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.’