Текст книги "The Children of Silence"

Автор книги: Linda Stratmann

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 20 (всего у книги 22 страниц)

‘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.’

Frances saw that he would not be deflected. The maid, who was retreating to a chair looking very frightened, had, she noted, announced the arrival of two policemen, yet only Sharrock had entered the parlour, and Frances wondered what the other one was doing. ‘Might I at least request that your business be completed swiftly so we may continue our celebration?’ she said. My uncle and Miss Pearce have just announced their betrothal.’

Sharrock did not share the joy of the company. He had not been offered a seat, but nevertheless he sat down. ‘I am investigating the murder of Mr Jonathan Eckley and have made a list of all persons who might have had a motive to kill such a highly respected gentleman. You know of his quarrel with Dr Goodwin, however I am satisfied that the doctor has an alibi for the time of death. I have also interviewed all the teachers recently dismissed from the school by Mr Eckley, which was very interesting since they were all deaf. Funny business that. However, I have been able to eliminate all of them from my enquiries. Mr Isaac Goodwin is also not under suspicion for that crime. Recently I was supplied with some documents relating to work carried out for Mr Eckley by a private detective.’

Cornelius glanced questioningly at Frances, and Sharrock smiled wryly. ‘No, on this occasion it was not Miss Doughty, but another, less illustrious member of that profession. Amongst those documents was a list of names: the persons he had interviewed on the subject of Isaac Goodwin, whose parentage he had been engaged to discover.’

‘Then you will know that the detective came here and spoke to us,’ said Harriett. ‘He said that he was interviewing all former patients of Dr Goodwin and their families.’

‘Indeed, and his account of that interview shows that while you believed your mother was once a patient of Dr Goodwin, you had no information to impart regarding Mr Isaac.’

‘Yes, that is so.’

Sharrock pulled a notebook from his pocket and thumbed through the pages. ‘Following that interview, however, Miss Pearce paid a visit to Dr Goodwin. Is that not the case?’

All eyes turned to Charlotte. ‘Yes,’ she admitted. ‘I thought he should be warned about the enquiries, as it seemed to me that someone was attempting to defame him, and it has always been my belief that he is an honourable man.’

‘During your conversation with Dr Goodwin, he mentioned to you that he knew who was employing the detective, in fact he told you that it was Mr Eckley.’

‘Yes, he did.’

‘But having warned the good doctor about the detective, and discovered that he already knew about him, I would have thought that you had done all that was required.’

‘Inspector, where is this leading?’ Cornelius demanded.

‘All will be clear in a moment, Sir,’ said Sharrock. ‘The thing is that shortly after Miss Pearce called on Dr Goodwin, a lady who had taken care to wear a thick veil called on Mr Eckley and demanded a private interview. Now the maid who admitted her did not of course see her face, but the case being curious she took note of the lady’s dress and height, and it was distinctive enough that she felt sure that she would be able to recognise her again.’ He consulted his notes. ‘Woven braid used to mend the cuffs of the gown and an unusual padded bag. I am in very little doubt that the lady in question was Miss Pearce.’

Charlotte took a deep breath. ‘I do not deny it. I went to beg Mr Eckley not to continue his pursuit of a good and innocent man.’

‘That was very kind and brave of you my dear,’ soothed Cornelius, patting her hand.

‘If the ladies would be good enough to let me know where they were on the night of the murder of Mr Eckley?’ asked Sharrock. ‘That would be a week ago last Wednesday? About eight o’clock?’

The sisters glanced at each other. ‘I am sure we were at home here together as we usually are,’ said Mrs Antrobus, ‘but one day is so very like another.’

‘It would have been the day after the investigator called,’ Sharrock told her. ‘The day after Miss Pearce made her visits to Dr Goodwin and Mr Eckley. That might help place it better in your mind.’

‘You were ill all that day,’ said Charlotte turning to her sister. ‘I remember thinking at the time that it was because that man had upset you.’ She addressed the Inspector. ‘Harriett sometimes wakes up with a pain in her head and when she does it can last the whole day until she sleeps again. She usually retires to bed very early on those occasions.’

‘So at the time Mr Eckley was being stabbed, Mrs Antrobus was in bed. And you, Miss Pearce?’

‘I was here, doing some needlework.’

Constable Mayberry appeared in the doorway. ‘Sir – I found these in the kitchen,’ he said, handing over some cook’s knives.

