The Children of Silence (20 page)

The pressmen rose as a body and scrambled for the door.

Frances turned to Mr Luckhurst. ‘On your honour, sir, that was true?’

‘As I live and breathe,’ he assured her. ‘Whatever the outcome to myself, even if I am his sole heir, which I most strongly doubt, I could not sit by and see Antrobus declared dead on a mistake.’

Frances looked at her notes again. Harriett Antrobus had told her that her husband had had a tooth out while on a business trip but she had not been able to state where or when this had taken place or even what tooth it had been. The suggestion that it was a wisdom tooth had come solely from Mr Wylie. ‘Perhaps it was not a mistake.’ She looked quickly about her and saw Mr Wylie in conversation with Mr Rawsthorne.

‘Some red faces, I fear,’ said Luckhurst, rising to his feet. ‘But business calls me. I will write to you very soon and look forward to making your better acquaintance.’

Frances wished him farewell and sought out Mr Wylie, whose embarrassment as he saw her approach was manifest.

‘Miss Doughty,’ greeted Rawsthorne, ‘at the very centre of things as usual! I am told that you are acting for Mrs Antrobus.’

‘I am, and I had imagined that all would be completed today, but it seems not.’

‘Mr Wylie has just told me that he is very sorry for his mistake. It appears that his memory did not serve him well.’

Frances turned to Wylie, who was trying to avoid her gaze. ‘And yet, I recall that you volunteered the information about the lost tooth before Mrs Antrobus had written her statement and before the remains were examined. Now how can that be?’

Wylie gave a helpless shrug and a nervous laugh. ‘I can only apologise.’

‘I do not want an apology,’ Frances told him, ‘I want an explanation. When you came to inform me that the remains had been found you said that when you saw Mrs Antrobus she was too overcome to speak, but I am now wondering whether that was entirely true. Perhaps you did speak to her briefly and she told you as much as she could recall about the tooth extraction: the information she later included in her statement. But it was little enough and so you thought you would help her with a made up story to corroborate what she had said. I assume you paid careful attention to Dr Bond’s statement just now?’

He squirmed like a man in pain. ‘I – do not have the stomach for such details, but – yes.’

‘And you added a further refinement to your evidence to match what he had found. Is that not the case?’

‘Mr Wylie,’ warned Rawsthorne sternly, ‘I would advise you to say nothing. Miss Doughty has just alleged that you perjured yourself to a coroner’s jury, which is an extremely serious matter.’

Wylie gave a little gasp and wiped his face with a handkerchief. It was warm and oppressive in the court but he was perspiring even more than could be attributable to the climate. ‘I must abide by the advice of Mr Rawsthorne,’ he muttered weakly.

Frances favoured him with an unforgiving stare. ‘Of course you must.’

She left Mr Wylie to his uncomfortable thoughts and went to speak to Lionel Antrobus, but as she did so she saw a young woman, who had been sitting at the back of the court with a half veiled bonnet, make for the exit. There was something a little familiar about the dress and the neat quick movement, and Frances hurried after her for a closer look, quickly realising that she was Dr Goodwin’s maidservant.

Was this simple curiosity, wondered Frances, or had the maid been sent by Dr Goodwin to observe the proceedings on his behalf, and if the latter, why, after his interest in Mrs Antrobus’ case had ended several years ago, was he still concerned?

Lionel Antrobus and Mr Marsden were in close conversation when Frances approached them boldly. ‘Sirs, I am sorry to interrupt, but I hope I might have a word.’

Marsden offered a sly smile. ‘What brings you here, Miss Doughty? Looking for stories for your sensational tales?’

‘I am sure I don’t know what you mean,’ replied Frances with a dignified air.

‘Neither do I,’ said Antrobus.

‘Oh this young lady is a prolific writer of halfpenny tales, all about a silly girl detective called Miss Dauntless,’ taunted the solicitor. ‘Half of Bayswater thinks the stories are true!’

‘I am not the author of the stories and I don’t know who is,’ Frances retorted sharply.

‘She writes under the name W. Grove, but I know better,’ insinuated Marsden with a sneer.

‘You know nothing, sir. But my business is not with you. I was about to ask Mr Antrobus if he knows where his brother was employed when in America.’

Marsden wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘I don’t know about you, Mr Antrobus, but I find the word “business” on the lips of a female particularly unpleasant.’

‘And yet I see that there is a point to the question,’ observed Antrobus, thoughtfully. ‘I will look into it,’ he promised.

As Frances thanked him, she saw that Inspector Sharrock, who had been talking to the coroner, was just about to depart and quickly bid them ‘Good-day’ and hurried after him. Behind her she could hear Marsden give a laugh of derision.

‘Inspector, if I might have a word with you!’ Frances called.

Sharrock rolled his eyes, but he paused. ‘I’m a busy man, but I know better than to put you off, as it will only make twice the nuisance later on. One word, that is all I have time for!’ They left the hall and walked on down Church Street together, Frances’ long legs and youth enabling her to easily match the Inspector’s impatient stride.

‘I have been hoping to speak to you about the enquiries that were originally made into the disappearance of Mr Antrobus in 1877. I know that it was thought that he had vanished while in Bristol, but I can’t believe that you would not have made some enquiries too.’

‘We were in consultation with the Bristol police and gave them such information as we had, yes. And they won’t be at all happy when they hear about this. They’ve been asking round all the dentists in Bristol to see if any of them remembers a Mr Antrobus and his wisdom tooth. I’ve a mind to arrest that Wylie for wasting police time!’

