyuen’s hands lingered on the cravat several seconds longer than most would consider appropriate. It rather reminded Daniel of Archie’s obsession with his own clothes, the care with which Curtis still insisted on dressing him in the morning (and undressing him in the evening).
“Thank you, Doctor,” Daniel interrupted, turning to face the women. “I believe you have successfully helped me locate my new tailor.”
“You might want to wait until you’ve at least tried on one of my suits,” Iseul said with a delicately raised eyebrow.
“No need,” Daniel replied airily. “It’s settled. After all, we shameless inverts must support each other’s endeavors.”
3. A Misunderstanding
Five months of living next door to Phryne provided little respite from their previous lives in England. Curtis was determined, however, that they should celebrate the holidays in their usual manner, sans interruptions.
Considering that the last time he had tried to cook Mrs. da Silva’s famous potato latkes had ended with a neighbor calling for the fire brigade and six weeks of repairs to Daniel’s flat, Archie decided it would be safer all around if he had a little help.
“I looked through several recipes,” Tobias said, once Archie was safely ensconced in his kitchen. “This one should be easy enough that Miss Fisher’s house might survive our practice attempts.”
“I was rather hoping to watch you make the first few batches,” Archie tried with his most winning smile. After all, Tobias was the expert.
But a butler’s duties, it seemed, were never done, and so the work of making latkes fell instead to Miss Dot.
“So you helped Tobias with the trial run,” Archie said, though the young maid jumped when it came out rather louder than he had intended. He was no expert with women, but every conversation with Dot seemed to result in her too terrified to even meet his eyes.
“Yes, sir,” Dot said, but she looked as though she wasn’t certain. Archie rolled up his shirtsleeves in preparation for the mess, but when he turned around to ask her if his latke was too large, he found Dot blushing at his hands. The years had dulled his bitterness regarding Jacobsdal and those responsible for his disfigurement, and that, coupled with the care with which Daniel had convinced him his wounds were not the hideous sources of pity they had once seemed, made him forget how his missing fingers could be upsetting to others. Though people usually stopped focusing on his wounds after a time, and Dot had seen him without his gloves on many occasions.
“I’m sorry, sir,” she breathed, “but I—I’m not sure…”
“I suppose it is a bit thick,” Archie suggested, but it didn’t seem much bigger than the one in the photo.
“Yes, sir,” Dot said, although Curtis wasn’t quite certain what she was agreeing with. “Mr. Butler said that the best way to roll them out is like this,” she continued. Archie tried to follow her instructions, now all too aware of how difficult it was for his right hand to fit around the glass, but Dot looked more disappointed with each attempt. She finally moved closer and placed her hands on his, putting the right amount of pressure on the potato cake.
The pair was so focused on their baking that they missed Constable Collins’s entrance. Archie looked up, however, at the rather high-pitched noise Hugh made on seeing Dot with her arms around Curtis. Dot almost knocked the bowl off the counter in her haste to step away from Archie. As he looked between the young constable and Dot, who refused to meet his eyes but couldn't quite stop glancing up at what Curtis now understood were his bare arms and not his missing fingers at all, Archie realized that there might be a misunderstanding.
“We were just making potato latkes,” she said quickly.
“With your arms around Mr. Curtis?” Hugh accused.
“Not much to worry about there, I think,” the detective said, meeting Archie’s gaze.
“But sir,” the younger man began, “Mr. Curtis and my Dottie were…”
“Constable, I really should speak with you in the hall,” the detective inspector said more forcefully as he seized Hugh’s arm and led him out of the kitchen.
“Perhaps it’s time that you and your young man joined us for dinner,” Archie concluded. Daniel would be much better at explaining the situation, which might even be worth the teasing Archie would no doubt endure for the next several days.
4. A Solo Adventure
It was easy to commit oneself to the quiet life while charging after murderers or taking cover from a hail of bullets. It was much more difficult, however, when faced with the everyday tedium of the finest drawing rooms in the commonwealth.
Miss Fisher had been kind enough to include Daniel and Archie in many of her adventures, but her latest case involved a rather intriguing murder in a locked greenhouse, and Daniel, unfortunately, was allergic to virtually everything within its suffocatingly humid walls.
So, while Curtis assisted Phryne with the questioning of every florist in the city, Daniel was left to his own devices.
Which, through the usual twists and turns, ended with him sneaking onto the assembly line at the new Ford plant in Geelong. He had, over the years, needed to slip back into his childhood customs and language in order to assist His Majesty’s men in one case or another, and his ability to hide in plain sight amongst the other immigrants on the line ought to have worked in his favor. He felt quite sure, though, that one really couldn’t be faulted for failing to connect a murderous florist to an unprincipled mechanic. After all, it took the illustrious Miss Fisher nearly two weeks to connect those dots.
