Beginning, Previous Section, Section III
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Part 20
"Are you apprehending Miss Bingley?" Mrs. Bennet said in alarm. It would be a disgrace for Jane.
"No, I am not," Colonel Fitzwilliam answered. "Miss Bingley has been placed under my care for the duration of the case, what with Mr. Bingley possibly being under suspicion." He did not say that he had placed Miss Bingley in his own care single-handedly.
"Oh."
"Meanwhile, Miss Bingley will assist me by taking notes. Are you coming, Miss Bingley?"
"Did you really have to tell her?" Caroline asked as he assisted her into the carriage.
"She would start to conjecture all kinds of things otherwise."
"Which nobody would pay attention to," Caroline remarked.
"Did you learn anything while you were up there?"
"Nothing of value. They do not even know who is next in line for the entail. The only thing I learned was that they are all happy to see Mr. Collins dead, although they think he died a natural death. They seem innocent."
"Perhaps they are, if my line of thinking is correct."
"And is my line of thinking correct in that I think that you will again not share your line of thinking with me?"
"Possibly," the Colonel answered. "When did I not...?"
"When did you not? When did you?" Caroline exclaimed. She crossed her arms and looked out of the carriage.
"Caroline..." Colonel Fitzwilliam nudged her with his knee when she did not respond.
She turned her face back to look at him. "You made me your assistant. Well, that was your decision. I chose to accept it with a slight modification to my position. You can either take me as your partner or not take me as your assistant. I demand that you tell me everything you are thinking, if it has the smallest bearing on the case. It is a no more than reasonable request that you cannot refuse to grant me."
"I was thinking that Mr. Collins might be murdered by his two visitors." Colonel Fitzwilliam said nothing about her assistant status, thinking that she had already proved herself quite valuable and that he did not object to her promotion, for the sake of peace.
"And we are presumably now on our way to find them?" she inquired. "Where?"
"Meryton. We shall have to inquire at Philips's office first, because I understand they have been there and we have no idea what they look like."
"Who?"
"Mrs. Nebbet and her son."
Caroline looked at him curiously. "If you do not have a speech defect, I should say that this person is heavily involved, because it is too great a coincidence."
"What do you mean exactly?" he asked. Speech defect? What is she talking about?
"What was this woman's name?"
"Nebbet."
"That is what I meant."
"I still do not see what you mean."
"I suppose you have never been called...Witzfilliam...or something like that? Like I have been called Lingby by some stupid man."
The Colonel looked so very enlightened suddenly that Caroline thought he would either slap her on her back or kiss her on the cheek, but he did none of that. He merely placed his hands on her knees and leant forward slightly before he realised that he was being a little too enthusiastic and he sat up straight again. "That was very clever of you."
"Not at all. It is pretty obvious to me."
"You are a worthy...partner."
Caroline smiled at this victory.
They alighted from the carriage in Meryton in front of Mr. Philips's office. After only a few minutes they had discovered that Mr. Philips was very bad at describing people, but they departed with an address where the Nebbets supposedly lived.
"Well," said the Colonel, looking at the piece of paper on which the address was written. "Shall we go there?"
"Will it be dangerous?" Caroline asked. "Will they be waiting with knives and poison? Will you have to defend me with that sword thing?" To her great horror the Colonel produced an evil looking knife from somewhere in his uniform. "Put that away! How many weapons are you carrying?"
"I use it to cut bread with as well," he said calmly. "We do not reveal our suspicions to them straightaway. We could start by saying that we have come to inquire after the entail. Remember that she contested the entail?"
"Umm yes, but why would an officer go into the legal issues? Would she not think that strange? Would she not expect an attorney?"
"I am counting on her to be too excited by being taken seriously for her to notice such details."
"Can I stay in the carriage?"
"Partners do not stay in the carriage. Only assistants do," he said slyly.
Part 21
"Why did Colonel Fitzwilliam have to take Caroline?" Bingley asked. "He said she was cleared, and yet he takes her. Very, very strange."
"He took Caroline?" Darcy frowned. "And why was she cleared and we were not?"
"Where have they gone now?" Elizabeth asked.
"They were called away," said Bingley with a shrug. "I did not inquire."
"But he took your sister." Darcy did not know if he would allow his sister to go with anyone investigating a murder case, even if it concerned a cousin of his. Anyway, his cousin had not behaved in a very cousin-like manner, so the last was not a valid argument.
Soon a note from Longbourn was delivered for Jane. She gasped upon reading it.
"What is it?" Elizabeth demanded. "Who is it from?"
"It is from Mama. Mr. Collins has died."
"How?"
"Mama writes that he had an apoplexy."
"Apoplexy," Darcy muttered. "How convenient. Are you certain that he did not get any help?"