‘Did you ever consider at the time that Mr Antrobus might have returned to London or decided to leave his family?’

‘The police are not stupid, Miss Doughty,’ he said irritably, ‘we know the sort of things people get up to.’

‘I am sorry, I didn’t mean to imply any failing on your part, but I know you and your men are very hard-pressed and there was no actual evidence in this case that a crime had actually taken place.’

‘That is true, and there still isn’t. You know about the wife, of course. Men have walked off for less than that.’

‘But there are the sons.’

‘Yes, and he was a good father by all accounts, but they haven’t had so much as a letter from him. One of the Kent police went to the school and had some words with them. They are two very unhappy boys, missing their father, there’s no dissembling there. There’s an aunt too, respectable type. The constable paid her a visit, and if she’s hiding Mr Antrobus there was no sign of it.’

He darted away, and Frances let him go.

Frances returned to her empty rooms to reflect on what she had learned. As Harriett Antrobus herself had said, many men suffered falls and where was the man who had not lost a tooth? The only thing that connected the second skeleton to Edwin Antrobus was the bag and its contents, and a thief could have abandoned it at any time. The one thing of which she was sure was that Mr Wylie, from his anxiety to have matters resolved, had lied to the court.

F
rances’ reflections were enlivened when Sarah bustled back, full of news. She had interviewed the Antrobus’ former parlourmaid, Lizzie, who had said she knew of no reason for her master not to return home from Bristol, there having been nothing unusual in his manner or state of health before he disappeared. Edwin Antrobus, she declared, had been neither better nor worse than any master she had worked for previously or since, and his conduct had been perfectly proper at all times. Mrs Antrobus’ affliction, which had required her to creep about the house like a mouse, she had thought very strange, but it was not for her to question the arrangements. Mr Antrobus was very sad about the unfortunate position but bore up well. As far as she was aware there had been no disagreements between husband and wife, although had there been any they would have been conducted almost in whispers.

Few visitors had come to the house. Mr Luckhurst was sometimes there. Mr Lionel Antrobus and his family called, Miss Pearce came once a week to see her sister and there were any number of medical men. The only person with whom she had ever seen Edwin Antrobus have an altercation was a poor man who had repeatedly come to the house and was very persistent in his appeals for money. He didn’t look like someone who had been living on the street, only someone very ill-clad who had not attended to his toilet as often as he should. On the first occasion he had actually dared to come to the front door and asked to see the lady of the house. Lizzie had directed him to the servant’s entrance, but he had refused to go, saying he had as much right as anyone to come in through the front door. The maid, naturally not wanting to let him in, had shut the door, leaving him standing on the doorstep while she fetched Mr Antrobus.

Her master, when told of the visitor, had been very relieved that the man had not been allowed into the house. He had hurried to the door and found the man still waiting outside. There had been a sharp exchange of words ending with Mr Antrobus angrily ordering the man away and telling him never to return. Later he told the maid that the caller was a thief and a beggar, and she had done right not to admit him.

‘Could she describe him?’ asked Frances, thinking that this was another person who might have set upon Edwin Antrobus in the street.

‘Between thirty and forty. Hungry looking, with long dirty whiskers. After that he came to the back door a number of times, but he was always turned away. The charwoman also told the maid that she’d seen a poor man peering through the back windows and trying to get into the house through the servants’ entrance, but it was obvious that he was up to no good and she shooed him away. Once she even saw him trying to squeeze through a bedroom window that was part open to air the room and saw him off with a broomstick. Might have been the same man as came to the front door, but as far as they knew he never actually entered the house. They didn’t see him again after that.’

‘How long ago was this?’

‘It was a few years before Mr Antrobus went missing. She couldn’t be exact.’

‘I suspect he wasn’t a beggar at all but Mrs Antrobus’ cousin, the burglar who seems to spend so much of his life in prison. If he didn’t return it was probably because he was in custody again.’

The maid had also confirmed that Mrs Antrobus almost never went out, except very occasionally when she and Miss Pearce hired a closed cab and went to visit their father’s grave at All Souls’ in Kensal Green, or sometimes on very quiet mornings they liked to walk in Hyde Park. On those occasions Mrs Antrobus was so muffled against any sound, it was an extraordinary sight to behold.

Lizzie remembered very well Mrs Antrobus’ distress and confusion when her husband did not return from his business trip, and Miss Pearce had been sent for to comfort her. There had been a number of callers to discuss the dreadful situation: Mr Luckhurst, Mr Lionel Antrobus, some policemen and one or two other men who she thought were lawyers or detectives.

The servants had stayed on for a month after Mr Antrobus disappeared but left when the lady of the house confessed that she was no longer able to pay their wages.

There remained one more servant to trace, the charlady, a Mrs Fisher, who had been quite elderly. Lizzie thought that she had probably given up heavy work and gone to live with her married daughter, whose name she didn’t know.

‘I’ll find her, though,’ said Sarah.

Next day Frances received a visit from Tom’s most trusted ‘man’ who, in default of knowing his real name, was usually called Ratty. He had been living on the street making a living by his wits when Tom offered him the only home and regular employment he had ever known. Ratty had proved himself to be fast on his feet and highly observant, able to follow and spy upon anyone without their noticing he was there and with an excellent memory for faces. His recent work for Frances had led to a sudden ambition to become a detective.