By Sue Turnbull
November 11, 2025 — 5.30am
Credit:
CRIME
Murder in the Cathedral
Kerry Greenwood
Allen & Unwin, $32.99
The first 50 pages of Murder in the Cathedral, Kerry Greenwood’s 23rd Miss Fisher adventure, made me laugh out loud. The last one made me cry, not because anything awful happens, but, as Kerry herself might have said, “it’s just perfect”, and a fitting conclusion to this always entertaining historical crime series.
Sadly, Kerry died in March this year and there will be no new Phryne adventures to enjoy in the bath with a glass of champagne. Which is how Kerry herself once informed a rapt audience she imagined her books might be read.
In reflecting on Miss Fisher’s career, it’s evident that while her creator became more confident, relaxed and witty over the years, there was also a determination to tackle serious issues from a feminist perspective. Cocaine Blues, the first in the series published in 1989, shone a light on backstreet abortions in the Melbourne of 1928. Meanwhile, in the pursuit of her own amorous trysts, Phryne readily availed herself of a Marie Stopes’ contraceptive device.
All the adventures in this series have been set in the same time frame with a different scenic backdrop that motivates the plot, and Murder in the Cathedral is no exception. On this occasion, we’re off to the city of Bendigo where Phryne’s wartime friend Lionel is about to be enthroned as bishop. “This is a lark,” the ebullient Lionel cheerily informs Phryne in his letter of invitation.
However, “a lark” is not quite what it promises to be as Phryne and her maid Dot travel by train across the boring “flat basalt plains” to the north-west of Melbourne. Arriving in the splendid gold town, they are transported to The Shamrock Hotel in Lionel’s Bentley with Phryne dangerously perched on the running board as her luggage takes up most of the room. This is hardly surprising, since Phryne travels with an outfit for every eventuality.
The late Kerry Greenwood in her garden.Credit: David Greagg
But first, there’s lunch. Suspicious of the wine list Phryne orders a jug of beer accompanied by roast beef and vegetables, a dessert of baked apple and raisin pie “liberally drenched in fresh cream”, followed by a rather fine tawny port. Inevitably, there’s a nap before Phryne dresses for dinner. This time it’s lamb with “exemplary” green beans in butter, strawberry tart and a “rather decent dessert wine”. As always, there’s an Enid Blyton-ish relishing of every sumptuous repast.
Another ongoing delight is the fashion notes. As well as her usual Erté and Patou, here Phryne dons a new emerald green gown with a diamante border by Callot Soeurs. (Having googled this French fashion house, I spent a happy hour exploring the history of the three sisters who ran it and their fabulous frocks.)
Another diversion involved a YouTube version of the 9th-century hymn Veni Creator Spiritus, which in the book is sung by an extraordinarily beautiful young man during Lionel’s inauguration – right before one of the attendant deacons collapses in a pool of blood, stabbed through the heart.
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At which point the game is definitely afoot and Phryne is on the job, assisted by the capable Constable Watson whose career has hitherto been stymied because the Bendigo force is under a “masonic jurisdiction”. Inevitably Phryne remedies this situation while sorting out everyone else’s troubles in her most kindly way. As Phryne astutely observes, although she doesn’t always start things, “she certainly finished them”.
While there are multiple suspects with a diverse array of possible motives for offing the “fusspot” deacon, it’s a given that Phryne will assist (ahem) the police in locating the suspect. But not before many entertaining characters are interviewed and much energetic sleuthing is undertaken. And for old time’s sake (see the second in the series Flying High), there’s also a breathless chase in a Gypsy Moth piloted by Phryne with the anxious Watson up back.
Joyous, witty and undeniably fun, Murder in the Cathedral may indeed be just what you need after a long week. So run the bath, crack open the champagne and raise a toast to Miss Fisher for the last time. Her creator would most certainly approve.
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