Beginning, Next Section
Part 1
"I must go to Longbourn," said Elizabeth Darcy to her husband. "I feel an obligation towards my father."
"I do not want to come."
"Do not be so hard!" she exclaimed with tears in her eyes. "I wish you would accompany me."
Darcy could not stand tears. "Please, Elizabeth. What good could I do there? Can I not let your family mourn in private?" He knew he would only be in the way.
"Do it for me."
"I have no wish to encounter the likes of, let us say, Wickham."
"You do not even know that he will be there!" she protested.
"I know him. He will be there. He will be too curious to see if he was left anything in your father's will." But he was resigned to going. He would just avoid Wickham, if he could, and all the other obnoxious family members too.
"My father died," said Lydia Wickham to her husband. "Let us go and see if he left us something!"
"I did not know that he had anything to leave."
"Well, we will never know if we do not go and find out! Besides, I should like to see Mama again to show her my new gown."
Wickham sighed. He did not approve of the idea at all. Unlike Lydia, he knew he was not the Bennets' favourite brother-in-law. The chances of meeting Darcy at Longbourn were too great for him to enjoy a trip to Hertfordshire, but Lydia was bent on going, and he knew her too well to think that she would drop the matter.
"Mr. Bennet has died," Mr. Collins said with unveiled enthusiasm. "My dear Charlotte, are you not happy?"
Charlotte smiled politely, but she grieved for her friend. Elizabeth would be terribly sad. And besides, Mr. Collins's vulture-like reaction was terribly improper.
Her husband jumped up energetically and upset his breakfast. "I must go and tell Lady Catherine at once that we are to depart for Longbourn. Think of it! I shall be master of Longbourn."
Charlotte did not doubt that Mr. Collins would take possession of the house as soon as possible and he would take delight in rubbing his new status in firmly with Mrs. Bennet and the remaining Bennet girls. She foresaw many conflicts. It could not go well.
Bingley and Jane were sad in their own modest way. "What shall happen to your mother and sisters?" Bingley asked his wife.
Miss Bingley looked up with a start. She hoped that her brother would not be so stupid as to invite the Bennets to come and live with them. If that happened, she was on the next mail coach to London. That was how bad it was. She was even prepared to get on a mail coach.
"I do not know how my father has provided for them," Jane sniffed.
"Do not worry. They shall be provided for," Bingley said reassuringly.
Mrs. Bennet was felled by nerves, and Mary, Kitty and Mrs. Philips were seeing to her while Mr. Philips was seeing to the preparations for the funeral and the reading of the will. That event was to take place when all the family members had returned home.
"Oh! And that dreadful man will be here to turn us all out of the house!" Mrs. Bennet lamented. "Where are my smelling salts?"
"Hill?" Kitty called.
"They do not work on your mother anymore, Miss Kitty."
"Argh!" Kitty cried. "Mary, will you take over?"
"Must I?" Mary said reluctantly. "Mama, you cannot alter anything about the entail. We must all accept our fate. There are some things in life --"
"Oh!" Mrs. Bennet cried. "I shall not put up with them in my house! Let them stay with the Lucases."
"It is his house now, Mama. He has every right to stay here."
"But I shall not free a room for him! He can stay in the barn!"
"Mama..."
"Stop whining, Mary. Have some compassion for my nerves, girl."
Mary and Kitty left the room. "I hate that man," Kitty said fiercely. "I hope he dies."
Mary thought Kitty was very outspoken, but she could not help thinking what would happen if Mr. Collins was to die. Who would inherit then? She would ask her friend Mr. Mason, who worked for her uncle Philips.
Meanwhile, Mr. Philips had sorted out everything with regard to the entailed property and the girls' money, but he had a small problem. There were two wills.
A lady in London, commonly known as Polly, heard the sad news in Mr. Gardiner's warehouse, where she overheard Mr. Gardiner tell an acquaintance. She became thoughtful and left without purchasing anything. This was a great chance to come into some money.
Another lady, known as Mrs. Nebbet and residing in a town near Meryton with her son, read of Mr. Bennet's demise in the local newspaper. She immediately started thinking. It would not be impossible that he had left her something, after all, he could not have forgotten her, could he?
Part 2
Mr. Collins made his appearance and offended the Bennets deeply by immediately and inconsiderately taking possession of the master bedroom. Charlotte tried to speak to him privately, but he would not listen. She could not oppose her husband in public, but she hoped the Bennets would understand that she did not hold the same views as her husband. His person had been annoying her far longer, but irritation and mild dislike were fast turning into hatred and disgust, and due to the shortage of beds in the house, she was even forced to share a room with him. This was the only reason why she wished the Bennets would soon leave Longbourn -- because they would vacate bedchambers.
Mrs. Bennet was incredibly rude to them and remarkably affectionate towards Wickham, much to Mary's and Kitty's disgust. Mrs. Bennet gave all her kindness to those who were kind to her, sincere or not. The Darcys were merely greeted with respectful civility, and Wickham revelled in Mrs. Bennet's graces. He could not resist to let everybody know he was her particular favourite and he made himself even more universally disliked, except with Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Philips.
Finally, the reading of the will was to take place and Mr. Philips and his clerk very officially arranged the furniture in the library for the purpose. They were to read the second will, for Mr. Philips had discovered that one had been drawn up later than the other. Apparently Mr. Bennet had changed his mind about something.
Wickham had good hopes, for he had always thought Mr. Bennet to be favourably inclined towards him, and if that was not the case, he had his eye on another goldmine. A very pretty one.
Darcy and Bingley were principally concerned about the provisions for the widow and the younger sisters. Together they had already agreed that they would be more likely to spend money on a house than to take in Mrs. Bennet.
Mr. Collins was counting on a handsome sum of money to complement the property, and he was imagining himself being condescending to the peasants in the area.
Miss Bingley, who really had no business there, but who had not wanted to stay at Netherfield all alone, hoped that Mr. Bennet had not left his family destitute. She eyed Wickham with disgust, after someone had indecently touched her when she was entering the library. She had turned around immediately, but she had not been able to discover the guilty party, although it could not be anyone other than Wickham.
Lydia had seen it, and considering Wickham's many other escapades, it did not exactly fill her heart with love. On the contrary. She had begun to feel Wickham was an adulterous cad and a dreadful burden who spent all their money by himself.
The will did not turn out to be surprising, though it disappointed Wickham that he had not been left anything. He would now have to find another way to get money, for he was severely in debt. He had a talent for swindling rich ladies and he looked at Miss Bingley with interest. It was a pity she was not staying at Longbourn, but the advantage was that she had no husband to come after him, and he could take on that puppy Bingley, if necessary. He had already laid the foundations for his seduction. He had encountered her a few times in the woods and he had given her some very seductive looks and smiles, that unbeknownst to him, had only chilled her to the bone instead of fascinated her.
Mrs. Bennet had not been left a house and she now depended on her small income or Mr. Collins's generosity to find a new home. This was understandably not to her liking and she complained loudly. "How cruel of Mr. Bennet not to provide anything for us. Mr. Collins is not the sort of man to do something for us, I told Mr. Bennet time and time again! I said that man would turn us out of the house with a wicked smile. Jane! Did I not? He has no compassion. No compassion! My nerves! Jane? Oh! Where shall we live? We are homeless! And he does not care for his own relatives! What shall we do? Oh! That man! To leave us with so little money and no son! We shall be forced to beg! My brother Philips shall see us sitting under his window!"
This was the main topic for everyone that evening. Mrs. Bennet and her loyal subjects purposely avoided Longbourn's drawing room and the only two people there were Mr. and Mrs. Collins.
"The least you can do for your cousins is to provide them with a house," Charlotte said.
"My dear Charlotte," Mr. Collins began in his most patronising voice. "Ladies' sensibilities are generally not suited to such matters. I shall discuss it with the attorney."
"But Mr. Collins --"
"Charlotte, Lady Catherine has impressed upon me the importance of being benevolent as a sign of good breeding. Mrs. Bennet shall receive what she deserves."
At Netherfield it was discussed likewise. Miss Bingley had attempted to interest Bingley in her fear of Wickham, but he had shrugged it off. "I am sure it was not intended that way. We have important things to discuss now, Caroline."
