There were no questions for Mr Rawsthorne, who resumed his seat and patted Miss Pearce’s hand in a kindly fashion.

Mr Wylie was the next witness and recounted the same story he had told at the police station. However, he said that on further reflection he had become quite certain that the tooth his associate had had extracted was a wisdom tooth from the left lower jaw. He also recalled seeing his friend experience some pain on walking and when he had asked about it Antrobus had simply said it was an old injury that occasionally troubled him.

As Wylie resumed his place, Mr Luckhurst, with an intensely serious expression, rose to his feet and went to speak to the coroner’s officer. There was a brief conversation and then Luckhurst wrote in his notebook, tore out the page, handed the paper to the officer and limped back to his seat. Frances glanced at him, and Mr Gillan leaned closer, but Luckhurst simply allowed a flicker of the eyebrows and said nothing.

Lionel Antrobus was called next. Asked if he could corroborate the evidence concerning his brother’s leg injury he said he could not. If his brother had broken any bones he was unaware of it.

‘A broken leg is not a trivial injury,’ observed Dr Thomas. ‘The deceased could have been incapacitated for some time. Family and business associates would not have been unaware of it.’ The jurymen nodded in agreement.

‘I agree,’ said Lionel Antrobus. ‘For that reason I do not believe the remains can be those of my brother.’

He also had no recollection of being told about a tooth extraction, although he was obliged to admit that he and his brother had not been close. Before Edwin’s entry into the tobacco trade they had met only infrequently, and afterwards most of their conversation had been on business matters.

As Lionel Antrobus returned to his seat with a grim expression, the coroner was in the process of announcing that there were no further witnesses to call, when he was handed Mr Luckhurst’s message. He perused it without a change in demeanour and then said, ‘There is one last witness.’

The officer beckoned Luckhurst to the seat by the coroner’s table. As the little man lurched up to the chair, Frances wondered for a moment why he did not employ a walking cane, but then reflected that it might be a matter of pride that he could do very well without one. As he took his place he smiled at the onlookers as if to say ‘Look your fill, do! Aren’t I a sight to behold?’

‘Please give your full name to the court and the reasons why you have volunteered to give evidence.’

‘My name is George Henry Luckhurst and I am Mr Edwin Antrobus’ business partner. I believe I know him better than anyone present in this court. I was first introduced to him by a mutual friend in 1863, shortly after he returned from America, where he had spent two years studying the tobacco industry.’

Frances wondered if the significance of this information was as apparent to others as it was to her. It meant that Edwin Antrobus had been far from home at a time that could have coincided with a leg injury. If he did not want to worry his family he might not have mentioned it at all in letters home, which explained why no one knew of it.

‘Three years later we went into business partnership as Luckhurst and Antrobus Fine Tobacco.’

‘Did Mr Antrobus ever tell you about an accident in which he had broken bones?’ asked the coroner.

‘No, he never mentioned it to me.’

‘Did he ever tell you that he had had a wisdom tooth extracted while on a business trip?’

‘No, he did not.’

‘Did he ever say that he was suffering pain from an abscess in the jaw?’

‘No. He was a very reserved man. He rarely discussed personal matters and almost never alluded to his state of health. He wished to appear robust and strong, especially in view of the active nature of his work that necessitated a great deal of travelling. He did not like to admit to any weaknesses.’ Luckhurst paused, and for a moment the only sound in the court was pencils on paper.

‘I do have one thing of importance to convey in that respect,’ he added, and his tone carried such seriousness it was enough to cause the scribblers to pause and raise their heads. ‘Some years ago I was suffering considerable discomfort from a wisdom tooth and thinking of going to a dentist. I asked Antrobus if he could recommend a man, and he said he could not as by and large he detested dentists and only went to them when it was strictly necessary. He also volunteered the opinion that wisdom teeth were more trouble than they were worth. He told me that he had had all of his removed in America when he was twenty-five and, while it had been an unpleasant experience requiring substantial doses of ether and whisky, he had never regretted it.’

There was a brief silence in the court followed by a burst of excited chatter, which the coroner quickly quelled.

‘Mr Luckhurst,’ Dr Thomas leaned forward intently and everyone waited in anticipation to hear what would be said next. ‘I want to be quite clear on this. Mr Antrobus told you that he had had all of his wisdom teeth removed as a young man?’

‘He did.’

‘I assume that you simply took his word for it.’

‘I did not look into his mouth to check, no,’ said Luckhurst with a smile.

Dr Thomas addressed the jury. ‘I wish to remind you, gentlemen, that Dr Bond has testified that the remains before you have one wisdom tooth still in place.’ He turned to Luckhurst again. ‘Is there anything else you can tell me?’

‘No, that is all.’

As Luckhurst returned to his seat Frances looked about her and saw Mr Wylie very shocked and unhappy, Mr Rawsthorne displeased and Marsden with an unashamed smirk of triumph. Lionel Antrobus, his evidence now vindicated, his control of his brother’s property unchallenged, did not, despite everything, appear content. The burden of duty and the uncertainty remained. Mr Gillan and the ranks of newsmen were clearly delighted, their pencils speeding over paper in a tangle of hooks and whirls, their eyes shining at the prospect of a column headed ‘Exciting scenes in court.’

‘That is all the witnesses we have today,’ announced Dr Thomas, staring keenly around the room as if challenging anyone else to appear, but the assembled company held its collective peace and he nodded. He then addressed the jurors, who exhibited that look of anxiety that always appears on the faces of men confronting the prospect of returning a decision they do not feel competent to make. ‘I propose adjourning the proceedings for one week to enable further witnesses to be found.’ There was audible evidence of relief.

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.’