The Children of Silence

by Linda Stratmann

  Frances called on Mr Digby and imparted the news. He revealed that having given his conditional approval to the match the first thing his prospective son-in-law had done was to borrow five hundred pounds. He wondered if his daughter might reconsider Mr Candy. Frances could not advise him.

  There was better news for Mr Candy, as all the men who had made claims against the charity for injured workmen had been shown to be genuine and deserving cases. He appeared satisfied with the information and said that Frances could be sure of getting more assignments from him in future. He made no mention of Miss Digby, and Frances did not raise the subject.

  Frances had also managed to resolve the troubles of the respectable Mr and Mrs Reville, neither of whom, it turned out, had been faithless. After studying her father’s medical volumes she had had a quiet interview with Mr Reville’s widowed mother, who had finally confessed that her husband had not, as she had always maintained, died of a weak heart but from an unspeakable disease which had led to his decline into insanity, a condition which she feared might have been passed to her son. Mr Reville was deeply shocked at this news, delighted that his wife had not been untrue and resigned to the fact that his later years would probably mirror those of his father. The divorce proceedings were abandoned and the family was reunited, Mrs Reville vowing loyally to nurse her stricken husband to the end.

  Frances and Sarah were at home the following Saturday when an unexpected visitor was announced, a Mrs Eves, a lady of some sixty years, who arrived clutching a copy of that morning’s Chronicle. She was plainly dressed in an aged gown that looked as if it had long been doing duty for both summer and winter, and a bonnet of that indeterminate shade which made it hard to imagine what colour it had been when new. She brought with her a stale aroma of dusty carpets and kitchens scoured with old lemons.

  At the door of the apartment she stopped, looking almost ashamed. ‘Miss Doughty, I’m sorry to trouble you like this, and if you think I am being a silly old woman and send me home I would understand, really I would.’

  ‘Come in,’ said Frances, welcomingly. ‘How may I help you?’

  Mrs Eves crept over the threshold, and looked about her, approvingly. ‘You are very comfortable here.’

  ‘Thank you,’ smiled Frances, and she offered her a chair.

  The visitor sat, both hands still clasping the rolled up paper. ‘Do you charge for advice? I can’t spare much.’

  ‘Tell me what you need and I will let you know. There is no charge for a simple conversation.’

  ‘Only – I was thinking of talking to the police, but I don’t want them round my place searching and upsetting my lodgers or I’d go out of business. I don’t think you’d do such a thing, would you?’

  Frances and Sarah had once entered a house without being invited in and battered a door down, but the circumstances had been different. ‘I promise not to do so unless I believe that a life may be in danger.’

  ‘Oh, no, nothing like that, at least, I shouldn’t think so.’ Mrs Eves twisted the paper in her fists. Frances waited. ‘The thing is, I read in the paper today about the inquest on the bones and the man with a limp.’

  ‘Do you think you might know who he is?’

  ‘I could be wrong, of course, there’s lots of men with bad legs. Soldiers, and men who fall off horses, or rickety, or just born crooked.’

  Frances could see she needed some encouragement. ‘Mrs Eves, if you tell me what you know, I promise I will make no charge at all for a consultation.’

  Her face brightened. ‘Oh, that’s very kind, dear. Well, the thing is I take in lodgers in a house in Moscow Road. I usually have four gentlemen, all hardworking and respectable, and they pay their rent on time and give no trouble at all. But about three or four years ago, there was a man who went away without paying his rent, and I never had any word from him. I didn’t think that anything had happened to him, I just thought he had decided to cheat me of my rent money.’

  ‘So you didn’t report him as missing,’ guessed Frances. Mrs Eves nodded. ‘And did he walk with a limp?’

  ‘Yes he did. He told me he had broken his leg in an accident with a carriage.’

  ‘Do you recall when you last saw him?’

  Mrs Eves dug into a pocket and produced a small and very worn book. ‘It’s all here in my rent book. He came to stay on 3 October 1877 and the last rent I had off him was 14 November. A week after that he was gone.’

  ‘What name did he give?’

  ‘John Roberts’

  ‘You had no proof that it was his real name?’