"I beg your pardon?"
"Look at it this way -- this is the second disagreeable family member to go. If one could chose a person, would one not pick Collins? I wager that is where Fitzwilliam was called away to."
"Do you think Mr. Collins was murdered?" Bingley asked with huge eyes.
"I have a strong suspicion that it was indeed so."
"But if he was as you say called away to Longbourn, why did he take Caroline?" Bingley looked utterly confused. "Caroline hates Longbourn. Oh...I am sorry, Jane," he said anxiously.
"I know she does," Jane said calmly. "It does not bother me."
"Miss Bennet," said Drury in a very official tone. He was enjoying himself now that he was in charge here. "I understand you discovered the body."
Mary nodded and folded her hands.
"How did it happen?"
"I came in and I saw him fallen forwards on the desk, and I called out to him, because I wanted to get some work done in the library and I could not do it if he was present."
"Why not?"
"Because Mr. Collins was of an interfering disposition. He would have questioned what I was doing. Perhaps he would even have said that I had no right to those books because they were all his now. I wanted him out."
"You wanted him out," Drury repeated and wrote it down. "And did he listen?"
"He was dead, Lieutenant," said Mary primly.
"Quite, quite." Questioning was harder than Drury had imagined and he felt he was cutting a very silly figure. "I meant what happened when he turned out to be...er...dead?"
"When he did not answer I called for Hill."
"And Mrs. Hill established that he was indeed dead?"
Mary nodded again. "She held a mirror in front of his mouth and discovered that he was no longer breathing."
"And then what?"
"We told Mrs. Bennet."
"And what did Mrs. Bennet do?" He could make an educated guess. She would have been ecstatic.
"She came down to ascertain herself of the fact that he was truly dead. I told her it was important that we inform the Colonel of it, and she objected for a while, and then she sent a note to Meryton to the Colonel."
"Who was no longer there," Drury said to himself.
"I beg your pardon?"
"He is now staying at Netherfield."
"Netherfield?" Mary wrinkled her nose in surprise. "That would explain why he was so long in coming."
"I understand that Mr. Collins had had visitors before he passed away."
"I heard that too."
"But you did not see them?"
"No."
"Did anybody else apart from Mrs. Hill?"
"I think not," said Mary slightly accusingly. "We all have our occupations."
"I wish someone would have seen them," Drury grumbled. "Colonel Fitzwilliam might as well be out chasing ghosts."
As it happened, the Colonel was not chasing ghosts, for he had a specific destination in mind. When the carriage slowed down, he gave Caroline some last instructions. "Do not be too forward, and do not drink anything offered."
"You would be surprised how good I am at that," she chatted nervously. "What with all the disgusting drinks people offer their visitors. Some people like sugar with a little bit of tea, can you imagine that? It is absolutely disgusting and it is absolutely disastrous for my figure. My cheeks --"
"Quiet now," he warned and placed his hand against her cheek for a second. "There is nothing wrong with your cheeks. Let us get out of the carriage."
Part 22
Colonel Fitzwilliam knocked on the door while Caroline kept back a little, lest a savage horde would throw open the door and run out. The door was opened by a woman in her forties of a neat and clean appearance. He bade her a good day and introduced himself. "I am investigating the murder of Mr. Wickham."
"Who?" said the woman gruffly.
"Are you Mrs. Nebbet?"
"I am."
"May we come in?" It did not sound as if he would accept a refusal, despite the pleasant tone he had spoken in.
Mrs. Nebbet shrugged and led the way inside, and they followed. Caroline could not help gripping his hand as she shuffled after him in the narrow passage. She released it when the Colonel gave it a little squeeze just before he stepped into the small drawing room. Mrs. Nebbet waved for him to take a seat, and he sat down. Caroline was not going to remain standing all by herself, so she quickly sat down next to him, on the side of the door.
"I understand that you visited Mr. Philips in Meryton the day before Mr. Wickham was murdered. Were you acquainted with Mr. Wickham?"
"I was not."
"What was the nature of your business with Mr. Philips?"
"It concerned the will of the late Mr. Bennet. I wished to know if he had made any provisions for his son."
"His son?" Colonel Fitzwilliam echoed.
"He and I had a son together."
Caroline had taken out her notebook and she was scribbling diligently. The woman looked harmless enough and she needed not be on her guard as much as she had initially thought. "What is his name?" she asked.
"Jeremy. He is the rightful heir to Longbourn," Mrs. Nebbet said with conviction. She relaxed somewhat when they did not immediately look shocked.
"What is his last name?" Caroline inquired. She was certain that it could not be Nebbet, nor Bennet.