They were difficult for Daniel to miss, however, when Cess nonchalantly took the pistons Daniel had just finished and placed them on the cart he was pushing.
“Miss Fisher didn’t say she would be bringing you in, sir,” Bert confessed, moving to Daniel’s other side and blocking them from the floor manager’s view. “We thought you were taking a bit of a break from all the excitement.”
“Yes,” Daniel murmured, “it seems as though we were both wrong.”
“Begging your pardon, sir,” Cess apologized, “but our instructions were to get into the storeroom. Miss Fisher said the music box should be back there.”
“And I suppose she believes a Mr. Martin left it there,” Daniel hazarded.
“That’d be him,” Bert confirmed.
“Well, it wouldn’t do to keep a lady waiting,” Daniel said carelessly. With a glance at the passing foreman, he knocked over the trolley right into the path of his superior.
“You!” shouted the foreman. “Every one of those is coming out of your pay!”
“S-sorry, sir,” Daniel stuttered, seamlessly pulling on the London gutter as he rushed to pick up each piece.
“You will be if you don’t get them to Martin and get back in position before the shift change,” the man groused.
Daniel flattered himself that had Bert and Cess been less familiar with him, they might have been fooled by the way he seemed to collapse in on himself and his face turned an uncomfortable shade of red. As it was, he noticed that Bert couldn’t help snickering as he put the last part on the cart, and Cess nearly gave them away with a snort as Daniel flinched while passing his still-fuming boss.
Once out of sight of the main floor, however, Daniel immediately straightened and abandoned the cart in a side hall before continuing to the storeroom where Mr. Martin waited.
It took an unexpected knife fight and two hostages, but eventually Bert and Cess went back to their employer with enough evidence to put away the florist and her mechanic friend, and Daniel returned to his garden parties and part-time investigative work, having had enough excitement to sustain him for quite some time.
At least until his neighbor caught a case he wasn’t allergic to.
5. A Minor Conspiracy
“This isn’t quite what I had in mind when you invited me,” Archie declared, taking a moment to reload his pistol before firing again at the intruders in Miss Fisher’s parlor.
“Yes?” Tobias inquired calmly as he provided cover. “Well, I suppose this is a bit out of the ordinary. It has been nearly six months since we had gunfire in the house.”
Glass shattered in the other room, making Archie flinch as what was sure to be an expensive vase or figurine smashed to the floor.
“I was rather referring to your letters persuading Daniel and me to uproot ourselves to Australia, old man,” Archie retorted. “I believe you extolled the virtues of the quiet life—” An alarmingly good shot forced both men to pause their conversation and alerted them to a fourth invader sneaking in through the kitchen and attempting to hem them in. Archie put a well-aimed bullet in the man’s knee, kicked his gun away, and returned to the matter at hand.
“In all of the charming descriptions of life in the commonwealth, you failed to mention how often it was interrupted by murderous lords and unprincipled seamstresses.”
“Boys,” Miss Fisher interrupted, ducking into the kitchen, “I do appreciate your concerns, but I would prefer not to lose another priceless ornament to these brutes.”
“I do apologize, madam,” Tobias responded before the trio split up to surround their assailants.
Twenty minutes, two hundred pounds of property damage, and an opportune visit from Detective Inspector Robinson later, the four intruders were taken away in handcuffs. Archie wanted to finish his conversation with Tobias, but the same sense of duty that compelled him to serve King and Country also bound him in service to Miss Phryne Fisher. Thus, he spent the next three hours clearing away the debris of what had once been her gramophone.
It seemed to Archie as though he was simply never going to be able to have a private conversation with Tobias. He did try to broach the topic of his moving to Melbourne twice more, but each time they were interrupted, first by the happy announcement that Dot and Hugh were expecting their first child and then by Ilya, a minor Russian noble, who needed Phryne’s assistance discovering who had stolen a priceless Faberge egg given to his grandmother by the last tsar.
His chance finally arrived when he once again asked for Tobias’s help preparing a surprise for Daniel. Their anniversary was quickly approaching, and Curtis wanted to make something special for his lover.
“Carefully,” Tobias began. “I still have the scar from that time you tried to make oatmeal. We don’t want to ruin your special night with an emergency visit from Dr. Mac.”
“I hardly think it was all that bad,” Archie said, but he flushed at the memory.
They continued in silence after that, measuring flour, cutting in butter, and putting in the right amount of sugar. Once the cake was in the oven, however, Archie found his opportunity.