‘Good work,’ approved Sharrock, examining the knives closely. The metal blades clattered together as he did so, and Harriett flinched. ‘Interesting. A matching set, I believe. Nice quality. Were these all you found?’

‘That was all, sir.’

‘Inspector, where is this questioning tending?’ asked Cornelius, ‘because I am finding it most objectionable. And please stop making so much noise.’

Sharrock said nothing but pushed aside some of the dishes on the parlour table to make a space and laid out the knives on the cloth in order. There were four of them, ranging in size from a small paring knife to a cleaver, but he then parted them to leave a space between the second and third. ‘Something missing, I think: medium size, six inch blade. Something like this.’ He took a paper-wrapped object from his pocket and laid it in the space, then opened up the paper. It was the missing knife, stained with blood and dirt.

Harriett uttered a little gasp and placed a hand over her mouth, and Charlotte recoiled in distaste. Frances and Sarah, who had seen worse sights, gazed at the object with interest. All the knives, including the one Sharrock had brought, had the same design of stout wooden handle stamped with the name of the manufacturer.

‘Surely this is not an object to place on a tea table in front of ladies,’ Cornelius objected. He made to cover it with a napkin, but the Inspector stretched out an arm and prevented him. ‘You are not suggesting it is from the same set are you? The wear on the handle is quite different from the others.’

‘The ladies might be able to enlighten me on this,’ suggested Sharrock, ‘but it is my belief that in a set of knives of different sizes the cook does not use them all the same amount, so some get worn more than others.’

Cornelius glanced at the ladies in the room. ‘Miss Smith?’

Sarah nodded. ‘The Inspector is right.’

Sharrock had that air of satisfaction that always preceded his making someone’s day very uncomfortable. ‘You see, I think that Miss Pearce’s anxiety over Mr Eckley’s enquiries was not so much for Dr Goodwin but for her own reputation and indeed, as I now see from this little celebration, her future prospects. I believe she made an appointment to see Mr Eckley in private, perhaps luring him with the promise of information for his pursuit of Dr Goodwin. She slipped out of the house when Mrs Antrobus was in bed, taking this knife, and stabbed Mr Eckley. As she ran away she bumped into the young person called Ratty. He saw no face, not even eyes as he might have done in the case of a masked robber. What I think he saw was a lady wearing a heavy dark veil. Not wanting to be seen running down the street with a wet bloodstained knife, or get blood on her clothes by putting it in her pocket, she pushed it into one of the flower urns near the school, hoping to recover it at her leisure.’

‘This is outrageous!’ exclaimed Cornelius, forgetting himself, and Mrs Antrobus whimpered in pain and covered her ears. ‘Inconceivable! What possible motive could Charlotte have to do such a thing? She is a gentle creature and quite incapable of any such action.’

Charlotte took his hand and pressed it, laying a finger against her lips.

‘As to motive, that is something that the lady might wish to discuss in private,’ said Sharrock. He rose to his feet. ‘Charlotte Pearce, I am arresting you for the murder of Jonathan Eckley. You are advised not to make any statement that might tend to incriminate you. I require you to accompany me to the station for further questioning.’

Cornelius made to protest, but Charlotte silenced him and rose. ‘I will go. Miss Doughty – Frances – would you be so kind as to stay here with Harriett?’

‘And I will accompany you, my dear, and do everything necessary to resolve this dreadful mistake,’ Cornelius assured her.

The unfortunate maidservant was sitting in a corner, sniffling with fright. ‘Please, everso please, can I go home now?’ she whispered.

Cornelius pressed a coin into her hand. ‘And not a word to anyone of what has happened here.’ She looked at the coin, gasped, nodded and hurried away.

Charlotte departed soon afterwards, leaning on Cornelius’ arm, the couple flanked by the two policemen. Frances and Mrs Antrobus were left with the dismal remains of the celebration. Frances did what she could to console the lady in her misery, but at length the conclusion was that the only thing that would mend the situation was Charlotte’s return.

‘I have every confidence in my uncle,’ said Frances. ‘He will leave nothing undone to assist, I know it.’

‘I am sure of it. He is a true gentleman and a good friend.’

‘Perhaps if you were to tell me everything you know, I might be able to find some way in which I too can help. Is it true that Charlotte went to see both Dr Goodwin and Mr Eckley?’

Harriett nodded.