"We kept it at Nebbet, so as not to cause any scandal in this neighbourhood, because Mrs. Bennet would surely reject Jeremy's claim. Longbourn is not far off, and she might easily have come to know about us."
Colonel Fitzwilliam smiled deceptively amiably. "Why would Mrs. Bennet reject his claim? She has no sons of her own."
"She would think it a scandal, I am sure."
"How old is Jeremy?" Fitzwilliam asked.
"Sixteen."
"That means he is not even old enough to inherit if he is indeed Mr. Bennet's son."
"He is!" the woman exclaimed. "Why should I lie and bring this scandal upon us?"
"Could you tell me how -- the history of your acquaintance with Mr. Bennet, Madam?" the Colonel asked politely. Inheriting Longbourn was perhaps well worth the trouble of a scandal.
"I want to emphasise that I am a decent woman. It was nothing but a one-time indiscretion. These things happen." Mrs. Nebbet looked slightly uncomfortable. "It was in London. I happened to meet Mr. Bennet in the hotel where I worked and we remarked that our names were quite similar and then...then...one thing led to another. I am sure you can imagine the sort of thing that happened. I discovered I was with child a few months later. I was not pleased with it, for I was a widow." Mrs. Nebbet paused. "I could not face the scandal that would surely awaited me, so I removed to the country and pretended that my husband had died when I was already with child. Fortunately some people knew me from my time in London, and they did not exactly know when my husband died, but they knew he was still alive the year before, and they accepted my story and thus convinced everyone else. My situation was universally pitied. If the truth had been known, I would not have met with such goodwill. It would have been a scandal."
Colonel Fitzwilliam thought of his own narrow escape from a same sort of scandal. He hardly dared to look aside.
Caroline looked sympathetically at Mrs. Nebbet. "Did you ever hear anything from Mr. Bennet again?"
"I contacted him, to be sure, and occasionally he sent me money, but we did not ever meet again."
"You visited Longbourn this morning," Colonel Fitzwilliam said. He would ask Philips about Jeremy's chances later. It would be more reliable than asking this woman. "I heard you had a word with Mr. Collins. What did you speak about?"
"I wished to know if he was going to do anything for Jeremy if Jeremy could not inherit. He said he would not, because he wanted nothing to do with immoral behaviour. I did not see the point of arguing with him, because he was obviously very narrow-minded and stubborn, and he was anxious to see us go, so we left."
"How did you leave him?" the Colonel asked with a puzzled frown on his face. Collins was alive when she left him? Or is she lying?
"I do not understand your meaning, sir."
"What was he doing when you left?"
"He was sitting at his desk."
"Did you drink anything while you were there?" Caroline cut in. She hoped there had not been any more visitors nobody knew of. The tea cups had to have been used by somebody.
"Yes, we had tea."
"How did it taste?"
"Like tea."
"Did you not remark anything strange about the tea cups or the pouring of the tea?" the Colonel asked.
Part 23
"Mr. Collins poured the tea and handed us our cups, but Jeremy switched the cups and he told me he did that because there seemed to be some tea leaves in his cup already before the tea was poured. He is quite tall so he was able to see inside the cup, and he switched the cups when Mr. Collins was looking for a fallen tea spoon, because he hates nothing more than tea leaves in his tea," said Mrs. Nebbet.
"He explained himself later?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
"Yes, I did not ask him anything when it happened, but I asked him when we were on our way back to Meryton."
"Where is Jeremy now?"
"He is apprenticed to Mr. Miller just around the corner."
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked at Caroline. "We shall have to ask Jeremy about the tea leaves."
"Please, sir," Mrs. Nebbet spoke up uncomfortably. "Jeremy has just started his apprenticeship and I should not wish him to -- to --"
He understood her wish. To be questioned in connection with a murder case would certainly not make a good impression on Jeremy's master. "When does he finish, Madam?"
"At six."
Six o'clock would not be a long wait. "We shall wait."
"Can I get you something while you wait, Colonel? Madam?"
"Some tea, please." The Colonel suddenly realised that he had not had tea yet. He did not know about Miss Bingley, but he certainly could do with something to eat.
Mrs. Nebbet got them some tea and sandwiches. "Would you mind I went about my usual things, Colonel?"
"Not at all." He watched her disappear into the small backyard where she began to take down the laundry. "Well?" he said to Caroline.
"Hmm," she said with a full mouth.
"And that means...?"
"It does not look like she did it."
"Indeed it does not. I am tempted to think that..." Fitzwilliam took a bite of his sandwich.
Caroline waited impatiently while he took his time to munch. "Can you not chew faster?" she asked at last.
"Not if I want to avoid indigestion," he replied.
"You were saying?"
"I am tempted to think that Mr. Collins himself did everybody a favour."