  ‘No, not like actual papers or anything, but I never ask as long as they give me a week’s money in advance.’

  ‘Can you describe him to me? His age? His height? How was he dressed? Did he have a travelling bag?’

  ‘Well, as to age, it’s always so hard to tell with gentlemen, what with all their whiskers, but he wasn’t above forty, I would say. And not specially tall or very short neither. And he wasn’t dressed like a labouring man, more like a clerk. When he came he had no bag, just a few things wrapped in paper, but after about a week or two he got himself a nice leather bag, what must have cost a lot. I remember mentioning it and he said business had been good.’

  ‘Did he wear any jewellery?’

  ‘Yes, he’d got himself a nice ring, as well. That’s why I didn’t expect him to run off, when he had that ring, it showed he had some means, didn’t it?’

  ‘Did he get the ring at the same time as the bag or was he wearing it when he first arrived?’

  She pulled a face. ‘I can’t rightly remember. I know the first time I noticed it was after he had got the bag.’

  ‘Can you describe the ring?’

  ‘Gent’s signet ring with a stone. I didn’t look close.’

  Frances went to get the portrait of Edwin Antrobus that Mr Wylie had supplied and showed it to Mrs Eves. ‘Is this he?’

  She looked at the portrait for a long while. ‘I’m not sure. It was a long while back. I’m not so good on faces.’

  ‘Did he ever complain of toothache? Did he visit a dentist and have a tooth out?’

  ‘Not as far as I know. But all my gentlemen have a key and they come and go as they please.’

  ‘Well Mrs Eves, I think you may have some very valuable information, and I suggest you take it to the police at once.’

  ‘Are you sure?’

  ‘I am, and you may even find there is a reward involved.’

  Mrs Eves cheered up at the prospect of money, as people usually did. ‘All right, I’ll go and tell them now.’

  ‘Well,’ said Frances when the visitor had gone, ‘what can we make of that? On the 3rd of October the limping man did not have a bag. Mr Antrobus went to Bristol on the 8th with his bag and returned carrying it on the 13th. After that the limping man was seen with a new bag and a ring.’

  ‘If he was the man Mr Antrobus was with in Bristol, he must have killed him and taken his bag and ring,’ said Sarah.

  ‘Or he could have been Mr Antrobus all along,’ suggested Frances. ‘Supposing he wanted to disappear and rented the lodgings as a hiding place until he could get away? Then he went to Bristol as himself, met up with the limping man, killed him and then masqueraded as him to throw people off the scent?’

  ‘Hmm.’ Sarah looked dubious. ‘I can see why he would have kept the bag, as that didn’t have any initials on it, but what about the ring?’

  ‘Perhaps he couldn’t take it off. Mrs Antrobus said it had been getting very tight.’

  ‘If he couldn’t take it off himself then a thief wouldn’t have been able to take it off either, unless he cut it off.’ Sarah made a gesture like a pair of scissors. ‘Did the skeleton in Queens Road have all its finger bones?’

  ‘I’m not sure. There were small bones missing. It would be very unpleasant to steal a ring in that way, but I suppose a desperate man might have done it.’ Frances wondered what the world had come to when she and Sarah could sit and talk calmly about peopl
e’s fingers being cut off.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  The vigilance of Tom Smith and the pawnbroker finally bore fruit several days later, and Tom arrived at Frances’ apartments in a state of breathless excitement. ‘We’ve got the woman who pawned the ring!’ he announced. ‘I was keeping my eye on things up Portobello Road an’ Dunnock was watching the pawnshop when Mr Taylorson come out and said somethin’ to a poor woman what was lookin’ in the window, and ’e must have offered her a good price for somethin’ because she went in very eager like, an’ then next moment, out come ’is assistant, runnin’ as ’ard as ’e could, like Old Scratch isself was arter ’im, to get a constable, only I c’n run quicker, an’ I arst ’im an ’e said it was the woman ’oo pawned the ring, so I tole Dunnock to watch the shop an’ foller the woman ’ome if she went out, and then I went and tole Mr Antrobus an’ I come straight ’ere.’

  ‘Well done!’ said Frances. ‘Is Dunnock a new man?’