"But Charles, he touched me!" she blushed.
"I am sure it was an accident. Everybody was pushing each other to get a good seat. Now, I must go and talk to Darcy about Mrs. Bennet and the girls."
"Charles, please do not have them stay here. I shall leave if you do that."
"Caroline, do not be so selfish. They have lost their father and husband."
Miss Bingley pouted and ignored the others for the rest of the evening. She recalled that morning when she had encountered Wickham in the park. What he was doing so far away from Longbourn was a mystery. He had given her a chilling smile and he had stood there watching her.
"Are you afraid of me, beauty?" he had asked with a leering grin. "You will come round." And he had told her exactly what he would do to her if she did not give him money. "And you may depend upon it that I shall find you to take what is mine, even if you will be so stupid as to tell someone. Think of your reputation, sweetheart. I can and I shall ruin it with a few well-chosen words."
She had run. Away from him, but she was still afraid now. She was not going to pay. Never.
Miss Bingley stayed at Netherfield the next morning because she did not want to meet Wickham, while the Bingleys and the Darcys went to Longbourn to listen to more complaints and wails from Mrs. Bennet. Mr. Collins had gone to Meryton and Wickham had gone for a walk, Mary was in the library sorting out which books were unworthy enough to leave behind, but the rest of them were in and out of Mrs. Bennet's dressing room, for no one could stand it for a long time.
At dinner, Wickham was missing, but Mr. Collins had returned with a story about someone contesting the will, and Wickham's absence was not noted, except by Lydia, but she did not care. He frequently stayed away and she had given up addressing him on the subject. He was probably gambling or visiting Miss Bingley, for she had seen him give her a leering smile, and those smiles usually led to more.
Part 3
"The presumptuousness!" said Mr. Collins. "Of such a woman to contest the will! I shall inform Lady Catherine about it forthwith."
"Pray, what can Lady Catherine do?" Elizabeth asked tetchily.
"Why did the woman contest the will?" Darcy asked curiously. "And who was she?"
"I did not remember her name, naturally," said Mr. Collins, who sat up straighter now that he had gained everyone's attention. "It cannot be of any importance. But I wonder at her nerve! To presume to...to..."
"Did she want her share of Mr. Bennet's fortune?" Darcy knew that fortune was not the right word, but he could not think of anything else.
"Yes!" Mr. Collins replied in a highly indignant and offended manner. "She claimed that the will was false and that Mr. Bennet had personally assured her that she was to be remembered in his will, and her son especially."
The whole table looked puzzled as they tried to figure out who the woman was. "Was she a former servant?" Darcy asked.
"That is what I said to her," Mr. Collins replied. "Madam, you cannot expect every master to remember their former servants in their wills. It is highly presumptuous. But then!" he paused for a dramatic effect. "She denied ever having been in service at Longbourn."
"All our servants are still with us!" cried Mrs. Bennet, who saw defection of a servant as a personal insult. "We treat them well!"
"Indeed, Madam," said Jane. "But who can the woman be?"
"I declare she is nothing but a scheming fortune hunter of ill repute," said Mr. Collins. "And her claims are unfounded and will not be honoured." After delivering this statement, he delved into his food and let Mrs. Bennet vent her speculations to the rest of the party.
"I shall visit the attorney tomorrow," Darcy whispered to his wife. "To be correctly informed about this whole business."
The day after brought more commotion. A short while before breakfast a visitor was announced and this created a great deal of confusion, for Hill informed Mrs. Bennet of it, and Mr. Collins was offended. "I am the Master of the house, Hill," he said with an imperious air.
"The man wishes to see Mrs. Bennet, sir," Hill curtsied with a venomous look. Despite Mrs. Bennet's nerves, she much preferred her mistress to this man.
"Nevertheless, I demand that I be informed about any visitors first."
Mrs. Bennet was ready to engage into a dispute with 'that odious man,' but Kitty warned her off it and she limited herself to pressing her hand against her heart and looking extremely vexed.
Someone who Mr. Collins would describe as a peasant was shown in and he stood there nervously clutching his hat while the whole room gaped in curiosity at the man who had come to see Mrs. Bennet. He looked like a forester and he probably was one, too. "Madam," he began. "I have come as quickly as possible. My mate and I decided that we should tell you straight away. We found a body, like. In the woods, Madam."
"A body?" Mrs. Bennet shrieked. "Whose body?"
"The body of a gentleman staying here, Madam. That's why I came."
"Wickham!" Mrs. Bennet shrieked again. Wickham was indeed absent, but everybody but Lydia had presumed him to be still in bed. "And was the body dead, man?"
The forest labourer looked at her oddly. "Yes, Madam." He would not have come to inform her of a live body lying in the woods. Whatever live bodies did in his woods was wholly their concern and it was not his nature to pry into such matters, but dead bodies were completely different. They would not be able to remove themselves after their actions.
"Hill!" Mrs. Bennet cried when she felt a fit of nerves coming on. "Oh, my poor Lydia!"
Strangely enough, Mrs. Bennet was more affected than Mrs. Wickham. Lydia took the news with composure, even though everybody stared at her. She did not betray any feelings whatsoever.
Immediately a messenger was dispatched to Netherfield, because Mrs. Bennet wished to be surrounded by her whole family in this tragedy. The Bingleys and the Darcys received the news at the breakfast table. Miss Bingley was not yet present, and they left a message for her with the housekeeper when they hastily broke off their meals and departed for Longbourn. Though they secretly rejoiced, they foresaw all the nastiness of an investigation, for they knew perfectly well that many people would have liked to end Wickham's life. The mysterious woman contesting Mr. Bennet's will was forgotten in the rush.
The forest labourer's mate had gone to Meryton to report the crime at a very early hour, and after the authorities had looked into the matter, they decided to call in the military authorities, since Wickham had been a military. They sent a messenger to London to request an investigator, and due to London's relative proximity and the speed of the messenger's horse, the military authorities were on their way shortly after noon.
Part 4
So someone had finally done it, the officer thought to himself as he and his companion rode to Longbourn. According to the direction they had been given, they should be near it now. Suddenly his attention was caught by a bright spot among the green and brown of the trees.
Drury had seen it too. "Looks like a woman, sir."
As they came closer they saw that it was indeed a woman, sitting on a falling tree and eyeing them warily. Her gown was torn in several places and she looked as if she had spent a considerable time in the woods without seeing a mirror. The woman's gown had an expensive cut, so the officer assumed that this was not a usual occurrence for her. Dashing hero in redcoat saves stranded heroine, he thought sarcastically.
For his part, Lieutenant Drury wondered if Colonel Coolness would act heroically and save the wood nymph from wild boars. The Colonel -- his imperturbability and cool, detached manner during investigations had earned him his nickname -- was not one to be swayed by torn gowns and pretty faces, but Lt. Drury was determined to tempt fate for him and have Colonel Coolness transport the lady, if only to tell their fellow officers about it and have a good laugh.
"May we be of assistance, Madam?" the Colonel asked of the lady, who looked as if she would run if she were not too fatigued to do so. "Are you lost?"
"No, I am sitting here because I enjoy it," she spat out.
"Drury?" the Colonel asked, meaning that Drury had to take care of her.
"No, sir. My horse does not carry two people," Drury lied.
"Will you accept a ride, Madam?" asked the Colonel with perfect politeness in his voice, as if had not a minute before tried to force her upon Drury. The lady nodded, for she did not feel like staying there, and he hoisted her up so she could ride side-saddle in front of him. "Are you comfortable?"
"No at all," she complained. "I am going to fall."
"You may hold on to me for support," Colonel Fitzwilliam offered, and Drury almost fell off his horse.
"Thank you, but I had rather not," said the lady cattily, but she grabbed him around the waist anyway when he spurred his horse on.
He thought to himself that it was not a bad way to start out a murder enquiry. It was a pity that Lt. Drury was with him. Otherwise he would almost have felt like a romantic hero. "Which way shall we take you, Madam?"
"I do not know where I am, so I cannot tell you which direction I wish to go in."
