‘No, I never saw him again. There was so much in the newspapers about Edwin’s disappearance I assumed that Robert was keeping out of the way but would come back to torment me when he needed money. As time passed and he did not reappear I thought it very probable that he was in prison again.’
‘Harriett – why did you say nothing of this? You have concealed the truth not only from me but the police too. They would see that as a crime.’
‘Because I was afraid,’ she pleaded. She put aside the cup, and taking Frances’ hands, pressed them earnestly. ‘I was afraid of Robert and what he might do to me. Until the bones were found I thought that he was still alive and could come back at any time. When they were found, I knew that I was finally free of him, free from fear, and at the same time I thought that if the bones could be identified as Edwin’s then I would be free of Lionel too.’
‘I understand. Your cousin knew that you would be powerless until your husband’s body was found and used his knowledge of its whereabouts to try and force you to agree to make over the fortune of which he imagined you would become mistress. Unfortunately he died before he was able to reveal where he had hidden the remains.’
‘Then you do think Edwin is dead?’
‘I don’t know for certain, but I fear he is.’
Harriett heaved a sigh that seemed to come from her soul. She picked up the water cup and drank again. ‘Will you pursue your enquiries? I ask not as a client but a relation. It would mean so much to me if you did.’
‘I will do what I can. I assume I am no longer engaged by Mr Wylie since he is gone back to Bristol.’
‘So Charlotte has advised me. After the last inquest we found ourselves no further forward, and I hoped he would help me pay for some more searches to be done, but he would not. I think he is angry with me. He has never forgiven me for suggesting what he might say in evidence.’
‘Did you know that a man has been arrested for the murder of your cousin?’
‘No, I had not heard. One of his criminal associates, I suppose.’
‘No, it is Isaac Goodwin, Dr Goodwin’s son.’
‘Really? How astonishing! But he is just a boy.’
‘I believe and hope that your cousin’s death will prove to have been an accident. A fall down some cellar stairs. But Mr Goodwin is under suspicion because your cousin had been trying his blackmailing tricks on his father, accusing him of being responsible for your husband’s death. Now why should that be?’
‘Why indeed?’ responded Harriett. ‘What possible reason could Dr Goodwin have to harm Edwin?’
‘None, but your cousin may have fancied that Dr Goodwin wished to remove a rival for your love.’
‘Oh that is absurd. We were doctor and patient, nothing more.’
‘So Dr Goodwin says.’
There was just the smallest indication that, despite her words, Harriett was not flattered to know this.
Frances called on Dr Goodwin and, as was so often the case, was unsure as to whether the news she was bringing would please him or not. She found him not exactly cheerful but more optimistic than before.
‘I have just come from a long consultation with Mr Rawsthorne, and I am encouraged to believe that no prosecution will be brought. He has advised Isaac to say no more than he has already said, and if he holds his nerve all will be well.’
‘I am glad to hear it,’ said Frances. ‘Since we last spoke I have made a discovery which suggests to me that the man who called on you was none other than Robert Barfield, a cousin of Mrs Antrobus. He was the outcast of the family, more often in prison than out, a burglar who once rejoiced in the appellation “Spring-heeled Bob” .’
‘He had no spring in his heels when I saw him,’ grunted Goodwin.
‘He had injured himself attempting a prison escape, and his old profession was closed to him. When he came out of prison in 1877 he accosted Mrs Antrobus and offered to murder her husband, believing, despite her assurances to the contrary, that on his death she would become rich and he would live off her.’
Goodwin gave her a curious stare. ‘Did he now?’ He seemed about to say more but closed his mouth firmly.
‘I think he followed Mr Antrobus to Bristol. Perhaps he hoped to find an opportunity to kill him there but failed, and the two were seen at the railway station together on their way back to Paddington. He was later seen in possession of Mr Antrobus’ bag and signet ring.’
‘So the body has not yet been found?’
‘No, and it may never be.’
‘Neither man was seen alighting from the train?’
‘I believe not. Of course Paddington is such a very busy station.’ She prepared to depart. ‘I will let you know if I discover anything further. The case has become of greater importance to me now, in view of the fact that I will soon become related to the family.’
‘Related?’ he exclaimed. ‘How so?’
‘My uncle, Mr Cornelius Martin, a widower, is due to announce his engagement to Miss Pearce. It has all been a little sudden, but I am happy for them both.’
Dr Goodwin appeared anything but happy.
Frances faced him across his desk, placed her hands upon its surface and leaned forward to speak in a firm and earnest manner. ‘I don’t know what it is that you know, but I beg of you to reveal it either to me or to the police. I think that you are concealing something, not from a sense of guilt but out of a desire to protect a reputation. But think of this: murder has been done, and who knows but it might be done again? Imagine the guilt you will feel should a life be lost and you know that you could have saved it by speaking out. The choice is yours to protect either a reputation or a life.’
He was silent, but she had said enough and left him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
On Sunday afternoon, after the cool quiet of church followed by a simple luncheon, there was a family tea party at Craven Hill to celebrate the betrothal of Miss Charlotte Pearce and Mr Cornelius Martin. The happy couple were joined by Harriett Antrobus, Frances and Sarah in Mrs Antrobus’ private parlour, and Cornelius had thoughtfully engaged a tidy little maid to fetch and carry so his affianced lady should not have to trouble herself.
There was quiet conversation over the wooden cups and plates, and Cornelius revealed that he had spoken to Mr Lionel Antrobus who had agreed to his renting the upper part of the house after the wedding. Only immediate family would attend the ceremony, and Harriett had consented to be matron of honour. Shyly, Charlotte asked Frances if she would be bridesmaid and hoped that Sarah would be one of the witnesses. After receiving their warm agreement there was much talk of gowns, Cornelius maintaining a cheerful silent smile, despite the inevitable expense that must follow.
The maid, who had been well instructed, moved about as if afraid to make any noise at all. Charlotte was just about to ring for the girl to freshen the teapot when she appeared at the door. ‘If you please, Miss, I’m very sorry to intrude, but there’s two policemen say they want to talk to you very urgent. I tried to put them off, but —’
Cornelius rose. ‘I will deal with this,’ he said, but before he could do so, Inspector Sharrock walked in.
‘Oh,’ gasped the maid, ‘I am sorry —’
Sharrock looked about him at the company and the tea table. ‘Well this is very nice.’
‘Inspector, your visit is most inconvenient,’ Cornelius protested. ‘This is a family celebration. Can you not return another day?’
‘Please can everyone moderate their voices,’ asked Mrs Antrobus faintly, holding her hands over her ears.
‘Yes, let us be calm and do as Harriett asks,’ agreed Charlotte. ‘Elsie, bring more hot water, please.’
‘I don’t think so,’ said Sharrock, barring the maid’s way. ‘Elsie, you be a good girl and sit quiet in that corner. My business isn’t with you, but I want you to stay here.’