‘This was just before he went away that last time?’
‘The day before, I think.’
‘So by rights it should still be there.’ Unless, Frances thought, Mrs Antrobus had sold it and was unwilling to admit as much in case her brother-in-law discovered what she had done. It would take some delicacy on her part to tease out that piece of information, since Mrs Antrobus was undoubtedly afraid that her transgression would be met with an unkind response. It was, however, something the police ought to be told, and Frances wondered how she might best present the information to avoid unpleasant repercussions.
‘Did you look in the trinket box after he left for Bristol?’ she asked. It was just possible that Edwin Antrobus, not wishing to be parted from the cherished heirloom, had changed his mind and taken it with him just before he departed.
Lizzie dabbed crumbs from her lips and studied the menu card. ‘Oh yes. I gave the ring a bit of a polish, which it needed. It came up lovely.’
Frances decided to pay a call on Mrs Antrobus to see if by any chance there was some error in the matter of the ring. She was met at the door by Charlotte, who was undeniably pleased to see her.
‘Miss Doughty, we – that is, I – or perhaps it should be we – were thinking of making a call on you very soon.’
‘Oh? Has there been some good news?’ asked Frances as she removed her shoes.
‘Well,’ said Charlotte with a smile, ‘not about Edwin I am sorry to say, but do come into the parlour and we will talk. Harriett is having her nap now, so I will not disturb her.’
‘Before I do that, I hope you don’t mind but I need to look at something.’
‘Oh?’
‘Could you conduct me to Mr Antrobus’ dressing room and allow me to examine the trinket box there?’
Charlotte was surprised by this request but not discomfited, and she at once took Frances up to the little room. There, all the clothes and other items of gentleman’s apparel were carefully stored against the owner’s return, his hairbrushes, combs, soap and toilet water laid ready for his use.
‘It looks as though he has just stepped out and will return at any moment.’
Charlotte gave a sad smile. ‘That is how Harriett has always insisted it be kept. She never loses hope.’
There was only one small trinket box, and Frances opened it. It was empty. ‘Might I ask who comes in here?’
‘Only myself. I dust and clean, and keep it fresh.’
‘Not the servant?’
‘No, she does the heavy work of the house.’
Frances showed Charlotte the open box. ‘I was expecting to find some studs and pins in here. Is that not where your brother-in-law kept them?’
Charlotte stared into the box, puzzled. ‘I imagine he must have done, but let us look in case they are somewhere else.’
A quick search through some drawers revealed nothing more. ‘Would your sister have sold any of these things?’ asked Frances. ‘The reason for my question is that I have just learned that Mr Antrobus removed his signet ring before he went to Bristol. It was last seen by the maid, Lizzie, in this box.’
Charlotte was astonished at this news. ‘Oh no, she would never have dreamed of it. They were not hers to sell, but in any case, even if Edwin never returned she wanted his personal jewellery to go to her sons. I will ask her about it when she wakes.’
Frances did briefly wonder if Lizzie might have taken the items before she was dismissed but reflected that had the maid stolen the ring then she would not have revealed that it had left the owner’s finger.
They were in the upper hallway when Frances said, ‘You were here in this house when Mr Charles Henderson died, were you not?’
Charlotte paused. ‘Yes, how did you know about that?’
‘From my study of the newspapers. I was told that Mr Antrobus was greatly affected by the incident.’
‘He was, as were we all.’
‘Tell me about that night.’
‘I don’t understand. How can it be important?’
‘Mr Luckhurst told me that even years later it weighed on Mr Antrobus’ mind. Maybe what happened to him is connected in some way.’
Charlotte looked far away, seeing and not wanting to see. ‘It was a terrible time. And it all began so pleasantly, never a suggestion of the tragedy to come. We had dined and then retired to the drawing room. Mr Henderson said he would show us his collection of snuffboxes and went to get the key, but he was gone a long time.’
‘And all the company was in the drawing room when you heard the shot?’
‘Not all. Aunt Lily had been exclaiming on how long it was taking him to find the key and said she knew where it was to be found; it was in a cupboard in the hallway, and so she went to fetch it. And mother was feeling very tired so Harriett took her into the parlour. There was a chaise longue where Mr Henderson liked to recline when his head ached and Harriett settled mother there and sat by her and bathed her temples with eau-de-cologne. I was in the drawing room with Edwin and the other two aunts and father.’
‘So at the time you heard the shot the only person who was not in the company of anyone else was Aunt Lily?’
‘Yes, but only because she was looking for the key.’
‘Can you show me the study?’
‘Of course. It is never locked nowadays.’
The study was smaller than Frances had expected, and she thought that had the house been occupied by a family then it might have served as a nursery. It was furnished with a desk and chair, and there were bookcases, some of which were secured with glass doors. A few volumes stood on the open shelves, but there was no sign of any snuffboxes or pistols.
‘Lionel has taken all the items that might be of value to a collector and placed them in the bank,’ explained Charlotte. ‘He claimed it was to keep them safe, but we think it was to prevent us from selling them.’
‘You did not witness the scene of death, I take it?’
‘No, when we heard the shot Edwin told us to stay where we were and rushed out. Then when he came back – I shall never forget the terrible expression on his face – he said his uncle was dead, and he was sending for a doctor but there was nothing to be done. He told us all not to go upstairs. Then he went to fetch Aunt Lily and Harriett and mother and told them to join us. Aunt Lily had been in the hallway when she heard the shot, so she was nearer than anyone else and was in hysterics. She had been particularly fond of her nephew, and the shock turned her mind – she died not long afterwards.’
‘Do you think Mr Henderson’s death was an accident?’
‘I cannot permit myself to think it was anything else.’
As they returned downstairs the servant creaked up to meet them.
‘Mr Martin has come, I’ve shown him into the front parlour.’
Charlotte’s serious face broke into a happy smile. ‘Come, we will have tea.’
As Frances entered the parlour she saw the table already laid and her uncle Cornelius rose to greet her. Not only was he attired in the first new suit he had purchased in many a year but his hair was several shades darker than at their last meeting.
‘My dear!’ he exclaimed, beaming with delight, ‘it is always a pleasure to see you but most especially so today of all days! Please join us and allow me to share our good news.’
Frances took a seat, and Charlotte managed the teacups and plates.
‘You know of course that I have been a lonely man for many years, and after poor Phoebe passed away I never imagined that I would find contentment, let alone happiness, again. But how wrong I was! Miss Pearce – Charlotte I may call her now – has consented to be my wife.’
Frances had anticipated this development but perhaps not quite so soon. She reflected, however, as she offered her sincere congratulations, that neither her uncle nor his intended bride were of an age where waiting was normally advised. ‘And it is our pleasure to invite you to a small gathering to celebrate our betrothal next Sunday afternoon.’