"How came your gown to be so torn?" Careful! You are not investigating the case of the lady in the woods, he chided himself for his curiosity. He refrained from asking further questions when she did not reply.
"I know my way from here," she said after they had ridden for a while. "Please stop."
Through the trees he could see a building in the distance. "As you wish, Madam," said the Colonel and stopped his horse to let her off. She made a perfect curtsey and he tipped his hat.
"Did she explain anything, sir?" Drury asked when they had ridden on. Perhaps she had had a whispered conversation with the Colonel.
"Nothing at all."
"Odd."
"Indeed. We have a dead woman chaser in the woods and a lady with a torn gown," the Colonel mused. "Tell me, did the gown looks as if it had been ripped by a human hand?"
Drury rolled his eyes. Trust Colonel Coolness to speculate on the origin of the tears rather than what could be seen underneath. He probably has not even looked at that, amazing man. "I did not pay attention to that, sir."
"Drury! What sort of investigator are you?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked in dismay.
"A human one, Colonel," Drury muttered. "And sir, may I point out that the body was found early this morning? And apparently killed yesterday? Why would the lady still be here?"
"She was lost."
"If she had walked a mile more, she would have come to the point where we left her. It is odd. And no search party was formed yesterday when she did not return? She was obviously a well brought up lady. It amazes me that she was not missed, if she indeed spent all night in the woods. With all respect, sir, but it does not sound right."
"Perhaps we should have asked the lady's name."
A short while later they arrived at Longbourn, where they were greeted by Mrs. Hill. They did not stay there, but accompanied the forester to the body. Drury was ordered to have the body removed and examined, while the Colonel looked around himself. He marked the location on his map and studied its distance from Longbourn. He figured out that they had dropped the mysterious lady off near Meryton, and that they had actually found her not far from here. He considered all the facts and found that so far he had very little to go on. Wickham had been found stabbed to death near Longbourn. The murder weapon was nowhere to be found and had probably been thrown away somewhere. Unless they came upon it by chance, it would in all likeliness not be discovered. Knowing Wickham, the number of suspects would be infinite, but the Colonel loved a good puzzle.
While Drury saw to the body, he walked back to Longbourn. He had questioned the forester, but the man had not been able to tell him anything other than the time he had found the body. The fact that there had been dew on Wickham, indicated that he had been killed before dawn, and probably the preceding day.
He established himself in the breakfast room and demanded to see everybody one by one, starting with the widow. He had only seen Mrs. Hill so far, and she promised to send him Mrs. Wickham. To his great surprise the first to appear was Mr. Collins. "I said I wanted to speak to Mrs. Wickham," Colonel Fitzwilliam said coldly.
"Colonel," Mr. Collins bowed profusely. "Considering my near acquaintance with your most respected aunt Lady Catherine De Bourgh, it seemed to me no more than proper that I, as the new master of Longbourn House, should converse with you first."
"No sir. Please send me Mrs. Wickham and consider me unrelated to anybody you know."
Collins looked alarmed and assumed his humble attitude immediately. He decided to listen to the Colonel, lest he should inform Lady Catherine, and damage their good relationship.
Lydia appeared several minutes later.
"My sympathies, Mrs. Wickham," the Colonel bowed.
"Oh," she said indifferently. "Thank you. That odious man insisted on going first while all of us tried to tell him that I as the widow have the first rights to speak to you, but he would not listen. He is such a toad! What did you have to ask me? Were you not at my wedding? I have seen you before, I am sure."
"The loss of your husband must be deeply felt," he said, looking at her searchingly for any traces of grief. So far, he had not seen any. He ignored her questions. He had indeed been present at her wedding, together with Darcy, and she had not changed a bit, except that her infatuation with Wickham seemed to have worn off.
"Not terribly, Colonel," she smiled.
"I wish you all the best, nevertheless. Have you got any children?"
"Yes, one. I did not bring her here, of course."
"Am I to understand that you were not very attached to your husband, Mrs. Wickham?"
It occurred to Lydia that the role of the grieving widow would perhaps be nice. Look at all the attention Mama is getting! Everyone will want to comfort me. "I was," she said with a sad face. "My poor Wickham. I shall miss him terribly."
Enter the grieving widow. Colonel Fitzwilliam wrote down an observation on Mrs. Wickham's truthfulness. "Can you tell me what you did yesterday?"
"Oh," Lydia screwed up her face. "Let me think. Everyone was in and out of Mama's room. In the evening we had dinner, and after that it was much the same."
He wrote down another observation on her reliability as a witness. "In and out of the room? Where did you go when you were not in it?"
"Uhh..." she shrugged. "in the drawing room, the hall, outside. Just out of it."
"Where was Mr. Wickham during all of this?"
"He went for a walk at some point and he never returned."
"Where did he go to?"
"Oh Lord. As if I care. He did not like it when I asked, so I did not."
"But were you not worried when he failed to return?" the Colonel raised his eyebrows.
"Nobody else noticed and I did not feel like drawing attention to it," Lydia explained. She leant forwards. "Some people did not like him, you know! I daresay he went out to avoid them. Mr. Darcy in particular."
Fitzwilliam noticed she had not answered his question. "I see. Which time did he leave?"
"Oh Lord. As if I keep an eye on the clock all the time! I cannot tell you that. It was perhaps two o'clock, or perhaps twelve."
Hill had presented him with a list off all the guests and the visitors who were currently in the house, and he looked at it. "Thank you, Mrs. Wickham. That will be all for the moment. Would you please ask Mr. Darcy to come next?"
"Certainly," Lydia smiled. He was a stuffy old bore with his questions, but he was rather handsome and he was a colonel, so he deserved a smile.
Darcy appeared instantly and greeted his cousin. "I had not expected to see you here."
"You must consider me as a stranger," Fitzwilliam said formally.
Darcy looked baffled. "If you insist." He assumed that it had to do with his cousin's official capacity.
"Can you tell me what happened yesterday?"
"We went here shortly after breakfast. Bingley and I mainly sat in the library, but the women were with Mrs. Bennet most of the time. We had tea, dinner and returned home."
"Was everybody here?"
"Who is everybody?"
"Everybody who was staying or living here."
"No, Mr. Collins went to Meryton and returned just before dinner, and Wickham was not present at any time of the day."
"Did anyone else absent himself for any period of time?"
"Yes. Almost everyone went for a short walk. The atmosphere in the house is rather strained."
Considering that Wickham's body had been found at about half a mile from the house, almost everybody would have had the chance to commit the murder. The Colonel made a note to ask Hill whether any kitchen knives were missing. "Did anyone remain in the house for the whole day?"
"Mrs. Bennet? I do not think she left, and she was also the only one who seemed to tolerate Wickham's company. In fact, I even believe she was fond of him."
"He was not well liked?"
"Fitzwilliam!" Darcy protested incredulously. He is taking his role much too far! "You knew the man's character."
"I come to every case with a blank mind," the Colonel replied gravely.
"He was not at all liked."
"Did you like him?"
"Please!" said Darcy. "You know I did not and you know why. If you choose to be obtuse..."
"I do not choose to be obtuse. I am going to need a detailed account of what you did yesterday."
Darcy groaned. "You know me. You know I did not do it. Why do you want to know what I did?"
"Because you are a good observer and it might help me to fill in other people's blanks. Mrs. Wickham's, for instance."
"She is a complete blank," said Darcy. "Nothing to fill in. But alright. We arrived her at around half past eleven --"
"And we are...?" Fitzwilliam interrupted.
"Mrs. Darcy, Bingley, and Mrs. Bingley. In case you need me to specify who they are: we are staying with them at Netherfield."
"Half past eleven. And then?"
"We visited Mrs. Bennet in her room and had tea. At about twelve, Bingley and I escaped to the library, where I sat until I took a walk."
"Were you in Bingley's company the entire time?"
"No, Bingley called on Mrs. Bennet once more, at about half past one, but I did not join him."
"Were you alone after half past one?" the Colonel asked, noting down all the times and actions.
"No, Mary Bennet was also present. She was cataloguing books."
"Did you remain there until dinner?"