Caroline said nothing but looked around herself, removed her earrings and replaced them, all the while frowning. "Again, it does look that way, but it would, would it not? Would you not say that you had changed the cups if you had poisoned Collins, to make it look as if you had been the intended victim?"
"Is she that clever?"
"Do you have to be clever to do something like that?"
"Maybe not clever, but certainly very daring. It is a very big risk to take to bring up the switch when you might easily have kept silent. We shall see. People who are lying betray themselves sooner or later."
"So you believe everybody until they make a mistake?" Caroline asked.
"Sometimes. I think the Nebbets may be innocent. We might not be able to come up with a reasonable motive for Collins murdering Jeremy -- he might have felt threatened, perhaps -- but it is equally difficult the other way around," he said pensively. "What would the Nebbets gain by disposing of Collins? Not very much, since they have not yet been able prove Jeremy is the rightful heir."
"How could he be, anyway?" Caroline asked.
"They would have a difficult case," the Colonel agreed. "Any right-thinking person would know that he would be suspected of murder if he killed the heir at the same time as he was putting himself forward as the real heir. Therefore, I do not think they did it. If Mrs. Nebbet had been more like..."
"Mrs. Bennet?" Caroline suggested.
"I am not naming any names. Do you think Mrs. Nebbet is the type to get carried away by emotions?"
"I cannot say. All I can say is that she has chosen a relatively quiet and unobtrusive course of action. Do you realise we have not even told her Collins is dead?" Caroline fell silent when Mrs. Nebbet returned.
"Jeremy will be any minute now," she told them, and not a minute later noise announced the boy's arrival. He stopped when he saw them and his mother informed him of their guests' objectives.
"So, Jeremy," Colonel Fitzwilliam began when they were all seated again. "How long have you known about your father?"
"Only a few days," said Jeremy.
Caroline studied him. He was a nice-looking boy, a bit tired from his day's work, but apart from his clothes he could pass for the son of a gentleman very well, and he showed a remarkable resemblance to Kitty.
"I understand you went over to Longbourn this morning to speak with Mr. Collins."
"Yes."
"I heard you switched tea cups. Why did you?"
"Why do you want to know?"
"I shall tell you after you have answered. What I have to tell you might influence your answer," said Colonel Fitzwilliam.
"He had three cups, and before he poured the tea one of them had something in it that looked like tea leaves or the remains of what he had drank before, and he pushed it towards me, and I really did not want to drink from a cup he had drank from, or which had something in it, so I contrived to drop my spoon and kick it to under his chair so he would have to get it for me, and while he was under the table, I switched the cups."
"Mr. Collins was poisoned. He was found dead shortly after your visit,"
"He was a capital fellow," Jeremy said gravely. "A great loss for mankind. Who did humanity that favour?"
"You might have done it," Caroline said quietly. "By giving him your tea cup." It had not been proved yet, but it was very likely.
Both Mrs. Nebbet and Jeremy looked very shocked and they said nothing. Jeremy frowned. After a few minutes he spoke. "We all had tea and sugar, and the only difference were those tea leaves I had and he drank from that cup. If I had drunk from it --" he looked frightened. "Was it an accident?"
"The poison certainly was not, but Mr. Collins drinking it might have been."
"Was it meant for me?" Jeremy looked appalled.
Colonel Fitzwilliam and Caroline left the Nebbets to consider this implication and returned to Netherfield. For the moment they were satisfied. "Well?" he asked when they were back in the carriage.
"He must really be Mr. Bennet's illegitimate son. He looks like -- what is her name again? One of the Bennet girls."
"Kitty," the Colonel supplied helpfully. "I noticed that too."
"Have you been studying Kitty?" Caroline asked suspiciously. "You have only seen her once. How can you see the resemblance? Have you any interest in her?"
He closed his eyes. "Oh."
"What?" Caroline demanded uncivilly.
"I doubt that Kitty would turn a man down for the size of his house."
Part 24
Caroline looked alarmed. "Are you going to court Kitty now?"
"Now?" Colonel Fitzwilliam repeated. "You make it sound as if I have been courting other girls."
"Well..." she said in confusion.
"Or do you mean you?" he asked coolly. "No, really! I do not court anyone if I know it is all in vain. You and I --"
Caroline looked at him expectantly.
"We are merely --"
"Friends? Partners?" she said sarcastically.
He nodded.
Caroline bit her lip. She was not pleased to hear it. But...I could not possibly marry him, and he knows that. He knows that. Of course he does. That is why... He is trying to change my mind. "You are fighting dirty, Colonel Coolness," she informed him coldly. "You are heartless."
"I am not. I care deeply for my house."
