The Children of Silence (14 page)

‘It seems to me,’ said Frances, reluctantly, ‘that he has legal right on his side, in that he is acting in the interests of his nephews. Whether one approves or not, he is only doing what his brother would have wanted.’

‘The suggestion that I might remain in the house is a mere pretence to make him appear to be acting reasonably,’ Charlotte protested. ‘I am quite sure that he will demand a rent I will find impossible, but even if I could pay it, I need to be with Harriett. Has she not endured enough? We do not wish to trespass any further on Mr Wylie’s generosity. He cannot give us accommodation as he is in lodgings that we could not with any propriety share. And now it appears that Mr Marsden, who we had thought was acting in our interests, has turned against us. Miss Doughty, I implore you, do all you can to find Edwin or at least discover his fate, and then we will not be living in this agony of uncertainty.’

Frances promised Miss Pearce to redouble her efforts, and when her visitor had rested, Cornelius ordered a cab to conduct her home.

N
ext morning Frances received a short note from Lionel Antrobus saying that he would call to speak to her at 10 a.m. He seemed to assume that this arrangement would be convenient for her, since he did not ask if it was, and the reason for the appointment was not mentioned.

‘So you don’t like him much, then?’ grinned Sarah, after Frances had spent a minute or two expressing her opinion of that gentleman.

‘I am not at all convinced that he is acting in the best interests of his family, although he works very hard at appearing to do so. He has the entire trust of his brother, despite the difference in their fortunes, which must surely weigh hard upon him, and all power, both of making decisions and the disposal of income has been placed in his hands. Mrs Antrobus fears that he may be appropriating his brother’s fortune for his own use. If Mr Edwin Antrobus is not found then more than three years will go by before anyone will be able to see whether his executor has been as honest as he makes out and, if he is adept at covering his tracks, in all probability not even then.’

Frances had already decided to go to Paddington Green police station that morning to speak to Inspector Sharrock in the slight hope that he was willing to divulge what enquiries had been made in London at the time of Edwin Antrobus’ disappearance, and there was just time to do so if she looked sharp. The Inspector’s willingness to help her seemed to vary with the state of the weather, but she suspected that it might be due to the amount of peace he obtained at home where his wife had to manage not only him but also their six children. Frances, hoping that erupting teeth and summer colds had not deprived the Inspector of too much sleep, ordered a cab and, after writing to Lionel Antrobus to confirm their appointment, set out.

Sarah was busy with an unusual case presented to her by the Bayswater Women’s Suffrage Society. She was an active and valued member, standing guard at the door of meetings to control and eject any disruptive elements. Men who came to make a lot of noise and deride the lady speakers did not do so a second time. The society had recently had some leaflets printed to place in ladies’ reading rooms with the intention of attracting members, but to their annoyance there had been errors in the spelling that had served to make the lady suffragists appear ridiculous. The printer had tried to maintain that the errors were in the original written copy, but after a visit from Sarah he had been forced to admit that this was not the case. He next claimed that there had been a trivial mistake in the typesetting and wrote to the society offering to refund half the cost. Sarah was about to pay him another visit, to point out that a mere shift of type would have resulted only in a nonsense and not, as it had in this case, an insult to the appearance of the ladies. She suspected sabotage and wanted to root out the culprit.

Frances did not have a successful visit at Paddington Green as the Inspector had just been summoned away on an urgent matter and no one at the station could tell her anything about the Antrobus case or would permit her to examine the papers. She knew she had no entitlement to see the papers but thought it worth making the request. Unfortunately, young Constable Mayberry, the only policeman she might have been able to pressure into doing as she asked, was with the Inspector. The desk sergeant took great pains to inform her that once she was made an Inspector of police then she could order them all about as she pleased, and Frances departed thinking that that would be a very interesting situation.

From time to time Frances undertook secret work for the government, although she was never asked to do anything that placed either her life or her modesty in danger. She did consequently have the ear of the Prime Minister, but she had never dared to suggest that he should allow women in the police force. Mr Gladstone was no longer a young man and the idea of a female in uniform and wielding a truncheon might have given him apoplexy.

