The inquest on the unknown man was convened in the first-floor dining room of the Duke of Sussex Tavern, an event which required that the tables should be moved aside, one remaining for the use of the West Middlesex coroner, Dr Diplock, while the chairs were arranged in rows for the jury and observers. Frances and Sarah both attended, and Sarah took the opportunity to familiarise herself with the layout of the premises before they took their seats.
Since the body had not yet been identified, Frances would have expected little more than the amount of interest usually generated by the finding of a corpse in an outhouse, such occurrences not being altogether unknown in the winter months, although she suspected that they were rarer in Kensington than other parts of London. To her surprise, however, the room filled rapidly, and many of the onlookers were members of the press, representatives of the Paddington and Kensington newspapers, some of whom Frances had encountered on other similar occasions. It was obvious that the rumour had quickly spread that the corpse might be that of the missing philanthropist, and even if it was not, a body half eaten by rats always sold newspapers.
Mr Fiske and Mr Neilson were there, and a number of other gentlemen whom Frances had not previously met, who she suspected must be members of either the Literati or Mulberry Lodges, or representatives of the Dobree family. She studied the faces of the gentlemen, wondering if one of them might be Vernon Salter, the man she believed to be her natural father. Would she recognise him, she wondered, or he her? Since Frances did not resemble William Doughty, she had until her recent discoveries assumed, in the absence of any portrait of Rosetta, that she looked like her mother. Frances was unusually tall, taller than either William or her older brother Frederick who had died in 1879. It had been her uncle, Cornelius Martin, Rosetta’s brother, who had finally told Frances that she did not look like her mother, but that Rosetta had once been seen in conversation with a very tall man of distinctive appearance. Frances, with her angular jaw and sharp-featured face, knew what he must mean. She looked about her but saw no man present to whom she might bear even a passing resemblance. She was obliged to admit to herself that this was a relief. She knew she might have to face him, but felt far from ready for that encounter.
The jurymen filed in, fresh from viewing the body. Several looked pale and the features of one were unhealthily shiny, and a little green. If the exposed flesh of the corpse had been chewed by rats it could not have been a pleasant sight. They were accompanied into the room by a slight odour of brandy, which suggested that some medical restorative had been necessary. Even Dr Diplock, as he took his seat and placed a folder of papers on the table, was tucking a cigar case into his pocket.
Inspector Payne arrived, and after a quick look about the room to see who was present he slumped into a chair, studying the pages of his notebook. He did not give Frances a second glance. Sarah, who had not seen the policeman before, looked briefly at Frances. She said nothing, but her face revealed her thoughts. Sarah habitually warned Frances against closer acquaintance with any single man of even halfway reasonable appearance and vaguely marriageable age. It was her decided opinion that no man could ever be worthy of her companion, but in the unlikely event of Frances meeting someone she considered suitable, she was prepared to inform her of the fact. In the case of Payne, however, no warning was necessary. After the Bayswater Face-slasher case it had been clear to her that Frances was avoiding any but formal relations with men. The only exception to this rule was her dear friend and close neighbour, the flamboyant Cedric Garton, a gentleman of refinement with a taste for poetry and the fine arts, who was both intelligent and amusing company and a confirmed bachelor.
When Dr Diplock had reviewed his papers, he called the court to order and opened the proceedings by stating that the purpose of the hearing was firstly to establish the identity of the deceased and second to arrive at cause of death. If it was not possible to conclude business that day, and he believed that that might well be the case, then it would be necessary to adjourn to allow time for further enquiries.
The first witness called was Mr Fiske, who, struggling to control his nervousness, explained to the astonished onlookers the circumstances under which he had come to be at 2 Linfield Gardens where the body was found. His account naturally mentioned the inexplicable disappearance of Lancelot Dobree and his decision to call upon the services of a private detective. Several gentlemen turned and stared openly at Frances and Sarah, and the men of the press scribbled busily. Inspector Payne then told the court in strict official language how he had been called to the scene, and after establishing that there had been an unexplained death had proceeded to seal the property pending the arrival of Dr Northrop, the police surgeon.
Dr Northrop, the next to testify, had the air of a man who had seen worse corpses too many times to mention. He confirmed that the body was that of a well-nourished male who he estimated to be between sixty-five and seventy-five years of age, although the hands and face were considerably damaged by the action of rats. He believed that death had taken place between one and three days previously, but a factor that complicated his estimate was that he was far from sure that the man had died where the body was found. There was nothing on the body to identify it, and much of the clothing had been gnawed by vermin. The quality of the remaining linen and suiting suggested that they had been purchased by a man of some means, although it was impossible to say if the dead man was the original owner. His preliminary examination showed that the man had been in very good health for someone of advanced years. The only thing discovered so far that could account for death was an injury to the head, which might have been caused either by a fall or a blow. He would know more when he had had the chance to make a detailed post-mortem examination. There were no obvious identifying marks on the body, however he had noticed that the deceased had a slight club foot, a defect he must have carried with him since birth, and his shoes had been specially made to correct this.
