‘Mr Wylie has just told me that he is very sorry for his mistake. It appears that his memory did not serve him well.’

Frances turned to Wylie, who was trying to avoid her gaze. ‘And yet, I recall that you volunteered the information about the lost tooth before Mrs Antrobus had written her statement and before the remains were examined. Now how can that be?’

Wylie gave a helpless shrug and a nervous laugh. ‘I can only apologise.’

‘I do not want an apology,’ Frances told him, ‘I want an explanation. When you came to inform me that the remains had been found you said that when you saw Mrs Antrobus she was too overcome to speak, but I am now wondering whether that was entirely true. Perhaps you did speak to her briefly and she told you as much as she could recall about the tooth extraction: the information she later included in her statement. But it was little enough and so you thought you would help her with a made up story to corroborate what she had said. I assume you paid careful attention to Dr Bond’s statement just now?’

He squirmed like a man in pain. ‘I – do not have the stomach for such details, but – yes.’

‘And you added a further refinement to your evidence to match what he had found. Is that not the case?’

‘Mr Wylie,’ warned Rawsthorne sternly, ‘I would advise you to say nothing. Miss Doughty has just alleged that you perjured yourself to a coroner’s jury, which is an extremely serious matter.’

Wylie gave a little gasp and wiped his face with a handkerchief. It was warm and oppressive in the court but he was perspiring even more than could be attributable to the climate. ‘I must abide by the advice of Mr Rawsthorne,’ he muttered weakly.

Frances favoured him with an unforgiving stare. ‘Of course you must.’

She left Mr Wylie to his uncomfortable thoughts and went to speak to Lionel Antrobus, but as she did so she saw a young woman, who had been sitting at the back of the court with a half veiled bonnet, make for the exit. There was something a little familiar about the dress and the neat quick movement, and Frances hurried after her for a closer look, quickly realising that she was Dr Goodwin’s maidservant.

Was this simple curiosity, wondered Frances, or had the maid been sent by Dr Goodwin to observe the proceedings on his behalf, and if the latter, why, after his interest in Mrs Antrobus’ case had ended several years ago, was he still concerned?

Lionel Antrobus and Mr Marsden were in close conversation when Frances approached them boldly. ‘Sirs, I am sorry to interrupt, but I hope I might have a word.’

Marsden offered a sly smile. ‘What brings you here, Miss Doughty? Looking for stories for your sensational tales?’

‘I am sure I don’t know what you mean,’ replied Frances with a dignified air.

‘Neither do I,’ said Antrobus.

‘Oh this young lady is a prolific writer of halfpenny tales, all about a silly girl detective called Miss Dauntless,’ taunted the solicitor. ‘Half of Bayswater thinks the stories are true!’

‘I am not the author of the stories and I don’t know who is,’ Frances retorted sharply.

‘She writes under the name W. Grove, but I know better,’ insinuated Marsden with a sneer.

‘You know nothing, sir. But my business is not with you. I was about to ask Mr Antrobus if he knows where his brother was employed when in America.’

Marsden wrinkled his nose in distaste. ‘I don’t know about you, Mr Antrobus, but I find the word “business” on the lips of a female particularly unpleasant.’

‘And yet I see that there is a point to the question,’ observed Antrobus, thoughtfully. ‘I will look into it,’ he promised.

As Frances thanked him, she saw that Inspector Sharrock, who had been talking to the coroner, was just about to depart and quickly bid them ‘Good-day’ and hurried after him. Behind her she could hear Marsden give a laugh of derision.

‘Inspector, if I might have a word with you!’ Frances called.

Sharrock rolled his eyes, but he paused. ‘I’m a busy man, but I know better than to put you off, as it will only make twice the nuisance later on. One word, that is all I have time for!’ They left the hall and walked on down Church Street together, Frances’ long legs and youth enabling her to easily match the Inspector’s impatient stride.

‘I have been hoping to speak to you about the enquiries that were originally made into the disappearance of Mr Antrobus in 1877. I know that it was thought that he had vanished while in Bristol, but I can’t believe that you would not have made some enquiries too.’

‘We were in consultation with the Bristol police and gave them such information as we had, yes. And they won’t be at all happy when they hear about this. They’ve been asking round all the dentists in Bristol to see if any of them remembers a Mr Antrobus and his wisdom tooth. I’ve a mind to arrest that Wylie for wasting police time!’

‘Did you ever consider at the time that Mr Antrobus might have returned to London or decided to leave his family?’

‘The police are not stupid, Miss Doughty,’ he said irritably, ‘we know the sort of things people get up to.’

‘I am sorry, I didn’t mean to imply any failing on your part, but I know you and your men are very hard-pressed and there was no actual evidence in this case that a crime had actually taken place.’

‘That is true, and there still isn’t. You know about the wife, of course. Men have walked off for less than that.’

‘But there are the sons.’

‘Yes, and he was a good father by all accounts, but they haven’t had so much as a letter from him. One of the Kent police went to the school and had some words with them. They are two very unhappy boys, missing their father, there’s no dissembling there. There’s an aunt too, respectable type. The constable paid her a visit, and if she’s hiding Mr Antrobus there was no sign of it.’

He darted away, and Frances let him go.

Frances returned to her empty rooms to reflect on what she had learned. As Harriett Antrobus herself had said, many men suffered falls and where was the man who had not lost a tooth? The only thing that connected the second skeleton to Edwin Antrobus was the bag and its contents, and a thief could have abandoned it at any time. The one thing of which she was sure was that Mr Wylie, from his anxiety to have matters resolved, had lied to the court.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Frances’ reflections were enlivened when Sarah bustled back, full of news. She had interviewed the Antrobus’ former parlourmaid, Lizzie, who had said she knew of no reason for her master not to return home from Bristol, there having been nothing unusual in his manner or state of health before he disappeared. Edwin Antrobus, she declared, had been neither better nor worse than any master she had worked for previously or since, and his conduct had been perfectly proper at all times. Mrs Antrobus’ affliction, which had required her to creep about the house like a mouse, she had thought very strange, but it was not for her to question the arrangements. Mr Antrobus was very sad about the unfortunate position but bore up well. As far as she was aware there had been no disagreements between husband and wife, although had there been any they would have been conducted almost in whispers.

Few visitors had come to the house. Mr Luckhurst was sometimes there. Mr Lionel Antrobus and his family called, Miss Pearce came once a week to see her sister and there were any number of medical men. The only person with whom she had ever seen Edwin Antrobus have an altercation was a poor man who had repeatedly come to the house and was very persistent in his appeals for money. He didn’t look like someone who had been living on the street, only someone very ill-clad who had not attended to his toilet as often as he should. On the first occasion he had actually dared to come to the front door and asked to see the lady of the house. Lizzie had directed him to the servant’s entrance, but he had refused to go, saying he had as much right as anyone to come in through the front door. The maid, naturally not wanting to let him in, had shut the door, leaving him standing on the doorstep while she fetched Mr Antrobus.