"No, I went for a walk around the house at a quarter to three. Forty-three minutes past two, to be precise," Darcy said sarcastically.
"I appreciate your precision," said the Colonel seriously, but with a glint of humour in his eyes.
"By Jove, Fitzwilliam! Will you stop playing games with me?" Darcy asked in exasperation.
"This approach yields the best results, old boy," Colonel Fitzwilliam said cheerfully. "If you did not do it, as you say, why would you object to answering my questions? And after your walk?"
"I went in for tea at three and after tea I returned to the library with Bingley, until dinner, and after dinner we left and I never left the sight of Mrs. Darcy until we fell asleep."
"Was everyone present at tea time?"
"All except Mr. Collins and Wickham."
"Thank you. Please send in..." he studied the list once more. "Miss Mary Bennet." He preferred to link the various statements to one another while they were still fresh in his mind.
Part 5
Colonel Fitzwilliam observed Mary Bennet. Apart from her hair colour, she had nothing else in common with the two sisters he knew. She looked rather dowdy and wore spectacles.
Mary observed the Colonel too. The fact that he was an officer counted against him, but he had an air of seriousness about him that she approved of.
"Miss Bennet, could you tell me what you did yesterday, between breakfast and bedtime?"
"As much as I considered Mr. Wickham to have a depraved character, I do not think that ending a person's life is justified in any situation, Colonel," she said in a moralising tone. "It is best to ignore them to avoid moral corruption."
She should have been a clergyman. "Is that what you did, Miss Bennet?"
"I tend to avoid people who cannot add any value to my life," she said haughtily.
"Was Mr. Wickham one of them?"
"As far as I was concerned, he had nothing to recommend himself."
"Now that we have established your good relationship with the deceased, let us --"
"I beg you pardon, Colonel," Mary said indignantly. "I wish to point out that I did not have a good relationship with the deceased."
"Oh, I am sorry. I mistook you there," he said meekly. And no sense of humour either. "What happened yesterday?"
"My mother was conducting herself most unbecomingly," she said with disapproval. "And most people were catering to her whims. I do not know what they did, for I was in the library the entire time," she said, to make it absolutely clear that she disapproved of hysterics.
"And what were you doing in the library?"
"I was sorting out books that I do not want Mr. Collins to have. My father left me my choice of books."
"Were you alone there?"
Mary frowned and adjusted her spectacles. "I believe Mr. Darcy and Mr. Bingley were there for a while, but I did not really notice them."
"Can you say when they left the room?"
"No, I cannot. I was occupied."
"Did you leave the house yesterday?"
Mary looked puzzled. "Leave the house? Of course not. I hardly ever leave the house, Colonel. Unless I am forced to."
"Where was Mr. Wickham yesterday?"
"I assume he was consoling my mother. He was a great favourite with her."
"Mrs. Wickham said that her husband left after breakfast."
"That is possible," Mary agreed. "I should expect his wife to know more of his whereabouts than his sister."
"Who could have wanted to murder him?"
"I do not count anyone among my acquaintance who is so deficient in morals," said Mary primly.
"Thank you, Miss Bennet," said Colonel Fitzwilliam with a slight rolling of his eyes. "Would you please ask Mr. Bingley to see me?"
Mary departed with a satisfied air. She had made her principles clear.
"Fitzwilliam!" Bingley greeted him and shook his hand. "What a coincidence to see you here."
"Indeed," said Fitzwilliam evenly. Bingley's cheerfulness was quite a change from Mary Bennet's solemn attitude. "What do you think of the whole thing?"
"A disagreeable business. It must have been an accident."
"Why do you think so?" It was just like Bingley not to believe that people could kill other people.
Bingley frowned. "Well...do you mean it was not?"
"It was not an accident."
"Well," said Bingley, looking shocked. "Did somebody dislike him? My sister complained to me about his behaviour towards her, but I do not think --"
"Your sister?" Colonel Fitzwilliam scanned his list. "Is she here? What is her name?"
"Caroline, and no, she is not here. She was not up yet when we left Netherfield, but we left a message with the housekeeper." He suddenly realised that Caroline had not followed them. "She must not have come because she does not like the Bennets."
"What time did you leave?"
"We were having breakfast."
"Does your sister often miss breakfast?" The Colonel found it very interesting that the person with the best motive so far had not been where she should have been.
"No, not often."
"But her absence did not alarm you?"
"She is older than I am," Bingley apologised. "And she would dislike it very much if I played her nanny."
"What did your sister do yesterday?"
Bingley looked perplexed when he discovered that he did not know. "I believe I do not know. She stayed home."
A missing lady? "Does she own a red gown?" If Bingley had not even missed her, he would in all likeliness not know what she had been wearing, and if she had been wearing a red one like the lady in the woods.
"I have no idea. Probably."
"When did you last see her?"
Bingley looked thoughtful. "Yesterday at breakfast."
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked aghast. "Bingley, do you mean your sister went missing the day of Wickham's murder and nobody noticed?"
Bingley swallowed. "Missing?"
"I should call it missing, yes. For all you know, she might have lost her way in the woods yesterday and never come home." The lady in the woods would indeed be of the right age and class to be Bingley's sister.
"Lost in the woods?" a dumbfounded Bingley repeated. He had assumed that Caroline had been somewhere else in the house last night, and this morning he had thought her still asleep.
"What exactly was her complaint about Wickham?"
"She was scared of him. She said he touched her, but I told her it was probably an accident, since we were all pushing one another to get into the library. That must be why she did not come. She did not want to see him."
"You told her that, and that was the end of it?"
Bingley looked sheepish and said nothing.
"Does she make a habit of complaining?"
"No."
"Your negligence could have easily led to her death," the Colonel said coolly.
Bingley bit his lip and felt remorseful. He was beginning to feel worried now. Perhaps they should return to Netherfield as soon as possible to see if Caroline was still alive.
"Thank you, Bingley." Colonel Fitzwilliam rose and left to give the others his standard speech. He was determined to question one more person before bedtime, and that one person should be at Netherfield, if his assumptions were correct. "I am postponing further inquiries until tomorrow. You are now all free to return to wherever you are spending the night, but I must ask you to remain available for questioning, which means you are not allowed to leave until you are officially released, on the punishment of being suspected -- and possibly apprehended -- for the crime."
While he was speaking, Drury had come in and he proudly presented the Colonel with a white piece of fabric. Fitzwilliam inspected it curiously, but did not recognise what it had been. "What is this, Drury? A handkerchief with lace trimmings?"
"I found it in the woods, sir, and thought it might be important."
"Yes, but what is it from?"
"May I see it?" Elizabeth asked. "Yes, it is as I thought. It was ripped off a petticoat. See, this is the hem."
Colonel Fitzwilliam announced himself and Lt. Drury at Netherfield and asked to speak to Miss Bingley. The carriage with the Bingleys and Darcys had not yet arrived.
"There was no need to come and check up on me," said Caroline. She had gathered from his name that he was Darcy's cousin and she had first assumed that he had come to see Darcy, but when she recognised the visitors, she knew what they had come for. She wished they would leave. Charles would probably return any minute now and he should not know about any of this. "No need at all."
"I am investigating the Wickham case," Fitzwilliam said. His intuition had been right. It was her.
Caroline looked startled. "Do you mean Charles took my complaints seriously?" She thought Bingley had pulled some strings, somewhere.
He looked at her with a frown. Does she mean Bingley killed Wickham?
"I did not know one could take official action against such complaints and Charles did not seem to listen to me at all."
His frown deepened. "Miss Bingley, Wickham was murdered."
Shock was quickly replaced by relief. "Good riddance," she said calmly.
"I came here to question you," he said just as calmly.
"I beg your pardon?" Caroline looked alarmed.
"You disliked the man."
Her eyes flashed contemptuously. "If I should murder everyone I disliked, hardly any of the Bennets would be living."
"What did he do to make you dislike him?"
She paled and jumped up at the sound of the others in the hall. "Please go," she said.
"They have already seen me at Longbourn," he said, remaining seated. "They know I am in the area."
"Please? They do not know --"
"They do not know that you rambled through the woods in a torn gown and that you left this behind?" He held up the piece of petticoat. "What are you afraid of?"