‘What do you think Inspector Sharrock meant when he referred to Charlotte wanting to protect her own reputation and prospects? Is he just guessing at something?’ Frances’ mind went back to her conversations with Dr Goodwin, the fact that he had admitted he knew the identity of Isaac’s mother and her own firm exhortation to tell the truth, however upsetting. ‘Or has he learned that Charlotte is Isaac Goodwin’s mother? I think he has.’

‘All is now ashes!’ moaned Harriett. ‘My poor sister! I am told the boy is handsome and the image of his father. I hope he is never so cruel as to deceive an unfortunate girl. The man came to the shop – Charlotte assisted our father there sometimes – he represented himself as single and offered her marriage. But we found out too late – far, far too late – that he already had a wife and children.’

‘And Dr Goodwin, who knew your mother since she was a patient of his, helped find a family to care for the child.’

Harriett clasped Frances’ hands. ‘We were so nearly sisters, I think of you still as a kind sister. I know you will not broadcast poor Charlotte’s shame.’

‘No, of course not. I can see why someone might suppose she had good reason to try and stop Mr Eckley from making his enquiries, but from pleading with him to taking violent action against him is a long step which I cannot believe she would take.’

They were expecting a message from Cornelius, but in the event he returned to the house alone, looking like a man crushed by fate. ‘She has been charged with murder,’ he told them, quietly. ‘I have procured the services of a solicitor to stay by her side while Inspector Sharrock speaks to her, but he would not permit me to be present. And would you believe, my poor dear Charlotte never for one moment thought of herself, only you, Harriett. She could not be easy in her mind until I assured her that I would engage a competent servant to care for you, which I have done, and she will be here directly. But you have my solemn promise that I will not rest until Charlotte is free again. Frances, you must instruct Tom Smith’s boys to carry messages to me from the police station every hour of the day, every minute if need be.’

‘Of course I will.’

He shook his head in disbelief. ‘They really have no evidence. There must be a thousand knives like the one the Inspector had all over London. It is outrageous that the police should be going about arresting respectable people – are there no criminals in Bayswater?’

‘There are any number of desperate persons willing to stab a man to death for the sake of his watch,’ said Harriett. ‘One reads about them in the newspapers all the time. The Inspector must be urged to look for them. Frances – will you try to convince him?’

‘I will do what I can.’

Within the hour a large comfortable-looking nursemaid had arrived and taken charge of the patient, and Frances went home to reflect on the events of the day.

CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

Next morning Frances, with a firm sense of what she must do, returned to Craven Hill to see Harriett Antrobus. She found the lady in a better state than she might have been under the circumstances, declaring that the nursemaid Cornelius had engaged to care for her was ‘a treasure and a miracle. Nothing is too much for her, and she even has a gruff voice. Your uncle is so very kind to me.’

‘I will reassure Charlotte that you are well looked after and keeping in good spirits,’ Frances promised. ‘I was able to see her just now, and she is hopeful that all will be resolved happily very soon. There is no further news on the case, but I did speak to Inspector Sharrock, and I think I have made good progress towards persuading him to direct his enquiries another way.’

‘Oh, but that is wonderful!’ breathed Harriett. ‘I am sure no one but you could have achieved so much.’

‘There is still a great deal to be done before Charlotte can be declared innocent of all blame, but I have given the matter careful thought, and I think I can see a way of further influencing the Inspector. I have come to know his ways and character very well in the last year or so. Despite his harsh manners and rough exterior, Inspector Sharrock does have a sympathetic nature, and I think he might respond to an appeal made by two ladies together with my uncle, who I believe has impressed him as a respectable gentleman incapable of untruth.’

‘But you cannot expect me to go to a police station,’ Harriett objected. ‘There would be crowds of noisy people there. I could muffle my ears of course, but how might I then hold a conversation?’

‘No, I understand that and would never ask you to do such a thing, which is why I have asked both the Inspector and my uncle to come here today.’

‘Today?’

‘I know I have taken a liberty by inviting guests to your home, and I beg your forgiveness, but I thought you would not wish your sister to remain in custody for a moment longer than is necessary.’

‘Not a single moment,’ Harriett agreed. ‘What a surprising and energetic young woman you are; I can see why the newspapers praise you so.’

Soon afterwards Cornelius and the Inspector arrived as arranged, Sharrock looking grim and Cornelius weary but resolute.