Sarah returned in time for a pot of tea to be made and reported her success. She had discovered that the printer’s new assistant, having had a falling out with his wife, had decided to take revenge on all women who dared to voice their opinions. The business that the Suffrage Society conducted with the printer was not so large that loss of its custom was a serious threat; however, Sarah had informed the proprietor that many of the society members were married to men of considerable influence in Bayswater, who, if they had any sense, deferred to their wives’ wishes. Matters were concluded to everyone’s satisfaction, except that of the printer’s assistant.

As Frances anticipated, Lionel Antrobus arrived to the very minute of his appointment. He favoured the apartment with a rapid critical glance, saw nothing that offended him and took a seat. Frances, as usual, introduced her valued assistant, and he gave Sarah a wary look and a curt nod.

‘Miss Doughty,’ he began, in the manner of a man who had no time to waste, ‘I understand that Miss Charlotte Pearce has been to see you following the delivery of Mr Marsden’s letter.’

‘She has, yes, and she was in considerable distress at its demands.’

He exhibited surprise. ‘I really can’t see why. She must have known that I would require the house for my nephews’ use. She cannot have been ignorant of young Edwin’s approaching birthday. I believe that I have been more than generous in permitting Harriett and Miss Pearce to remain in the house for so long, and they have been afforded ample notice to find some other accommodation.’

‘But their requirements are very unusual and their means limited,’ Frances reminded him.

‘Neither their requirements nor their means are any concern of mine,’ he declared. ‘My only duty is to carry out the wishes of my brother, to take the very course he would have taken had he been here. He had always intended that Edwin and Arthur should enter the business at the age of sixteen, and they will need a London home. I do not wish to part the brothers as they take great comfort from each other’s company, so Arthur will henceforward live and be schooled in Bayswater. I can scarcely place them in lodgings when their own father’s house is available.’

‘That much I understand,’ said Frances carefully, ‘but is it not also the case that you will reside with them?’

‘What are you implying?’ he retorted angrily. ‘The sole purpose of my living with my nephews is to supply a father’s supervision. There is another circumstance it would be only fair to mention. At present I reside above the shop premises with my son and his wife.’ Frances realised that he must be referring to the young man and woman she had seen serving in the shop. ‘My son has just advised me that in six months I can expect to be a grandfather. Upon that event, a relative of my daughter-in-law will come to live with us as housekeeper and nursemaid. The available accommodation is not suitable for the addition of both a child and a single female.’

‘Was it your brother’s wish that you live at Craven Hill?’ asked Frances.

‘You seem to think I am doing this for my own personal profit,’ he snapped. ‘I can assure you that this is not the case. I only take the place of my absent brother, as is my duty. When residing at Craven Hill, which is not my property and never will be, I will also attend to its upkeep and pay a fair rent into my brother’s estate for the good of his sons.’

‘But why can they not live with their mother?’ pleaded Frances. ‘I can understand that when they were boisterous young children it would have been hard for her, but they are older now and must surely appreciate how they must behave in her company.’

‘So much is true,’ Antrobus admitted, ‘but it was Edwin’s wish that they should not reside with their mother, for reasons which must be obvious.’

Frances remained stubborn. ‘It is not obvious to me. Kindly explain. When did he express this wish to you? It is not in the will.’

‘He last spoke of it only a few months before he disappeared. The reasons, Miss Doughty, are very plain, and I am sorry that you are unable to appreciate them. There is bad blood in that family, and I am not talking of their humble beginnings, which anyone with ability and diligence might rise above. I am referring to Harriet’s confused brain, which so far I am pleased to see has not revealed itself in her sons, but all the same, Edwin felt that any prolonged contact with their mother might provoke similar imaginings in the boys. Then there is her cousin, a hardened criminal who was forbidden the house. He used to lurk in the street nearby hoping to find a way in so he could beg or steal. He is currently in prison, I believe, but once he is released there will need to be a man in the house to protect the property.’

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.’