"My reputation?" she said cattily, but unable to stop her cheeks from growing hot in embarrassment.
"I was told that this used to be part of a petticoat."
"You had to be told?" she asked incredulously. What else could it be?
Drury made a curious sound that appeared to be a mixture of a snort and a cough. He had not thought about it in that way yet, but this was certainly one for the officer's mess.
"You may keep it," Caroline said haughtily. "How dare you imply that I wear mended petticoats?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam wished to come to the point and to determine exactly how strong her motive had been, rather than get stranded in an argument about Miss Bingley's undergarments. "Your brother said Wickham had touched you. Where did he touch you?"
"Who ever said that officers were gentlemen was seriously mistaken," she cried angrily. "Colonel, I refuse to answer such an impertinent question."
Bingley had heard his sister's raised voice and he looked in with a relieved expression on his face. "I am glad you are safe, Caroline. Fitzwilliam said you were missing."
Caroline, already angry, became even more angry. "You did not even miss me! You would not even notice my absence, would you? You would need somebody else to tell you. I am leaving this place! Nobody here cares for me. Nobody even notices whether I am there or not. I am going to London at the earliest opportunity."
"You are forbidden to leave the Meryton area, Miss Bingley," said the Colonel, studying the ceiling. "I forbid you."
"You cannot stop me."
"I shall not give you the carriage, Caroline," said Bingley. "Colonel Fitzwilliam forbids you to leave."
"And yours is the only carriage in Hertfordshire, Charles? Ha ha. I can travel post," Caroline said haughtily. "I can and I will. I shall walk to Meryton and nobody will be able to stop me."
Drury sensed that the Colonel was going to do something now. The wood nymph was becoming a little too overheated, and a dose of Colonel Coolness would be a perfect remedy.
"Miss Bingley," Fitzwilliam said coldly. "Must we really lock you into your room like a naughty child?"
"I dare you to do that," she cried defiantly. "But I shall escape and I shall go to London tonight anyway."
"Caroline?" Bingley exclaimed.
"Very well," said the Colonel. "Allow me to escort you as far as Meryton." He was not going to let a suspect slip away from him, even if it meant that he would have to keep an eye on her himself. There would not be any more transport to London this evening, so it meant that Miss Bingley would have to take a room at the inn, just like he and Drury would, if she was taking up his offer at all.
Drury looked puzzled. Is he going to let her get away? But then he saw the Colonel wink at him.
Part 6
Miss Bingley turned around and speedily left the room, presumably to pack her belongings.
"You cannot be serious, Fitzwilliam," said Bingley incredulously. "You will let her go?"
"What?" the Colonel laughed. "My prime suspect so far? Of course not. But you know what will happen if I do not take her. She will walk to Meryton and lose her way -- if she is innocent. If she is guilty, she will disappear. What choice do I have?"
"My sister is innocent."
"I shall not be convinced of her innocence until she talks to me. Drury, go ahead and book us rooms and some dinner in our rooms for an hour from now, will you?"
"How many rooms, Colonel?"
"As many as you think appropriate." It surprised him to see how quickly Miss Bingley returned, but he ignored her puffy eyes and slight hiccup. "Do you ride?" he asked her.
"No."
"Then we shall have to walk to Meryton." He said goodbye to Bingley, retrieved his horse and put her belongings in the saddlebags. "You may sit on the horse, if you wish."
Caroline looked at it with longing, for her feet were hurting a great deal, but she was afraid that she would fall off. "No, thank you."
Colonel Fitzwilliam observed her out of the corner of his eye and noticed her limping walk. He swung himself into the saddle. "Come here," he ordered.
"I shall not be transported in such a humiliating position again."
"Do not be so extremely silly." He assisted her to get onto the horse. "Miss Bingley," he said when she was finally in place. "Go easy on that perfume next time, if you please. It is very pervasive."
"Colonel, I do not see why I should listen to you, and why indeed you seem to think that there will be a next time that you will be so close to me that you will be able to smell my perfume, and indeed why I should be caring that you do not care for my perfume. It happens to be a very exclusive sort of perfume and it is very expensive. The scent cannot be but agreeable, except to people with unrefined tastes."
He listened to her without interrupting. "You seem much more talkative than this morning. This is an excellent occasion to tell me what you were doing in the woods."
"I told you I lost my way," Caroline said gruffly. "But I do not want to talk --"
"When exactly did you lose your way?"
"Please..." Her eyes and nose filled up.
"At first it seemed highly improbable to me that you could have gone missing without anyone noticing, so I assumed that whatever had happened to you, had happened this morning, but after speaking to Bingley --"
"You d-d-discovered that they all d-d-dislike me," she sniffed.
Sniffing? Tears! Uh oh! Unreasonable gibberish coming on! "After speaking to Bingley," he repeated and saw in horror that she was really crying now. "I discovered how it was possible that you were not missed."
"B-B-Because they d-d-dislike me." The tears streamed down her face and she spoke with difficulty.
I am no true romantic hero. They always kiss the lady and she stops crying, but apart from not having a desire to get a wet face, the lady would throw me off the horse, or worse, stick a knife in me. He chuckled to himself.
"I hate you, C-C-Colonel. You make fun of my d-d-distress."
"I was not. I was making fun of my distress."
"Anyhow, I do not see a reason to make fun of anything," she said sharply. "I am practically destitute and friendless."
And in the arms of the reluctant hero. Does that not cheer you? I do not know why I am in such a mood that I have to laugh at everything. "Do you never read romances, Miss Bingley?" he said in his most serious voice, but he was unable to keep the laugh out of it. Stop it. This is a murder inquiry and she might well be the murderer. "Forgive me. When did you get lost in the woods? And now I demand that you tell me or I shall be forced to think you murdered Wickham if you remain so secretive."
"I did not murder Wickham."
She lifted her head so sharply that it collided with his chin and he bit his lip. "Ouch!" he exclaimed. "That hurt." He felt his lip and found it was bleeding. "Thank you. Thank you for providing Drury with some more fodder for the gossip troups."
Caroline did not understand him. "I did not murder Wickham," she repeated.
"No, but you just murdered my reputation."
"Your reputation?" she cried. "What about mine?"
"You just murdered both of our reputations, then," he said coolly, sucking on his lip. "Now, where were we? When did you get lost in the woods?"
"Yesterday," she said in a small voice.
"And how?"
"I just got lost."
"My apologies for not believing you."
"Why do you not believe me?" she asked.
"Because you are not the type to get lost. Getting lost would mean maybe having to spend a night out of doors without a mirror and satin sheets and whatever else you would miss. Therefore, you make sure you never get lost. Am I right?"
"Yes," Caroline said meekly.
"And how did you get lost yesterday?"
"I saw Wickham."
"Dead?"
"No, alive."
"At what time was that?" the Colonel asked with a tingle of excitement.
"We are near Meryton. Put me down. I do not wish to be seen like this."
Colonel Fitzwilliam let out a silent scream. This was certainly one of the most difficult questionings he had ever come across. He let her down and walked beside her. "Please continue," he begged. "What time did you see Wickham?"
"At about twelve -- no, a quarter to twelve, I think. My brother and the others had not been gone for very long."
"And where did you see him?"
"I was staying close to the house because I did not want to encounter him and suddenly he was standing there between me and the house, barring my way with an evil grin." Caroline shuddered.
"Did he say anything?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?" Fitzwilliam tried to sound as polite as possible.
"Please, do not make me repeat it."
He would come back to that later. "And you ran?"
"Yes. He followed me for a while, but when I could not see him anymore I kept going and I suddenly realised that I did not know where I was."
"And then what?"
"I could not go back, because I was afraid I would see him again, so I sat down and cried. I kept expecting him every second and there were so many sounds..."
The fact that she was on the verge of tears again told him it was probably the truth. "And in the evening?"
"When I saw it was getting darker I walked around a little and I found some cabin. It was locked but I broke the window and climbed in -- and tore the rest of my gown that had not been torn yet by the thorny shrubbery -- and I fell asleep in there when it was getting light again. All the while I was h-h-hoping that Charles w-w-would s-s-send --" her lip trembled and she burst into tears again.