  ‘’E is, an’ a good ’un. ‘Is father’s bin in prison lots so ’e really knows all the tricks.’

  It was an unusual recommendation, but it clearly impressed Tom.

  ‘Where’s Sarah?’ Tom looked about him as she usually had some baked treat on hand.

  ‘She is teaching the ladies of Bayswater how to make their husbands more respectful.’ Sarah had thoughtfully arranged the ladies’ classes to take place during those hours when their menfolk were out and older children at school. Those with infants took it in turns to mind each other’s to allow busy mothers to benefit from classes too. Frances had not so far dared to attend the classes although she had several times taken Sarah’s advice and gone out for a brisk walk, which had been very beneficial.

  ‘There’ll be blood and guts before the day’s out then,’ said Tom with a grin. ‘You’ll be wantin’ to go up to the station? I got a cab waitin’ outside.’

  Frances threw on a light wrap and a bonnet, and handed him a shilling.

  She arrived at Paddington Green before the prisoner, and when she explained to the sergeant why she had come he sent a constable to go and fetch Inspector Sharrock. ‘I suppose there’s no point in my telling you to go home now you’ve carried the message?’

  ‘None at all.’

  ‘I’ve half a mind to put you in the cells,’ he grumbled.

  ‘On what pretext?’

  ‘I’ve a list of them if you want to see it. There’s women serving life done less than you get away with.’

  Sharrock bustled in. ‘Oh, it’s you is it, setting the world to rights again, I see.’

  ‘Only Bayswater,’ said Frances with a smile. ‘Tell me, did you receive a visit from a Mrs Eves?’

  ‘I did indeed, about the limping man. I’m not so sure about her. We showed her the ring and she thinks it’s the same one, but who’s to know after all that time? There’s another old wife in Redan Place who swears there was a man with a limp and a bad case of toothache lodging with her, only there was no ring and no fancy bag, and he was dressed rough like a man down on his luck.’

  ‘Was this before Mrs Eves’ lodger arrived or after?’

  ‘Before.’

  Frances thought of the transformation a change of costume could bring. ‘It could have been the same man.’

  A carriage drew up outside and discharged Lionel Antrobus, a police constable, Mr Taylorson the pawnbroker and a sullen-looking woman.

  ‘Now this might prove interesting,’ said Sharrock, rubbing his hands together. ‘And before you even try it, Miss Doughty, this time I want to speak to our visitors myself without you poking your nose in.’

  The woman was hurried protesting into the cells to consider her position while Sharrock beckoned Mr Taylorson into his room and shut the door.

  There was a wooden bench and Frances sat on it. After a moment’s hesitation, Lionel Antrobus availed himself of it too.

  There was a long silence. ‘I believe,’ he said at last, ‘that due to the present troubled circumstances I failed to adequately thank you for your assistance to my daughter-in-law.’

  ‘Really, no thanks are necessary,’ replied Frances. ‘I hope she is well?’

  ‘She is, and she adheres to your sound advice.’

  ‘I am happy to hear it.’

  There was another long silence.

  ‘Are you intending to remain here to learn how the ring came to be in the pawnshop?’ he asked.

  ‘I shall not leave until I do. What is the name of the woman you brought here? Did she say anything?’

  ‘Mrs Unwin, and she said only that she had done nothing wrong. I assume that is usual under such circumstances.’

  ‘Almost invariably.’

  ‘She is a charwoman and goes to many houses to do her work. I imagine that she stole the ring.’ There was another brief silence. ‘Have you learned any more about the man seen at Bristol railway station with my brother? Are you quite sure he was not Mr Luckhurst?’

  ‘Yes, he has an alibi. There are two landladies who provided lodgings in Bayswater to a limping man at the time of your brother’s disappearance. The police are looking into it.’

  ‘So I have been informed. I was told he gave the name John Roberts. Probably false.’

  Frances stole a glance at him and thought that behind the stony expression there was sadness and strain. He was not after all unfeeling, but his emotions were so securely locked away as to be unreachable. ‘One question I have been asking everyone concerns your brother’s state of mind and health at the time he disappeared. Mr Luckhurst told me the circumstances of Mr Charles Henderson’s death and I have read the report of the inquest. He said that your brother was greatly affected by it, and though it was many years ago that sorrow remained.’