“Tobias,” he began as he turned toward the sink and the frightening number of dishes needing his attention. “I’ve been wondering about something. Daniel and I decided to take our retirement here in Melbourne partly because of your letters,” Curtis explained. “You told me how you enjoyed the quiet life here, only having to worry about which scones to serve for tea.”
“Miss Fisher is rather particular about her scones, I’m sure you’ve noticed,” Tobias agreed as he pulled out a cloth to wipe down the counters.
“Yes, well,” Archie continued. “But there’s rather a lot more…violence than you led me to believe.”
“I thought you and Mr. da Silva were accustomed to more excitement than the average person,” Tobias suggested smoothly as he joined Curtis at the sink, towel at the ready to dry.
“One does tend to expect retirement to come with marginally fewer deaths than one’s work, though” Archie said, passing him a dish. “Whatever made you think it would quiet down once we moved here?”
“Oh, I didn’t,” Tobias responded airily. “But Daniel knew you would only agree to the plan if you thought he might settle down as well.”
+1 A Young Detective in the Making
Melbourne society had waited with bated breath as the anniversary of Daniel and Archie’s arrival in the city approached. Da Silva’s parties were quickly becoming legendary, and he was sure to mark this date with a magnificent fete.
The true celebration, however, came two weeks later and was observed in quite the opposite manner. The only people gathered around their grand dining table were those they considered their closest friends, and the most admired addition to the party was a pineapple upside down cake Archie brought out with a shy but proud glance toward Daniel.
“If you will excuse me,” Daniel said, pushing his chair from the table. “I have a surprise of my own for Curtis here.” As Daniel left the dining room, however, he was distracted by a pair of legs dangling from the second floor landing.
“I know that times are changing rather quickly, my dear Miss Jane,” Daniel said as he took his place next her, “but I’m certain Aunt P. would have something to say about a young lady baring her ankles with a countess in the next room. I thought Phryne said you were tired after your long journey home.”
“I was practicing. Miss Fisher says that I need to polish my detective skills if she’s going to let me work with her once I graduate,” Jane said scooting over to give him room to sit.
“And what have you learned this evening?” Daniel inquired.
“Well, nothing yet. They’ve just talked about boring things, like their dresses or the flowers.”
Daniel smiled. “It might seem like that’s all they’re sharing, but one must learn to listen to what they don’t say as much as to what they do.” He pointed toward a young blonde woman sitting next to Archie. “For example, Lady Morningside has yet to say two words to Mr. Grey. That, coupled with the knowledge that they were seen driving together only last week, would indicate that they’re trying to throw her mother off the trail of their secret engagement.”
“How did you guess that?” Jane exclaimed.
“Well, it also helps that I just happened to observe her showing off the engagement ring while her mother indulged in an afternoon nap,” Daniel admitted.
The were interrupted ten minutes later when Archie found the pair of them in the hall, Young Jane attempting to lift the tumbler of a locked door with Daniel’s favorite lock picks, the ones Archie had given him for his last birthday.
“I do hate to intrude, Daniel,” Archie began, “but the guests were promised a surprise, and I doubt they would be impressed with this one.”
Daniel stood, brushing the lint from his knees. “I expect you to work at it until you can open this door in fewer than two minutes. We'll see what you've learned with a practical demonstration tomorrow.”
With that, he led Archie to the icebox, from which he withdrew a Lambrusco, chilled to the perfect temperature.
“Your surprise is more alcohol?” Archie asked. “We’ll have to call a cab for at least three of our guests as it is.”
“Philistine,” Daniel admonished gently, taking Curtis’s arm before leading him back to the table.
Epilogue: An Anniversary Present
“I have one more surprise for you, my dear Viking,” Daniel said later that night as Archie put on his dressing gown. “I know we said that we wouldn’t exchange gifts this year, but one’s silver anniversary is rather an important occasion.”
Before Curtis could begin to argue, Daniel removed a wrapped box from his nightstand.
Archie spared him a scowl but opened his present without any further fuss. Daniel found himself tapping his fingers against his thigh, a tell he never quite managed to hide around Curtis, as Archie removed the lid, revealing a photo of Miss Fisher’s entire household in an antique silver frame.
Daniel couldn’t help remembering the night captured in the picture. It had been taken at their Hanukkah celebration the year before. There were Dot and Hugh in the background decorating the Christmas tree with popcorn they had all strung earlier that afternoon. And Daniel himself was frozen playing the dreidel game with Phryne and Jack, the young woman laughing as the detective lost yet another turn.
But what had inspired Daniel to choose this photo was that Mr. Butler, the photographer, had managed to capture Archie and Daniel exchanging a soft look over the heads of their friends, silently enjoying their new-found family.
“It’s perfect,” Archie said simply.