Though Colonel Fitzwilliam understood her, he rolled his eyes nevertheless. "Calm down. We are near the inn."
Caroline followed him with a bowed head and they met Drury behind the inn. He took one curious look at the Colonel's slightly swollen lip and then led them up to their rooms. "This is your room, Miss Bingley. I hope it is to your liking. And Colonel, you are here. I used your name for all three the rooms, as usual," he said when Caroline had gone into her room. "Dinner will be brought up to your room in fifteen minutes, because I knew you would want to study this note from the doctor with regard to the body and to write your report, right Colonel? I shall be picking up some local gossip downstairs," said Drury smoothly. If he had interpreted the swollen lip well, the Colonel would not want to be disturbed. Cool waters run deep.
"Do not pick up too many local drinks, Drury."
"No, sir."
Colonel Fitzwilliam read the note as he sat on his bed and began undressing. When he was only wearing his shirt and trousers, he walked towards the table and lit a candle, for it was getting darker in the room. He pulled out his notebook from his bag and stuck the doctor's note between the pages. Wickham had been stabbed with a sharp object -- probably a knife -- probably by a right-handed person, given the angle and the depth of the wound. A knock on the door announced dinner and two servants came in carrying steaming trays. He paid them and lifted up the lids to see what Drury had ordered for him and wondered why he had been given two plates. He assumed that Drury had changed his mind about eating here after he had ordered the meal. There was another knock on the door and he thought that not all of his dinner had been delivered yet, but it was Miss Bingley.
She stared at his clothes with a shocked expression. "Why are you so indecently dressed, Colonel? I want to have dinner because I am starving, but you are not coming down with me dressed like that."
"One, if you tried wearing that coat for a whole day, you will know why I took it off. Two, if we stay here, may I dine with you in these clothes? Three, close the door and come in, or close the door and go out, but do not stand there." Her mouth had fallen open when he had been speaking and he could not resist mentioning it. "Four, close your mouth."
"Dinner? Here?" It was very improper to have dinner in somebody's room, especially if he was a man.
"Yes, look," he pointed at the table.
"Oh, I do not know," she said doubtfully. "I mean, you are barefoot."
"They will be under the table," he said tersely and placed his papers on the bed . "I am going to eat."
"Do you always throw everything onto your bed?" Caroline asked distastefully, looking at the papers, coat, waistcoat, collar, hat, and various small items lying on the bed.
"Yes, and if you do not close that door, I shall do the same to -- you may tidy it, if you wish," he finished in a calmer tone and sat down at the table.
Caroline closed the door. "I shall do that after I eat," she said seriously. "I have not really eaten anything since yesterday's breakfast apart from a few of those black little things in the woods."
"Beetles?" he asked politely, wondering if she was really going to fold up his coat and such after dinner.
"No, blackberries." Caroline could not help smiling.
"Ahh, you smiled! Are you in a good mood now? Will you tell me more of what happened yesterday?"
"You are too persistent," she said as she began eating her soup.
"I must be. It is my job."
"Why must I suffer?"
"Because you are withholding information that I need."
She sighed and stayed silent until she had finished her soup. She placed the soup bowl back on the tray when he did the same and she looked around for her knife and fork. "Umm, did they forget my cutlery?"
"No, they did not," the Colonel said calmly.
"Are we to share?" she raised her eyebrows. "I know inns are not very sophisticated, but surely..."
"I took yours, as a precaution."
"I do not understand."
"I honestly do not feel up to undergoing the same treatment as Wickham."
"What does that have to do with my knife and fork?" she cried. "Please do not speak such nonsense."
"Do you not know how he was murdered?"
"Of course not! I did not do it. I told you so. Please do not force me to eat with my hands! I am not a savage! I shall be forced to take your knife and fork if you do not give me back mine."
Colonel Fitzwilliam handed them back to her and they ate in silence. When they had finished, he put everything back on the trays and placed them outside the door. He retrieved his notes from the bed and took his pen and ink. "I need to write a report." He had not been able to determine whether Miss Bingley was right-handed or not, because everybody ate with their knives in their right hand, but he could get her to write a little bit. "Would you mind writing a detailed account of your dealings with Mr. Wickham, from the very beginning?"
"When he began to be -- when he first -- you mean?"
"Yes." He gave her another pen and smiled when she took it in her left hand to dip it into the inkpot.
Caroline paused in exasperation. "Colonel, will you stop having those secret moments of pleasure? It is highly annoying to other people present. You continually laugh at me when I am sad, you take away my knife, and now you are laughing at me because I am no doubt holding my pen in some ridiculous way, and the only one who understands you is yourself."
"Will you write something?" he asked.
"I was just about to when you interrupted me by smiling," she said haughtily. "But I do not know where to start. I must think first."
"Write the date."
"And address it to Dear Colonel, I suppose?"
"Write you hate me, for all I care, but just write something, so I can see which hand you use to write with."
I am left-handed, Colonel. Was there not an easier way to ask me? Caroline wrote down, and pushed the sheet towards him.
"Thank you," he smiled brilliantly. "But I must beg you to still write that detailed account."
"If I knew why, I would perhaps consider doing it."
"To help me. I helped you, you help me."
"I shall try," she promised.
Part 7
If only because the Colonel would not give her any peace until she wrote, Caroline wrote. He interrupted her after a minute or two. "Do you know any more left-handed people connected to this case?"
"No. We do not organise ourselves in secret societies any more than green-eyed people do."
"No?" he raised his eyebrows.
"Why are you still mending your pen? Do you need help?"
"You have the pen I normally use."
"I wonder that I did not need to mend it," Caroline remarked. "I usually have to make them suit a left hand."
"So do I," Colonel Fitzwilliam said casually. "That is why I am mending it."
"Oh," she cried and he laughed. "What are you going to write?"
"A report for any superiors who might be interested."
"Will you mention my being here?"
"Most certainly not. I shall limit myself to the essentials."
"I am not essential?"
"Not really."
Caroline stretched out her legs in relief now that this indiscreet business would not be revealed to anyone, but she pulled them back immediately when they met his legs, and concentrated on her own report.
"Done," she announced, and she studied his face as he read it through. His facial expression changed several times, but when he finally looked up, his face was inscrutable. "He was blackmailing you. Did you pay him?"
"No, nothing," she said anxiously, waiting for him to say more.
"I can see why his threats scared you. I hope he did not carry any of them out?"
"No," she blushed and cast down her eyes. "I wrote everything that happened down."
He smiled kindly. "Thank you. Now, you are tired -- I have seen you yawn -- and you should go to bed. You shall go to London tomorrow. I was not going to let you go, but now that you seem to be innocent, I have no more objections."
Caroline looked sheepish. "I no longer know if I wish to go."
He thought rapidly and saw a way she could avoid his going himself. "You must go, if only to get me a new supply of clothes."
"I beg you pardon?" Caroline said in confusion.
"The case will take longer than I thought. I am going to run out of clothes," he explained and started writing something down. "Here. This is what I need, my address, and my keys." One should not ask Miss Bingley things. Refusal and objection were standard reactions.
"Colonel! You cannot expect me to --"
"I know it is highly irregular," he interrupted. "But had you wished to return to Netherfield and say you changed your mind? Or had you wished to stay in this inn, which is even more odd?"
She was silent and accepted the note and the keys. "Very well, but only because you are also left-handed."
Colonel Fitzwilliam closed his eyes and shook his head as she got up and cleared his bed, hanging up his coat and putting away the other items too.
"Goodnight," she said, and disappeared.
"Goodnight," he called after her. He shook his head one more time to get her out of his head, and then turned his full attention to his report.
In the morning, Caroline found a note under her door, saying that her passage on the 10 o'clock coach had been arranged. She saw she would have to hurry.
The Colonel and Drury had met for breakfast at nine. Drury had given him a few curious looks when he saw that Miss Bingley was not with him, but he had news of his own to tell so he soon forgot to speculate. "There is a woman staying here who came here in the hopes of swindling Wickham out of any money Mr. Bennet might have left to him."