Northrop returned to his seat and the coroner next questioned Mr Unwin, Lancelot Dobree’s personal shoemaker. Unwin identified the shoes found on the body as those he had made for Dobree, and brought with him the last on which they had been formed. He had examined the feet of the corpse and had no doubt whatsoever that the body was that of his customer.
The next witness was a man of about forty-five with a manner of carefully studied calm, who gave his name as Thomas Jeffs and said that he had been manservant to Lancelot Dobree for eighteen years. Whatever his feelings about his master, either alive or dead, these were so carefully hidden as to be indiscernible. He had viewed the body found in the fuel store and had no doubt at all that it was that of his master. He confirmed that Dobree had a slight deformity of one foot, something few of his intimates would have known.
There were no more witnesses and Dr Diplock asked Dr Northrop how soon he might be able to complete his report. There was a clear implication in the coroner’s tone that since the evidence was tending to suggest that the body was quite probably that of the noted philanthropist and not a homeless vagrant, it would be advisable to accelerate the proceedings. Dr Northrop quickly took the point and replied that in view of the importance of the case he would give the matter priority and felt sure that he would come to a firm conclusion in three days.
Dr Diplock addressed the jury. While it was not yet possible to arrive at a cause of death, would they be willing to deliver a verdict as to the identity of the body? Offered the option of retiring to consider their decision, the jurymen did not trouble themselves to do so. There was a brief whispered conversation and much nodding before the spokesman rose and announced that they were content to identify the deceased as Lancelot Dobree. Dr Diplock then adjourned the hearing for three days, adding that in view of the immense public interest the resumed inquest would inevitably attract, the next hearing would take place in Kensington Town Hall.
Several of the pressmen hurried away, burning with the news, but a number of the younger ones hovered hopefully around Frances. ‘I have nothing to say,’ she insisted and Sarah quickly interposed her bulk, folding her brawny arms and making it known by her expression that she would not tolerate any annoyance.
Payne rose smartly from his chair and approached the gathering. ‘Now then, clear off quick or there’ll be trouble!’
‘We have to get the story, Inspector,’ whined one of the youths.
‘There’s no story here – move on!’
They slunk away and Frances was intending to thank the Inspector but he had already turned and left.
Another gentleman was present. He had a quiet, businesslike manner, and carried a leather document case. He did not approach Frances, but looked at her with interest before he departed.
Mr Fiske and his brethren remained behind, consulting with each other, their faces heavy with grief. Frances went to sit with them. ‘I am so sorry that you have had bad news.’
‘I can hardly believe it,’ said Fiske, dejectedly. ‘I had hoped it was another man, of course. We all did.’
‘Did you know about Mr Dobree’s club foot?’
Fiske shook his head. ‘There was no sign of it in his walk.’
‘Well, let us hope that when the final report is available you will know more.’
‘Will you be attending the resumed inquest?’
Frances had half expected this question. ‘I was only engaged to find Mr Dobree. Since he has been found, there is no good reason for me to do so.’
‘Could I ask you to attend on our behalf?’ pleaded Fiske. ‘You have more experience than we do of these unfortunate occasions, and we would like to have your observations.’
Frances hesitated. ‘Very well. I will watch and let you know my thoughts, but you know my position. If the cause of Mr Dobree’s death is an accident, then there is nothing for me to do. If there has been a crime committed, then there is nothing I should do.’
‘I understand,’ said Fiske. ‘The past has taught you to be cautious, but all the same I would welcome your advice even if you cannot take matters further.’
‘It looks a lot like murder,’ said Sarah in the cab home.
‘It does,’ Frances agreed. ‘Of course his death might have nothing to do with why he left the tavern. He could have gone out for a reason we have yet to discover and been attacked by robbers in the street. He might have been injured in a fall and then robbed by someone who chanced by. But now we know the body is his we have more mysteries. Dr Northrop believes that Dobree did not die where he was found. Even if we can find out how he left the tavern, how did he manage to get into the yard of the house? He appears to have had an extraordinary ability to move through locked doors. And while I can understand that robbers might have taken his jewellery, money and even the regalia, which I assume must have a value, they had also removed other non-valuable items which could have identified the body.’
‘A robber would just have taken stuff and run off,’ said Sarah. ‘Why risk being caught by taking time to hide the body?’
‘The only reason I can think of is to prevent or delay recognition. Which suggests that whoever hid the body knew who he was. Perhaps it wasn’t a random attack after all; perhaps Mr Dobree was targeted for murder.’