  ‘I believe that to be true. Edwin never said it in so many words, but he felt a certain guilt about his uncle’s death. Perhaps he thought that with the right words at the right time he might have prevented it.’

  ‘Do you believe it was an accident?’

  ‘Yes. Carelessness with a gun. Surprising how many men suffering from headaches are careless with guns.’

  The door of Inspector Sharrock’s office opened and he emerged, shaking hands with Mr Taylorson. Once the pawnbroker had departed Sharrock ordered a constable to fetch the charwoman from the cells. ‘You’ll be pleased to know that Mr Taylorson is in no doubt that the woman we have in custody is the one who pawned the ring.’

  Lionel Antrobus rose. ‘The ring is part of my brother’s estate of which I have guardianship. If it has been stolen then it was stolen from me. I am prepared not to press charges against the prisoner if she will reveal where she obtained it.’

  ‘I shall bear that in mind,’ replied Sharrock. He paused. ‘You have nothing to say, Miss Doughty?’

  ‘Not at present.’

  ‘Then there really is a first time for everything.’ The woman was brought from the cells, a constable gripping her firmly by the arm. Sharrock waved them to the dingy side room where he preferred to interview some of the more malodorous prisoners, and hurried in after them.

  It took him fifteen minutes to get the information he wanted. The woman was snivelling as she was taken back to the cells.

  ‘Well?’ demanded Antrobus. Sharrock beckoned them both into his office.

  ‘Here’s a pretty thing. Woman says she found it at one of the places where she cleans and carries coal. Strangely enough it’s a place Miss Doughty might have come across recently. The Bayswater School for the Deaf.’

  Both Frances and Lionel Antrobus were suitably astonished.

  ‘Whereabouts in the school?’ asked Frances.

  ‘In the coal cellar. Now then Mr Antrobus, might I ask if your brother ever had occasion to visit the school?’

  ‘None at all, so far as I am aware.’

  ‘Perhaps Mr Antrobus went to the school for a meeting with Dr Goodwin?’

  ‘It is possible, I suppose. But even if he did, that doesn’t explain how his ring, the ring he was unable to remove from
his finger, was in the cellar. Was there anything else suspicious found there?’

  ‘I’ve sent two constables to look into that. But the woman swears blind she saw nothing unusual during the four months she has been working there. No dead bodies, no skeletons, nothing.’

  ‘Skeletons!’ exclaimed Frances, suddenly.

  The two men looked at her. ‘I have had an idea, but – oh dear! It must mean – of course! The Milan conference! It all started with that.’

  ‘Now I don’t pretend to understand what goes on in your head, Miss Doughty,’ sighed Sharrock, ‘all I know is it causes a lot of upset and work, and usually someone ends up in prison. They hanged one only last week, all down to you.’

  ‘Then we must mind our manners,’ said Antrobus. He rose. ‘I will leave you to your enquiries Inspector. Miss Doughty, if you are not too preoccupied in arranging another hanging I will see you safely home.’

  ‘I will go part of the way – I need to call at Pembridge Villas.’

  ‘There’s another poor criminal for it, I can tell,’ cried Sharrock. ‘Send him along here when you’re done.’

  Antrobus frowned. ‘This is too dangerous a trade for a woman.’

  The Inspector gave a short bark of a laugh. ‘Don’t argue with her, I’ve tried, it’s a fool’s game.’

  ‘Where is your servant? Can she not go with you?’ Antrobus suggested. ‘I’ll warrant she is the equal of any male.’

  Frances smiled. ‘Sarah is my assistant and she is teaching classes in ladies’ calisthenics at Professor Pounder’s academy.’

  Sharrock rolled his eyes. ‘Well that’s very peculiar, I must say. I wouldn’t let my wife do anything like that. She does normal, respectable things at this time of day, like taking the children to see her sister.’

  Frances decided it was time to make a very quick departure. She was just out of the door when she heard Sharrock utter a loud roar.

  ‘Who are you going to see?’ demanded Antrobus, as if it was some business of his. He hailed a cab and they boarded it.