"Did Mr. Bennet leave anything to him? We do not even know that."
"Neither does Polly," said Drury.
"Polly?" the Colonel raised his eyebrows.
"Yes, sir. We are on a first name basis."
"We shall stop by the attorney to inquire. Somehow I do not think that anyone would leave Wickham anything. And I also think that there cannot be many attorneys in Meryton. It should not be too difficult to find the right one."
At Mr. Philips's office they heard of the woman contesting the will, but since they appeared to be no visible connection to the Wickham case, they did not ask all the particulars.
Part 8
Caroline suffered all the discomfort of travelling post and she was glad when she finally arrived at the address Colonel Fitzwilliam had given her. It was not an area she would ever wish to live in, and she felt very conspicuous as she unlocked the front door, but nobody came to ask what she was doing. Quickly she went inside and looked around herself. How very small!
She pushed open a door and found herself in something that was as big as a broom cupboard, but which contained bookcases, a desk and several chairs. "What is this?" she mumbled. "The drawing room? Sitting room? Study? Library?" She closed the door again. Despite its apparent multi-functionality, it did not seem to contain any clothes.
Passing the kitchen she finally discovered the bedroom. It was equally small. There was barely enough space to move around, and most of that space was taken up by discarded items of clothing. Caroline frowned. She had only one word to describe it: untidy. How am I going to find everything on this list? What is clean and what is dirty?
The bed was full too, and she threw everything on the floor. The things she needed she placed on the bed and packed them in a trunk. She put it out in the hall and returned to the bedroom to stare around in dismay.
When the room looked more than presentable again, she noticed that it had been time for dinner a few hours ago. Caroline had no idea where to get a meal and a bed at such a late hour, and to venture outside in the dark was not something that was attractive to her. She looked around in the small kitchen, but she had no idea how to prepare the things she found. Not knowing how to cook anything, she ate some old bread and raw carrots, and most of the Colonel's supply of biscuits while she inspected his study annex sitting room for a place to sleep.
Colonel Fitzwilliam discovered that nothing had been left to Wickham. Knowing Wickham, he suspected that the man had been in debt, as usual. People he had owed money would not have been very likely to kill him, and it was highly improbable that someone owed Wickham money. The Colonel frowned as he toyed with the possible money-lending relationships. It was possible that Wickham had borrowed money to pay off his debts, but Fitzwilliam could not believe that Wickham had borrowed money and then lent it out to somebody else in return for nothing. In order to clarify these matters he would have to inquire into Wickham's finances. He penned a note for one of his subordinates in London.
"What are you writing, sir?" Drury asked. The Colonel usually thought in silence, and Drury could hardly ever guess what he was thinking.
"I need someone to look up Wickham's financial situation. I should have thought of it sooner and Miss Bingley could have taken it for me. It would have been quicker than the regular mail."
"Miss Bingley? What happened to Miss Bingley?" Drury probed.
"I sent her to London."
"To London, sir? Did I not hear you forbid her to leave?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam shrugged. "She did not do it."
"Oh, sir? And you sent her to London? I thought you..."
"I what?"
"Oh, nothing, sir," Drury said hastily. "I thought you wanted to keep an eye on her, whether she did it or not, if you know what I mean."
"Drury, not all of us are as inflammable as you are. Please keep that in mind. Now, there is Longbourn. Have you any suggestion as to which suspect I should question first? I was thinking of Collins. The ladies would perhaps not have wanted to come close enough to Wickham to stab him. Miss Bingley ran away from him."
"Miss Bingley is not very inflammable either or she would not have gone to London. Other ladies might have allowed Wickham to approach."
"And then when he came too close they stabbed him?" Fitzwilliam mused, ignoring the reference to Miss Bingley. "That is possible. Alright, who first? We have had Mary Bennet. Not Mrs. Collins. She would know ways to ward off a man without using a knife, I expect. And Mrs. Bennet was fond of Wickham. The only one left would be Miss Kitty Bennet. Yes, we shall start with Kitty Bennet."
Part 9
"May we speak to Miss Kitty Bennet?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked when he and Drury had arrived at Longbourn. A very nervous Kitty was shown in and he smiled to put her at ease. "Please take a seat, Miss Bennet. Could you tell me what you did the day Mr. Wickham was murdered?"
"I do not remember," Kitty said with a look of panic. "I honestly do not! I knew you would want to know, but I do not remember a thing."
He studied her carefully, but he decided to assume that she was just awed by being questioned by the authorities. Such things happened. Some people closed up completely. He helped her a little. "Mrs. Bennet had a nervous breakdown, I understand."
Kitty looked vague and then relieved. "Oh! I stayed with her."
"All the time?"
"Most of the time. I had to excuse myself a few times," said Kitty uncomfortably.
"Of course. But you did not leave the house?"
Kitty shook her head.
"Do you remember anyone who did?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
"Wickham?"
"Apart from Wickham."
Kitty thought hard. "Mr. Collins?"
He already knew that. It looked like Kitty Bennet was not going to be able to help him along at all. He decided to try a different approach. "Had you any reason to want Mr. Wickham dead?"
"No sir."
"How was his behaviour towards you, Miss Bennet?" he asked. He did not expect that Wickham had been after Kitty. After all, she had nothing to offer in the way of money. She had tolerable looks, but not, he thought, the sort of spirit to attract a man like Wickham. And Wickham went either after money -- Georgiana -- or the other thing -- Lydia Bennet.
Kitty shrugged. "Normal, I think. He was friendly, but I do not know if he ever meant it."
"And his behaviour towards other people? His wife?"
"Oh, he was always very indifferent to Lydia. Not at all like my other sisters' husbands, except when my mother was around, because he was always trying to ingratiate himself. He avoided the Darcys, and I think the Bingleys too. And everyone avoids Mr. Collins, so I suppose he did too."
"What about Miss Bingley?"
"She avoided him, like she avoided all of us," said Kitty.
He had not thought Kitty would be so observant, but he did not know that she had been studying Caroline as the closest thing to a model of London sophistication.
"Mrs. Collins?"
"I do not know about her."
The Colonel frowned and looked at Drury who was diligently taking notes. Kitty had not helped him a lot. From what he had heard, Mrs. Bennet had no reasons to kill Wickham, so he saved her for last. Mr. Collins would just be plain annoying, so he put him off as long as possible too. That left him Mrs. Bingley, Mrs. Collins, Mrs. Darcy and the servants. "Thank you, Miss Bennet. Would you please ask Mrs. Collins to come and see me?" At least he knew he would receive a reasonably accurate account from her. From Mrs. Darcy too, but he saved her to provide a little buffer between the undoubtedly trying interrogations of Mr. Collins and Mrs. Bennet.
Kitty made room for Charlotte, who sat down calmly and clasped her hands in her lap.
"Mrs. Collins," he nodded by way of greeting. As with several others, he had known her in a more relaxed and friendly setting, and it was always difficult for his suspects to adjust themselves to the official questionings. He himself had learnt to do that long ago and he eyed her in a business-like manner. "Could you tell me what you did yesterday?"
"After breakfast I retired to the drawing room where I stitched for a few hours."
"A few hours at a stretch?" Fitzwilliam asked incredulously.
She nodded. "Sometimes I had company. It is not as dull as it seems if you have someone to talk to, or things to think about, like I do with the sensitive entail business."
"What time was it that you had company?"
"That is difficult to say. Elizabeth joined me three times. She found it rather trying to stay with her mother all the time. I cannot say when the first time was, but I can say that her visits increased in length every time," she smiled. "The last time, just before tea, Jane joined us too."
"How long did the first visit last?" the Colonel asked.
"It must have been about fifteen minutes, and the last one about an hour."
"Did you see anyone else?"
"Not until tea. They -- Mrs. Bennet -- is not very fond of me at the moment. She sees me as a traitor and she kept to her rooms because she did not want to see me, and I think most people stayed with her not to upset her by sitting with me."
"What did you think of Mr. Wickham?"
"I did not think of him at all," Charlotte said cautiously. "I have not been in his company often enough to have a definite opinion of him. Of course I know of Lydia's elopement, and I certainly have an opinion on what kind of man it takes to talk a fifteen-year old girl into doing such a thing. I am afraid I think he did not have a very steady character."
