**Chapter 1: A Sore Throat and a Stolen Necklace**

Phryne Fisher strode down the sidewalk, her heels clicking on the pavement as she gazed intently at the shopfront before her. The sign above the door read "Tiffany's Jewellers," and Phryne's eyes narrowed as she studied the security measures in place. She was here to investigate the theft of a valuable diamond necklace, said to have been stolen during a brief window of time the previous night. As she pushed open the door, a bell above it rang out, and Phryne was enveloped in the warm, luxurious atmosphere of the jeweller's shop. The owner, Mr. Jenkins, greeted her with a look of relief. "Ah, Miss Fisher! I'm so glad you're here. I don't know what to do. The necklace was here just yesterday evening, and now it's gone!" Phryne smiled reassuringly and began to survey the scene. Her assistant, Dot, trailed behind her, discreetly observing the surroundings. As Phryne questioned Mr. Jenkins, she couldn't shake the feeling of a tickle in the back of her throat. She dismissed it as a minor irritation, but Dot noticed her mistress's slight cough and exchanged a worried glance with her. "Miss Fisher, perhaps you should take a moment to...ah...collect yourself?" Dot suggested, trying to sound nonchalant. Phryne waved her hand dismissively. "I'm fine, Dot. Let's focus on the case." The interview with Mr. Jenkins continued, but Phryne's throat grew increasingly sore. She tried to ignore it, but her voice began to croak slightly as she asked her questions. Dot's concern grew, and she discreetly slipped a packet of throat lozenges into her handbag, just in case. Meanwhile, Detective Inspector Jack Robinson arrived on the scene, his rugged features set in a stern expression. He eyed Phryne's determined face and raised an eyebrow. "Ah, Phryne, I see you're already hard at work. I trust you're not planning on doing anything...rash?" Phryne flashed him a bright smile. "Of course not, Jack. I'm just gathering evidence." As they began to survey the scene together, Phryne's physical exertion began to take its toll. The cold air, combined with her growing fatigue, left her feeling lightheaded. Jack noticed her swaying slightly and frowned. "Phryne, I think you've done enough for now. Why don't you take a break and sit down?" Phryne protested, but Jack's firm tone brooked no argument. He guided her to a nearby chair, and Dot hastened to her side, producing a glass of water and a lozenge. As Phryne reluctantly accepted the lozenge, Jack stood over her, his arms crossed. "You're not going anywhere until you've rested, Phryne. This case will still be here when you're feeling better." Phryne's eyes flashed with frustration, but her body seemed to have other plans. A wave of fatigue washed over her, and she slumped back in the chair, her eyes drifting closed. For a moment, she simply sat, letting the stillness wash over her. Then, she opened her eyes to find Jack and Dot watching her with concern. "I'm fine," she insisted, but her voice was barely above a whisper. Jack's expression remained skeptical. "We'll see about that," he said, his eyes twinkling. "Dot, why don't you take Phryne home and get her into bed? I'll start canvassing the area and gathering more evidence. We'll reconvene when you're feeling better." Phryne's protests were overruled, and Dot helped her to her feet. As they walked out of the shop, Phryne couldn't help but wonder if she was really as fine as she claimed. The cold, it seemed, was beginning to get the better of her.