She gave him a look of contempt mingled with doubt. "Like Mr. Collins? Would you murder for that shack too?"
"So you think Collins was mad enough to murder anyone who threatened his position as owner of Longbourn?"
"I certainly do."
"You knew him better than I did," said Fitzwilliam.
"Goodness, yes! I was so acquainted with the man! I tried to be in his company as little as possible, but I really think he would feel threatened. He had been aspiring to it for so long, and someone of his character and understanding could very well go mad."
"And who killed Wickham? Was that Collins too?"
"Did he not have an alibi?"
"Yes. Besides, I do not see how he could perceive Wickham as a threat," the Colonel sighed. "If Drury could but have questioned that Polly person..."
"Who is that?"
"A woman from London who knew Wickham. I ordered Drury to question her, but I forgot to ask whether he did. He did not tell me about it, so I suppose she had left the inn. If Collins's case is unconnected to Wickham's, I shall leave it to the local authorities and I shall return to London to conduct a search for Polly."
"It seems unconnected. What a dreadful ruin to have two unconnected murders in the family," Caroline sighed. "Do you think that perhaps Collins conceived of the idea because of Wickham's murder? I mean that he thought you would think the two deaths were connected and that you would not look towards him to find the murderer because he had an alibi for the first? Or that he committed the first murder to -- no, he could not have. Somebody else, then?" she frowned. "I am only making it more complicated, am I not?"
"With your second idea, you were," said Colonel Fitzwilliam thoughtfully. "Your first thought, however, deserves some more consideration."
Part 25
"We missed dinner, Colonel," said Drury, who had also just arrived at Netherfield.
"Did you get on with the investigation?" the Colonel answered.
"Yes. The doctor established that it was poison, and a kind of poison used against rats. Mr. Collins had been seeing rats around the house and he had ordered Mrs. Hill to do something, so Mrs. Hill had got the rat poison."
"Which was kept where?"
"In a little storage room, to which everybody had access, but it turned out that the Bennets did not know anything about the rats. Mrs. Hill said that Mr. Collins had forbidden her to tell the girls, because they would become hysterical if they knew there were rats about, and Mrs. Hill neglected to tell Mrs. Bennet for the same reason."
"And what about Mrs. Collins?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
"She knew about it."
"Ahh."
"No sir. I can see what you are thinking, but Mrs. Collins and Mrs. Hill were in conference all morning and unless they were in cahoots, sir, neither of them had the opportunity to go to the library and drop it into Mr. Collins's cup," said Drury. "I concluded that Mr. Collins did it himself, which is very strange, but it cannot be explained otherwise. It is unlikely that the visitors knew of the rat poison and where to find it, or that they brought their own supply, which accidentally turned out to be the same kind as the poison in the storage room. Therefore, I say we laymen cannot presume to understand the ways in which the men of the cloth act, because they have divine inspiration, I suppose. I spoke to Miss Bennet about it, because she seems to know things about it, and she said she could not believe a clergyman would kill anyone and she thought I was 'doing Mr. Collins a grave posthumous injustice.' That is what she said, sir. We had words on the subject, for she used all sorts of words I did not know, and I used words she did not know, like --"
"Yes, Drury," Fitzwilliam said warningly. "There is a lady present."
"Was it Miss Kitty you had words with?" asked Caroline. It was essential that Kitty kept a good relationship with Drury, to be out of the Colonel's way.
"Would Kitty use the words 'posthumous injustice?'" Fitzwilliam asked.
"It was Miss Mary," said Drury. "I am going to my room, Colonel, to change," he said before he could be asked to expand further on his conversation with Mary Bennet. He disappeared up the dimly lit stairs.
"Where is my room? Colonel Fitzwilliam asked. "And where are the inhabitants of this house?"
Caroline shrugged. "I told you they disliked me." The thought of losing Colonel Fitzwilliam to Kitty was depressing, and yet she had to suffer it, because she had decided that she could not want him herself. "I shall show you up, but you have been to that room this morning."
"I should lose my way if I went alone. What about dinner?"
"One minute." Caroline walked into a passage. She returned a minute later. "Would half an hour be alright? It has to be. It has been arranged now."
Assisted by her maid, Caroline had first put on a beautiful and elaborate gown, but then decided against it, for if the Colonel should fall in love with her, she would have to turn him down and she could not do that to him.
She had changed into a simple, dark-coloured gown. After she had studied herself in the mirror, she shook her head. It was not unnatural that she wished to be seen to advantage, even if she had no designs on the man. One did not usually have designs on everybody if one appeared in public in a pretty gown. It would not do any harm to look beautiful. Just for myself.
Her maid would be curious and Caroline felt very ashamed for her indecisiveness, so she had dismissed her. She had taken off the simple gown and again slipped into the beautiful one. Perhaps she would be overdressed in this one. Perhaps he would think she had changed her mind. It would not do.