"In other words, your opinion of him was not very high."
"No, certainly not."
"But was it low enough to wish him dead?"
"No. I am -- was -- completely indifferent towards him. Elizabeth is my friend, not Lydia."
"Did Mr. Wickham never approach you?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. Again, the lady did not seem to have anything Wickham could desire, unless it was the property that her husband had just inherited, but he did not see any easy way for Wickham to benefit from that.
"I am a married woman, Colonel," she protested.
"I do not think a husband would have stopped him," he said bluntly.
Especially one such as mine, Charlotte understood clearly. "Perhaps not, but he did not pay any attention to me."
Colonel Fitzwilliam decided that was enough for the moment. He needed a few minutes to confer with Drury. "Thank you, Mrs. Collins. That will be all. There is no need to ask a next suspect. We shall come for her in a few minutes."
Part 10
"Drury?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
Drury sighed. "It is difficult. I did not see anyone who looks like he did it. Everybody stayed in the house."
"And from what they have told us, none of them had a motive strong enough to kill him in cold blood. Miss Bingley could have stabbed him in self defence, were it not for her left-handedness. He seems not to have approached any other ladies, unless they are not telling us."
"Would they tell you, Colonel?" Drury asked sceptically. "We only know about Miss Bingley because Bingley told you."
"That is true, and I suppose that if she had any reason to be afraid of him, she would not tell anyone for fear of being suspected. Let us see Mrs. Bingley."
Drury returned with Jane. He bowed. "Good day, Mrs. Bingley. You must have heard by now what sort of things I want to know."
"Yes, I have," Jane said serenely. "I spent most of the time with my mother in her room. She sent me down to the kitchen a few times to get something and at about half past two I went to the drawing room, where I found Lizzy and Charlotte."
"Had you any reason to dislike Mr. Wickham?"
"I always find it very hard to come to such a decision. There are so many things to consider."
The Colonel guessed that Mrs. Bingley did not dislike many people, and when she did, she almost blamed herself for doing so. "Did you see much of him?"
"No, most of the contact with the Wickhams was through correspondence with my sister Lydia."
"Did she ever ask you for money?"
Jane looked surprised. "How did you know that?"
"A lucky guess. Did you ever give them anything?"
"Too often, says Lizzy."
"But not enough to make Wickham debt-free?"
"I never heard of any debts."
"Why else would he need money?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. "Thank you, Mrs. Bingley. That was all." He noticed that his interrogations became shorter and shorter. "Please ask Mr. Collins to come next."
Collins was a picture of wounded pride and nervous humility. He was terribly indignant about being summoned so late, and in his mind he had tried to find reasons for it, but it could not be that the Colonel -- who was Lady Catherine's nephew and therefore deserving of respect -- asked the Master of Longbourn to come last -- which he had been thinking at first -- because Mrs. Bennet and Mrs. Darcy had not been questioned yet, and they were no more above suspicion than he was. Did that imply that the Colonel thought they were more important? Now that he had finally achieved something that he had expected to make him respected and revered, he was still being slighted. Mr. Collins's insight did not stretch so far as to allow him to see himself from another person's perspective. Therefore he was thoroughly puzzled. "How may I be of assistance, Colonel?" he asked eagerly.
"You could begin by giving me a detailed account of what happened yesterday."
"Yesterday, yesterday..." Mr. Collins pondered the question. An indignant look crossed his face. "Yesterday I visited the attorney, because there is a woman who dared to contest the will and she has the...the...indecency to suggest that I am not the rightful master -- heir -- to Longbourn. I spent a few hours discussing the problem with Mr. Philips, who assured me that he will do anything to solve this unsavoury matter in the most discreet way possible."
"I heard about it," said the Colonel, before Mr. Collins could go into details. "When did you return?"
"Just before dinner." Collins did not say that he had returned so he could claim his place at the head of the dining table.
"Were you with Mr. Philips all the time?" He knew the answer already, for Philips had complained to him about having been stuck with Collins all day.
"Yes, it was a matter of great importance as you can imagine, and --"
"Yes, I see."
"The woman --"
"Unless she killed Wickham she has nothing to do with this case," the Colonel cut in. Mr. Collins started to apologise, but he silenced him with his hand. "What was your opinion of Mr. Wickham?"
"It was a great shock to hear of his death. I have always preached --"
"Yes, but your opinion?"
"That disgraceful business with my cousin Lydia was thankfully resolved, but still it was a blemish on my connections and not at all beneficial for someone in my position. Fortunately, Lady Catherine saw I was in no way to blame."
"That was very fortunate for you," Colonel Fitzwilliam murmured. There was no silencing Collins, so he let him talk and listened in case he heard something important, but it was all emptiness. "Thank you, Mr. Collins," he interrupted after twenty minutes of nonsense. "Please make room for Mrs. Darcy." Collins looked taken aback, but he left nevertheless.
"Good day, Colonel," Elizabeth greeted him when she came in. "I wish we had met under more pleasant circumstances."
"Murder is never pleasant," he agreed.
"Was it one of us? I hope not. The scandal..."
"It is not very likely that I should tell you if I suspected who it was. Unless I knew for certain. You, on the other hand, must tell me if you have any suspicions. Such knowledge has been known to be dangerous."
"I do not have any such knowledge. I cannot believe it was any of my relatives, and I know it was not me."
"But you disliked the man?"
"I disliked him, yes, but I tolerated him for my sister's sake, to avoid -- to pretend that all was well. It is not very likely then that I should murder him and draw so much negative attention to our family, is it?" Elizabeth asked.
"I only have your word for it."
"Colonel?" she frowned. "You know me."
"I know only what you want me to know of you, Mrs. Darcy."
"You are very cool," she complained.
Drury snorted and coughed. He was sure the Colonel did not know his nickname.
"Drury would agree that I am coolness itself during an investigation," Colonel Fitzwilliam replied with an impassive face. "Is that not so, Lieutenant?"
Drury now choked as he stared at his superior in horror. Colonel Coolness knows he is Colonel Coolness! He will have our heads for this!
"Is that not so, Lieutenant?" Fitzwilliam asked again when Drury seemed incapable of speech.
"Yes, Colonel," Drury croaked.
"So you see, it is not your fault, Mrs. Darcy. What did you do yesterday?"
"We came over to Longbourn -- do you need to know what I did before that, or was Wickham still alive then?"
"He left after breakfast, so if you had wanted to murder him before you came to Longbourn, you would have had to lie in wait behind the hedge somewhere and speed yourself back to Netherfield. I am not certain that is possible, unless you were all in it together and are all telling the same lies about the time you left Netherfield."
"Oh, Colonel! I am sure that is very probable," Elizabeth said sarcastically.
"You never know."
"We came over to Longbourn, and we went upstairs to my mother. We had tea, and Fitzwilliam left after he had finished his tea. He said he was going to the library. He can do that. My mother would never dare to reproach him, but if I were to leave, I should be hearing of it for the rest of my life, so I stayed. I slipped away a few times and I sat with Charlotte -- Mrs. Collins -- in the drawing room, because I felt sorry for her that my mother was treating her so very ill. It is not her fault that my father died and that the house is entailed away. And then we all met up for tea. Wickham was not there. I suppose he was dead? After tea it was much the same. I sat with my mother for a while and walked through the house for a bit."
"Did you see anyone on your way to the drawing room?"
"No, but I heard voices coming from the library. I saw the servants in the kitchen. That was it."
"Was anyone absent for a longer period of time?" Fitzwilliam asked.
"How much time would have been necessary?"
"Please answer first."
"I do not know what Fitzwilliam and Bingley did, or Mary, but I suppose they could have slipped out of the house for a while. So could Charlotte, but every time I went down, she was there."
"Thank you, Mrs. Darcy. That will be enough for the moment." The Colonel felt he needed to read through all the statements again, and perhaps look elsewhere. There was not much to go on right now. Perhaps the servants knew something, but he still had Mrs. Bennet to question. "Please send in Mrs. Bennet."