When they were all assembled in the little parlour Frances addressed the Inspector. ‘I have asked you to come here today to listen to the very earnest entreaties of Mrs Harriett Antrobus on behalf of her poor sister. You will, I am sure, admit that she knows her own sister better than anyone and can give you a full understanding of her character. When you have heard what she has to say you will see that it is quite impossible for Miss Pearce to have acted in the manner of which she has been accused.’

Cornelius nodded emphatically. ‘Well said, my dear. Inspector, I beg you to listen and take good note of what both my niece and Harriett have to tell you.’

‘We also feel very strongly that the police have been hasty and presumptuous, and ignored other far more obvious avenues of enquiry,’ added Frances, glancing at Harriett, who nodded emphatically.

‘Oh we have, have we?’ growled Sharrock. ‘Well let Mrs Antrobus speak for herself.’

Harriett turned her bright, luminous eyes to the policeman. ‘I am so grateful that you have taken the trouble to listen to me. My poor sister is a gentle selfless creature, who has laboured all her life in the interests of others but has never committed an act that would harm another. She would be quite incapable of doing so.’

Sharrock remained unconvinced. ‘People have surprised me before with what they are capable of; they’ve surprised their nearest and dearest too.’

‘But your actions are so blinkered!’ exclaimed Cornelius, loud enough to make Harriett wince. ‘First you arrest a respectable doctor and then a virtuous lady! Who will be next? The Lord Mayor of London?’

‘Indeed,’ continued Harriett. ‘Why cannot you look for some common street thief – every day the newspapers tell of desperate creatures who commit the most terrible crimes for next to nothing. Mr Eckley was surely lured into the Mews and murdered by a robber for the sake of his watch.’

Sharrock shook his head. ‘Street robbers act on the moment, they see something and they snatch it or they follow their mark to a quiet place. They don’t make an appointment by letter. We know that Eckley received a letter that day and took it with him to meet his murderer. We found a fragment of it in his hand.’

‘But you don’t know what the letter said,’ reasoned Harriett. ‘It might have had nothing to do with the case.’

‘Then why would the killer take it away? It makes no sense. People don’t steal letters. No, the killer took it because it made the appointment and was incriminating. Eckley must have been told to bring it to the meeting. The watch was only taken to make it look like a robbery.’

‘Harriett,’ interrupted Frances, softly, ‘how did you know that Mr Eckley’s watch had been stolen?’

Harriett looked startled, but recovered. ‘The Inspector has just said so.’

‘Yes, but you mentioned it before he did.’

‘Did I? Then you must have told me about it.’

‘I did not.’

‘In that case I must have read it in the newspapers, in the account of the inquest.’

Frances shook her head. ‘I was at the inquest. It was never mentioned.’

Harriett turned to Cornelius. ‘Then you must have told me, I am sure that someone did.’

‘I didn’t even know that his watch had been taken,’ protested Cornelius.

Sharrock gave Harriett a penetrating stare. ‘Very few people indeed know of it apart from the police.’

‘Then I must have been mistaken,’ said Harriett, lightly. ‘Perhaps I was confusing it with something else.’

‘Oh but you seemed very certain of yourself just now,’ Sharrock persisted. ‘You’ve been caught out, Mrs Antrobus. Just as we hoped you would be. All credit to Miss Doughty for spotting your little mistake yesterday and also for realising that it would be better evidence if spoken before a police witness. You see, to my mind there are only two ways that you could have known that Mr Eckley’s watch had been stolen. Either you were there yourself and took it or you were told about it by the person who did. It’s one of the two. Now which is it to be?’

Harriett looked about her, suddenly afraid, but there was no sympathy to be had from Frances.

Cornelius was astounded at the sudden turn in the conversation. ‘Have you taken leave of your senses?’ he exclaimed and then looked at Frances appealingly. ‘Say something!’

‘I’m sorry uncle, but I agree with the Inspector. I am waiting to hear what Harriett says.’

There were a few moments of quietness, broken only by the sound of Harriett trying to stifle her tears. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she told them, ‘I admit that I have been telling untruths, but it was for the best of reasons, to save my poor sister. Can that be wrong? Does she not deserve to be happy? Perhaps I was selfish, wanting her always to be by my side. But she has done a terrible thing and I suppose she must suffer for it now. Charlotte wanted to stop Mr Eckley’s enquiries because she knew,’ Harriett took a deep shuddering breath, ‘she knew that Mr Martin would abandon her when he found out that she was the mother of Isaac Goodwin.’