While she was busy slipping out of the pretty gown again, there was a soft knock on her door. "Come in," she called, regretting it immediately, for it might well be Colonel Fitzwilliam. And it was him. He entered instantly, looking rather amazed when he beheld her with one arm out of the gown. "I should have told you not to come in," she said. "But I made a mistake."
"Do you need any assistance getting into that gown?" asked the Colonel, who observed that her movements had stopped and who ascribed this to her being stuck, not knowing that it was decency that prevented her from continuing.
"No! I want to get out of it."
"Does it not fit?"
"It fits perfectly."
"Then why do you not want to wear it?"
That was something Caroline could not explain to him. She shrugged.
"Women," he sighed. "Put that arm back in that sleeve. I am hungry and we have a long evening ahead of us. Have you any idea how much we need to write out?"
Part 26
"I apologise, Colonel," said Caroline as they walked towards the dining room.
"Why the sudden formality?" he asked.
She ignored him. "I assumed that people who knew I was changing would not knock on my door and therefore I thought you were somebody else."
"I assumed that even you would not need thirty minutes. I thought that with two minutes to spare before dinner, you would be ready. I apologise if I caused you any discomfort."
"It was not your fault, Colonel."
"Call me Richard," he begged. He did not know why he asked, but the formal address sounded so cold coming from her mouth.
"As you wish, Richard," she muttered.
Drury was already hovering near the door to the dining room. "Finally!" he exclaimed. He took in Caroline's appearance. "That is a pretty gown. What a difference from that dirty young lady in rags we picked up in the woods when we first came here! Would you not agree, Colonel?"
"Indeed," said Colonel Fitzwilliam calmly. "But back then she was still a suspect and if she had dressed in this manner, I should have been highly suspicious of her." He sat down at the table.
"Oh, why?" Caroline asked in an intrigued tone.
"It has happened before," he replied gravely. "That ladies who had committed a crime thought they could fool me by looking pretty."
"Miss Bingley," said Drury confidentially. " May I express my admiration for your gown instead? I suspect that young Lieutenant Fitzwilliam fell for a wicked, criminal lady, but that he had his heart broken because Papa the Earl would not like an imprisoned daughter-in-law. In any case, he looks upon ladies quite coldly. Although I can imagine that it would render him extremely fascinating in the eye of a lady. They are all interested in men with a past, and they are always convinced that they are the only ones who can cure his broken heart."
"I am not interested in a man's past," lied Caroline, but she was jealous anyway.
"Only in the size of his house," Colonel Fitzwilliam added.
"Exactly. We understand each other perfectly."
Drury did not understand, so he concentrated on his food when no clarification followed. The other two ate in silence too. Towards the end of the meal Jane appeared. "Is everything still according to wish?" she asked. "Forgive me for not inquiring sooner, but I had no idea you had already returned."
"Everything is fine," Caroline said.
"Shall you be joining us after dinner?"
"No, I am afraid we have a lot of work to do," said Fitzwilliam.
After dinner they retired to the library. "What do you gentlemen always do when we ladies retire?" Caroline asked.
"We comment on them," Drury said immediately. "What they wore, what they said, what they did..."
"None of that now," the Colonel warned. He prepared his papers. "I have yesterday's and today's reports to write. If I do yesterday, can you do today, Caroline?"
Caroline stared at Drury, who stared back with interest at hearing her thus addressed. "Y-Y-Yes." She sorted out today's notes and placed them in the right order.
After a long evening of writing and studying reports, Caroline was dozing off with her head on her arms when Colonel Fitzwilliam shook her awake. "It is time for some final comments before we go to bed. Any thoughts on Wickham?"
Drury nodded. "Polly...she was gone when I looked for her. Back to London, they say. And if we did not know any better, I would say Miss Bingley, who was cleared only because she is left-handed."
"I had to see him once or twice and then he would return to his home and I would never see him again," Caroline pointed out tiredly. She yawned. "There was hardly a point in killing him, with my wrong hand, at that!"
"We shall find Polly to question her then. What about Collins?" the Colonel asked.
"Ahh," Drury answered. "At first sight a complicated case. Upon closer inspection, however, I am inclined to conclude that Collins did himself in."
"Unless we find a new piece of evidence that points to the contrary, I am inclined to agree with you. Caroline?"
"I am inclined to sleep."
"We shall hand the reports concerning Collins to the local constables tomorrow," the Colonel decided. "And then we shall go to London. Drury and I, that is." He wondered if Caroline would say anything, but he really could not take her to London.
Caroline could not think of a suitable comment.
"I might not return," he ventured.
