After less than a year in the force Mayberry, a slender youth of about eighteen, with no pretensions to brains or imagination, was becoming a competent young officer under the steely eye of Inspector Sharrock. The main qualities Sharrock looked for in a constable were sobriety, obedience and energy, all of which Mayberry was able to demonstrate, and as a result, whenever Sharrock wanted a constable to accompany him to the scene of a crime, Mayberry was his first choice. The constable had witnessed both the lady detectives’ methods of exposing the misdeeds of criminals and consequently was always respectful to Frances and terrified of Sarah. ‘It was all very strange here last night,’ Mayberry revealed, ‘what with Dr Goodwin being brought in and then a minute afterwards his son arrived, and him being deaf as a post and not able to speak, and very upset, we had a fine time. But he was brought pen and paper, and next thing he had written out a confession to the murder. Said he did it because Mr Eckley was trying to ruin his father.’
Frances tried unsuccessfully to reconcile the anxious boy with a knife-wielding murderer. ‘Has he been charged?’
‘No, because when the Inspector asked him some questions it turned out he didn’t know the first thing about it. Then the maidservant came in and she said he was at home all the time, but the doctor was out. I think he just said it to save his father.’
‘I am glad to hear that. It was a terribly misguided thing to do. I hope the Inspector wasn’t too hard on Mr Goodwin.’
‘No, well, he saw it was family feeling and let him off. Gave him a stiff talking-to first, mind. Not that the son could hear it but I think the Inspector made himself very clear.’
‘Where is Mr Goodwin now?’
‘The Inspector sent him home with the maid.’
Frances, hopeful that this strand of the enquiry would be dropped without her intervention, decided to await developments and returned to her apartment. There she found Mr Gillan waiting for her, anticipating a sensational story for the Chronicle.
‘The whole of Bayswater is awash with rumour!’ chortled Gillan excitedly. ‘Some say Dr Goodwin has been murdering all his patients for the last twenty years, some say he has been seducing every female he sees. What do you say, Miss Doughty?’ He poised a pencil over a page in his notebook.
‘I say that people should watch their tongues,’ replied Frances.
‘The word on the street and in the shops and parlours is that Mr Isaac Goodwin is the natural son of the doctor by one of his own patients. Do you know anything about that?’
‘My understanding is that his son is adopted and not a blood relation. It is no business of mine to enquire further. Besides, all the allegations in the world cannot prove the point. You had best take care or your editor will find himself in court again.’
‘Ah, well, I have been told that the lady concerned is deceased and cannot be hurt by it now. But it seems that she was hard of hearing and attended a hospital where she saw Dr Goodwin.’
‘May a doctor not see a patient without being slandered?’
He smiled knowingly. ‘All I can say is that someone knows something, and it is getting about.’
Frances firmly refused to be drawn into saying anything about the matter, but her earlier suspicions that the Chronicle had not been the only recipient of Mr Dromgoole’s furious outpourings were confirmed. She decided that she ought to speak to Mrs Antrobus if only to warn her about the rumours. Harriett’s main sources of information were the newspapers, correspondence, her sister and Mr Wylie, but she might well have been protected from unpleasant stories about her mother being passed around over rattling teacups.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Frances called at Craven Hill, Harriett Antrobus and her sister looked composed and untroubled. Charlotte went to fetch some refreshments, and Frances opened the discussion with the usual polite enquiries after Mrs Antrobus’ wellbeing.
Harriett smiled. ‘I live my life as I must, of course. I have not been disturbed by the police again, which is both a good and a bad thing. I had hoped to be brought more news but it seems there is none to be had. Have you learned anything?’
‘I regret that I have nothing new as regards the identity of the remains found in Queens Road. I will attend the adjourned inquest and can only hope that Dr Bond can throw new light on the unfortunate business. You do know, I suppose, that Mr Wylie overstepped what was wise in his evidence?’
Mrs Antrobus gave a soft little laugh. ‘Oh, the silly man! He confessed all to me and was quite ashamed of himself, as he should have been. But he is kind and well meaning, and thought he was acting for the best. I have been very firm with him and said he must do nothing of the sort again. To be found out in such inadvisable behaviour could only harm our prospects. I do, however, have one happy piece of news. You know of course that your uncle, Mr Martin, was good enough to conduct my sister home when she was so distressed after my brother-in-law’s recent threats. We persuaded him to stay for tea and found him a very gentlemanly and sympathetic visitor. He has expressed an interest in renting part of the house – at least,’ she smiled, ‘he says it is the house he is interested in – and has called again several times since. Charlotte has shown him the accommodation and she told me he is very pleased indeed with what he has seen.’
The implication in her tone was very clear, and Frances hardly knew what to say.
‘But I may be running ahead of myself,’ admitted Harriett. ‘My sister has known very little happiness, and her selfless devotion to our dear late mother and to me have been the enemy of her chances in life, although no word of complaint has ever passed her lips.’
Frances, though surprised, found herself content with the thought of Cornelius and Charlotte making a match. Late marriages, when the tastes and character of both parties were settled, and neither had any illusions about the realities of domesticity, could be very happy.
‘I wish them both well,’ she said warmly. ‘But to turn to other matters: have you heard anything more from Mr Marsden?’
‘I am thankful that I have not. Mr Rawsthorne has called and says he is keeping him at bay while the inquest is undecided. After that – I do not know.’
Charlotte brought tea and served it out with some thin slices of sponge cake, which, Harriett made a great point of mentioning, her sister had made with her very own hands. Charlotte joined them and smiled a little bashfully at Frances.
‘I do not enjoy being the bearer of some distressing news,’ continued Frances, uncomfortably, putting down her little wooden tea bowl, ‘but I am afraid it is necessary, and as a consequence I do need to ask you some questions.’
‘Oh, poor Harriett,’ murmured Charlotte, and she leaned across and patted her sister’s hand, comfortingly.
Mrs Antrobus tried to remain calm and resolute, but even so, she trembled slightly. ‘Do not spare me, Miss Doughty. I must know all, however unfortunate.’
‘Have you been told that Dr Goodwin is being questioned by the police about a murder?’
There was a sharp intake of breath. ‘A murder? I can hardly believe it! Surely not! Oh, but you must mean as a witness; he cannot be a suspect!’
‘I am afraid he is currently suspected. I am not engaged to act for him and can only hope that he is released soon.’
‘There must be a mistake,’ protested Charlotte.
Mrs Antrobus nodded emphatically. ‘I agree. A man such as Dr Goodwin would not, could not do such a thing! But who is dead?’
Frances was unsure whether either sister knew the victim and watched them both carefully as she spoke. ‘The murdered man is Mr Eckley, the headmaster of the Bayswater School for the Deaf.’ Mrs Antrobus expressed only great surprise, but Charlotte was momentarily appalled and recovered her composure with an effort. ‘I agree that Dr Goodwin cannot be responsible,’ continued Frances. ‘You will have read in the newspapers that he has a legal dispute with Mr Eckley. Unfortunately the law alone was not enough for Mr Eckley who attempted an assault on the character of Dr Goodwin, one that threatened his reputation and professional standing. I believe this is the main reason for the police’s suspicion. I know nothing against Dr Goodwin, and I am sure that the attack was ill founded. But the result was that a great many rumours which arose as a result of the quarrel with Mr Dromgoole have been re-awakened, and I fear that they may touch upon your family.’