Frances saw that it was impossible to reason with her visitor and abandoned the attempt. ‘I understand your concerns, but I do not know why you have come to see me.’

He paused to collect his thoughts. ‘I cannot ask you to simply stop encouraging Harriett in her madness; your profession is your bread, I appreciate that. But you must be warned: you are being drawn into some very dark business. Miss Doughty, would you be prepared to change masters – to be employed by me instead? Only tell me what Wylie is paying you and I will undertake to pay you that sum with an additional ten per cent.’

Frances was about to respond with some asperity that her allegiance could not be bought or sold, or no client would ever trust her, but was prevented by a knock at the door. She had already told the housemaid that she was not to be disturbed when interviewing a client unless it was a matter of importance, so she waited with some interest for the door to be opened.

‘Miss Doughty,’ said the maid, awkwardly, ‘I’m sorry to intrude, but it’s a Mr Wylie, and he says it’s most urgent.’

Lionel Antrobus rose abruptly to his feet. ‘In that case I will take my leave at once. Please consider what I have said.’

‘You will not leave, you will stay where you are,’ said Frances, who could snap out an order when the occasion demanded.

He stared at her in astonishment.

Sarah, who had been sitting stitching a lace edging to a cap while listening carefully to the conversation, quietly put her sewing aside and flexed her fingers.

‘You have not misheard, please sit down.’ Frances turned to the maid. ‘Please ask Mr Wylie to come in.’

‘Have you planned this encounter?’ demanded Antrobus.

‘I have not. I was not expecting to see Mr Wylie today and am most curious as to what he might have to say, as indeed you must also be.’ Antrobus gave a dark frown but made no move either to sit or leave.

Wylie arrived somewhat out of breath and was taken aback to see the other man. ‘Antrobus? What are you doing here? Well, no matter, this is something you will want to hear. I have brought the most extraordinary news. The remains of Edwin Antrobus have been found, and this time there can be no doubt!’

Lionel Antrobus drew a deep breath and sat down. He was clearly shaken by the announcement and took some moments to calm himself. Frances realised that Wylie, who could see only what was good in the news he had brought, had been somewhat insensitive in the way he had informed Lionel Antrobus that his brother was dead, perhaps assuming that because of the other man’s stony exterior there was no trace of fraternal feeling within.

‘Please take a seat Mr Wylie and tell me what has happened.’

Sarah, seeing that there was not, after all, to be a fight, looked more at ease, but she did not take up her sewing and remained keenly observant.

Wylie sat, his face glowing with excitement. ‘I received a message from Miss Pearce telling me that a policeman had come to the house. A very noisy policeman, I am afraid. She was able to persuade him that Mrs Antrobus could not be disturbed and spoke to him herself. He informed her that some remains have been found in a brickyard in Shepherd’s Bush.’

‘What kind of remains and why do they think it might be Edwin’s?’ asked Lionel Antrobus, more quietly than his usual manner, though his hard tone remained.

‘A skeleton, and with it a gentleman’s leather travelling bag of the very kind Mr Antrobus carried. The bag was empty, so we must presume a thief took the contents, but there was a small inner pocket he must have missed. It contained Mr Antrobus’ business cards.’

Lionel Antrobus remained sceptical. ‘That only suggests that the bag might be Edwin’s; it does not necessarily identify the skeleton. However, it is progress of a sort.’

‘Miss Pearce advised me that she interviewed her sister and conveyed to the policeman some information which might assist in finally establishing the identity of the remains.’

‘What information?’ demanded Antrobus.

‘She did not elaborate, only begged me to come here and inform you of the development at once.’

‘What did Harriett have to say? Did you see her?’

‘Briefly, but she was too overcome to speak. Naturally there will be an inquest.’

Antrobus rose to his feet. ‘Was this policeman from Paddington Green?’

‘I believe so, an Inspector Sharrock.’

‘Then I will proceed there at once and find out what he knows.’

‘I went to see Inspector Sharrock at the police station early this morning,’ Frances informed them, ‘but he was not there, as he was engaged on an important matter, which might well have been the discovery of the remains.’

‘It was,’ confirmed Wylie. ‘He told Miss Pearce that he had already been to the tobacconist’s but Mr Antrobus was not at home, and he was on his way back to the station, so he might be there now.’

Frances rose to leave. ‘Then we will all go. Sarah, please secure a cab.’

The two men looked at each other in the unfriendliest manner possible.

‘And it is essential, sirs,’ she told them sternly, ‘that you put aside your differences and address yourselves to your common interest – discovering the truth.’ Frances had found that speaking to grown men as if they were schoolboys tended to produce the best results, and this occasion was no different. Both sulkily agreed.

On her way out, Sarah cracked her knuckles, loudly.

There was a grim absence of conversation in the cab as it rumbled down Westbourne Grove. Frances reflected on the relief that would come with the dismissal of uncertainty, even by way of bad news, a relief that Mr Wylie undoubtedly felt but Lionel Antrobus clearly did not. If Edwin Antrobus could finally be laid to rest then a great many things would change – and not all of them to his brother’s satisfaction.

Sharrock had only recently returned to the station together with Constable Mayberry, who was quickly dispatched to fetch chairs for the visitors, but Lionel Antrobus was too impatient to wait for chairs. ‘Inspector,’ he rapped, ‘I am Edwin Antrobus’ brother and I demand to see the remains at once, together with any other evidence you may have.’

‘I can show you the bag that was found but the remains have been sent to the Westminster Hospital for Dr Bond the police surgeon to look at. And you sir?’ he asked Wylie.

‘I am Stephen Wylie, a business associate of Mr Edwin Antrobus and acting for his unhappy wife. Miss Doughty is employed by myself and Mrs Antrobus to discover the truth about her husband’s disappearance.’

Sharrock grunted. ‘I suppose both of you are content that the ladies join our discussion. Not that it will make much difference if you aren’t, from my experience. Come this way.’

The discomfort in the Inspector’s office as they were all seated was due to more than just the overcrowding. Only Sharrock seemed at his ease as he placed a leather bag, creased, scuffed and discoloured, on top of the untidy pile of paperwork on his desk. ‘Can either of you gentlemen identify this as the property of Mr Edwin Antrobus?’

Lionel Antrobus examined the bag. ‘My brother had purchased a new travelling bag not long before he disappeared. He was thinking of having it stamped with the name of the business but he had not yet done so. This could be the one, assuming it has lain neglected in contact with dirt or rubbish, but it could equally well have nothing to do with him.’ He opened it and peered inside.

‘It is very like the kind of bag he carried, but more than that I cannot say,’ Wylie admitted. ‘I was told there were some business cards?’

‘Still where we found them,’ said the Inspector.

Lionel Antrobus drew a card case from an inner pocket. There was a long silence as he opened it and studied the contents. At last he took a deep breath and nodded. ‘This is Edwin’s card case, engraved with his initials, and these are his cards.’ He paused, then placed them on the desk. ‘You will want these for the inquest, I suppose, but in time I would like them returned to me. Of course, this does not even identify the bag, let alone the remains.’