He was really going too far now. "May I have a word with you in private, Colonel?" she asked, not lifting her eyes from the table.
"I am going to bed," said Drury hastily. "Breakfast at eight, Colonel?"
Fitzwilliam nodded.
Caroline waited until Drury had left the room before she spoke again. "Were you going to leave me without so much as a thank you?"
"No, I was going to thank you in private. I regret that I have to take leave of my partner, but I cannot take you, unless -- we had that discussion before." Perhaps he was stupid not to say that he owned a handsome edifice just north east of London, but her regard for him should not have to depend on that.
Caroline forced a smile. "I assure you that I do not want to come, for I am going to visit some friends to get away from these people who dislike me here, but I should feel ill-used if you had left without thanking your partner."
"You have been very helpful, Caroline," he said earnestly.
She smiled genuinely now. "It was my pleasure, Richard. Good night. I do not think I shall see you in the morning. It is a little early." She stepped back to avoid temptation.
"Good night." When she was gone, Colonel Fitzwilliam joined the others. "I had not thought you would still be up."
"We were waiting for you," said Darcy. "We want to know what happened. We heard that Mr. Collins died."
The Colonel enlightened them by telling them the whole story. Jane and Elizabeth were very shocked to hear about the Nebbets. Especially Jane could hardly believe it. "More scandal," Elizabeth sighed. "Everybody will be shunning us, like Caroline. We were just remarking that we have not seen her since the first unpleasantness."
"She is going to Bath in two days," said Bingley. "Will you drop the Collins case, Fitzwilliam?"
"Yes, I do not think it is my concern if it is not connected to Wickham's. I have more cases, though not as urgent, but still I must return to them as soon as possible. I shall see you in London some time perhaps." Colonel Fitzwilliam handed Bingley his card. "Good night."
Part 27
"Well, Drury," said Colonel Fitzwilliam as they rode into London. "Did that Polly give you any indication of where she was from?"
"No, sir," Drury said cheerfully.
"Why not?" the Colonel said testily.
Drury guessed that his superior was not in the best of moods. Perhaps he should curb his cheerfulness a little not to upset him. A moody colonel would give him far more tedious tasks. Perhaps he would send him around all the pubs to inquire but take his money first. That would be exactly the sort of thing Fitzwilliam would do, Drury thought gloomily. Not allowing him any drinks anywhere. "Because, Colonel, I suppose she did not want to tell me."
"Where do the coaches from Meryton arrive?"
"I have never come on a coach from Meryton. You should have asked Miss Bingley, sir."
"Go inquire," Fitzwilliam nodded towards a coaching inn.
Drury rolled his eyes and went over. He returned ten minutes later. "You are in luck, sir. They arrive there."
"Well, go inquire if they can remember Polly."
"I already did, Colonel," said Drury with a triumphant look. "Why do you think I stayed away for such a long time?"
"And?"
"The Horse's Head, sir."
"What about it?"
"That is her regular workplace."
"We shall go there," Colonel Fitzwilliam decided. It was exactly the sort of place frequented by the most troublesome officers, the ones given to gaming and other vices. He saw a few officers whose cases he was also investigating because they were suspected of illegal activities come out of a house and quickly disappear when they noticed him in his red coat. "I can imagine Wickham here."
In the Horse's Head Drury inquired after Polly. After applying a little pressure he was told that she had not been in for days. "She's 'ad one customer too many," said the hostess. "Such things happen."
"What do you mean, Madam?"
"She'll be off the game for a while," the woman shrugged. "Or forever. Sometimes they purge the whole life out o' them."
"Where can we find her?"
"I don't concern myself with that. You want her, you find her."
None of the customers knew, or dared to know, where Polly was, so Fitzwilliam and Drury exited the pub without any results. "It is looking for a needle in a haystack, sir," Drury said gloomily. "Look at all the lodging houses around here. They will all protect each other because they are all involved in one illegal scheme or another and we shall never find out where Polly is hiding."
"Hmm," said the Colonel, who had made eye contact with a girl in the pub and rattled the coins in his pocket for her convenience. "We shall wait around the corner. You never know."
In their red coats they were not difficult to follow and it was not long before they were overtaken by the brazenly smiling girl from the pub. "I like officers. I'll give you a good time for a good price."
"You do not even have to exert yourself, Madam," the Colonel answered. "If you can help me out."
"I'll be hanged if I can't," the girl smiled.
"You will be rewarded handsomely."
Drury stood frozen. Was Colonel Fitzwilliam negotiating with a common lady of the street?
Back at Longbourn, Mr. Philips had made the entire family happy that morning by declaring that further male relatives were so distantly related that Longbourn fell to Mr. Bennet's eldest living daughter, Jane.