‘What?’ cried out Cornelius, aghast, and Harriett flinched at the stab of sound. He looked contrite and allowed her to recover before she went on.

‘That day, when I woke with one of my headaches, Charlotte must have known that I would be retiring to bed before my usual time. We went out for an early walk in Hyde Park to get some air. The streets are at their quietest then, and when we passed the pillar letter box by the church she posted a letter. She tried to distract me by drawing my attention to the flower beds but I saw what she did, and when I asked about it she said it was a note to Mr Martin. That night I retired to my room at six o’clock and did not rise again until six the next day. I did not see Charlotte in all that time, but next morning she was so upset that she confessed what she had done. She told me she had put the knife in the flower urn, she said it was covered in blood and she dare not put in her pocket or she would stain her clothes.’

Cornelius hid his face in his hands and groaned.

‘And she took the watch so the motive of the crime would appear to be robbery?’ asked Sharrock.

‘Yes.’

‘What did she do with it?’

Harriett fidgeted and her eyes flickered nervously about the room. ‘She knew she could not sell or pawn it. She threw it away.’

Frances had been watching the eyes of the trapped woman. She rose and went to the writing desk and tried to open the drawer, but it was locked. ‘Please let me have the key to this drawer.’

‘I don’t have it. Perhaps Charlotte has it.’

Frances turned about and came to face her. ‘I’m afraid I don’t believe you. In fact I don’t believe most of what you have been saying to me for the last month. I am going to have to search you.’

Harriett recoiled. ‘Please, no,’ she whispered.

‘I think you would prefer it to the Inspector searching you, which I am sure he is prepared to do.’ Sharrock looked alarmed at the suggestion but said nothing. ‘Or to avoid any searches, kindly give me the key.’

‘Harriett, I beg you,’ said Cornelius, ‘we must have this resolved. For the sake of decency give Frances the key to the desk. If you cannot then I will force the lock myself.’

Harriett hesitated and, without meeting the gaze of anyone in the room, took a key from her pocket and handed it to Frances. Cornelius smiled in relief, took Harriett’s hand and patted it gently. ‘Don’t worry; all will be well, I am sure of it. There has been a terrible mistake. Frances will find the answer, she always does.’

‘You are such a good kind man,’ murmured Mrs Antrobus, gazing up into his face, her eyes bright with tears, and Cornelius, like so many men before him, was unable to do anything but melt in sympathy.

As Frances unlocked and opened the drawer the Inspector hurried to her side and peered in. ‘Aha!’ he said, loudly enough to make Mrs Antrobus wince.

Cornelius cupped his hands protectively over Harriett’s ears. ‘Please – this lady has suffered enough.’

Frances stood back, and Sharrock delved into the drawer, removed a silver watch with a broken chain and held it up. ‘That should match the portion of chain found on the body, and if I am not mistaken, we have an engraving here – J.E.’

‘Charlotte gave it to me, she told me to hide it,’ whispered Harriett.

‘Was that before or after she threw it away?’ retorted Sharrock sarcastically. ‘Mrs Antrobus, I am arresting you for the murder of Jonathan Eckley —’

‘No,’ Harriett wept. ‘Please don’t put me in a cell, I couldn’t bear it.’

Cornelius stared at her in horror. He let go of her hand, rose and looked at the watch. ‘There can be no doubt?’

‘None,’ Sharrock assured him. ‘This is the murdered man’s watch. If Miss Pearce didn’t kill him then Mrs Antrobus did, and my money is on this lady here. Why don’t you call a cab, sir, and we can take her to the station?’

‘Please – no,’ begged Harriett.

‘Inspector – Uncle – might I suggest something?’ Frances interrupted. ‘I think in this very particular and unusual case it would be better if Mrs Antrobus was not taken to the police station but placed in some other secure custody, somewhere that would not be torture to her. A sanatorium, somewhere quiet. You could employ suitable women to guard her.’

‘I don’t have armies of women at my beck and call to guard special prisoners,’ argued Sharrock, ‘neither do the police have limitless monies for fancy sanatoriums.’

‘I am sure some arrangement could be made. Would you consider it? Uncle, can you help?’

Cornelius hesitated and then gave in. ‘Very well, for Charlotte’s sake, I will see what I can do.’