"My brother Philips, I do declare that you have saved me from a premature death," Mrs. Bennet sighed theatrically.
"He had nothing to do with it, Sister," Mrs. Philips tried to explain.
"Thank your uncle, girls."
"Thank you, Uncle Phillips," Kitty said dutifully.
"Yes, thank you! I shall move back here now, Mama," Lydia announced. "I like it infinitely better than Newcastle, though it is a pity that the regiment has moved."
"Oh Lydia!" Mrs. Bennet squealed. "Really? What a wonderful day this turns out to be!"
"And you may take care of little Clarissa, Mama. I shall have her sent here as soon as possible," said Lydia, as if Clarissa were a mere parcel and not a child.
Clarissa, as her first grandchild and her dear Lydia's girl, was very dear to Mrs. Bennet and she could not be happier.
The local authorities had received Colonel Fitzwilliam's report and they had only made brief inquiries to check if it had been correct. When it turned out that they could not shed a different light on the case, they decided to declare the case closed and pronounce Mr. Collins dead by accident.
"Wonderful!" Mrs. Bennet squealed again. "No more questionings."
"I rather liked them," Mary said sourly. "It brought some people of sense to the house." And she had liked to argue with the lieutenant. "Now we shall go back to inane conversations about officers, I expect." She decided she would ride to Netherfield, for Miss Bingley would surely know whether the lieutenant and the colonel had gone for good.
Jane and Elizabeth were curious about their half-brother and they had gone to visit him and Mrs. Nebbet. Bingley and Darcy had gone along, because their alternative was to stay at home to entertain Caroline, or to stay at Longbourn with the other ladies, who had been more or less forbidden by Mrs. Bennet to go with them.
They found Jeremy to be a likeable boy, and because he looked so much like Kitty, they readily believed that he was indeed related to them. The generous Bingleys immediately decided that he should not suffer for Mr. Bennet's mistakes. Bingley promised that he would draw up a nice settlement.
When they returned to Longbourn for tea, they found that Hill had returned from Meryton with some interesting gossip concerning Miss Bingley.
Part 28
"What is your name?" Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.
"Belle."
"Take me somewhere private where we can be alone, Belle." He motioned for Drury to go away.
Drury eyed him sympathetically. The man is trying to forget Miss Bingley. Really, Colonel. This is not the way. Did you have words with her last night? He had wondered why they had been able to leave without Miss Bingley waving them off. He had fully expected tearful embraces, or at least an engagement. Are there no expectations in that quarter? He had not dared to ask, fearing the Colonel's mood, which had indeed been rather bad.
"Follow me," said Belle.
Colonel Fitzwilliam followed her into a dirty alley full of stray cats and dogs. There was no gutter and all the waste lay rotting on the street. He grimaced as he observed the side of town that he did not often see. There were not yet any beggars huddling in doorways because they were still out at work, but he did not doubt that more than a few resided here.
Belle opened a door halfway down the alley and beckoned him in. "My landlady has an entrance up front at the respectable side. We'll be as private as we can get." Her room at the top of the stairs was tiny and crowded. She motioned towards the bed, but he preferred to remain on his feet, for he did not trust it to be very clean and he had no desire to get fleas.
"Why are you standing?"
"Keep that thing on," he advised her when she showed signs of wanting to get undressed.
"You're a peculiar one."
"I want a few answers."
"No business?" Belle placed her hands on her hips. "I don't talk, but you got to pay anyway. You're bound by honour as soon as you agree to come with me."
If this were not a serious situation, he would laugh. "I shall pay."
"You'd better," she threatened. "I have friends looking out for me."
"Is one of them called Polly?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Anyway, I wouldn't betray friends so it's useless to ask me questions. So pay and leave."
Colonel Fitzwilliam silently placed a handful of coins on the shabby table.
Belle counted the money. "Maybe I do," she said shrewdly, thinking that perhaps she could make a nice deal here and relieve the gentleman of the greater part of his money.
"I want to ask her a few questions about a man called Wickham." He saw she recognised the name. "You know him."
"Maybe. Maybe not."
"Enough of that," he said sharply. "Or I shall take you in for indecent behaviour and for picking my pockets."
"I haven't picked your pockets! You can't."
"The word of a gentleman against yours?" the Colonel said coolly. "You will be arrested for anything I accuse you of. Picking my pockets is a mere trifle compared to some other things I could say."
Belle did not consider this to be an unethical thing to do. She quite understood. "I know Wickham. Who don't?"
"Tell me what you know."
"That will cost you more."
"Just answer me," he replied, taking out the knife Caroline had been so afraid of, and studying it intently. He had no intention of using it, but perhaps Belle thought differently.
"He comes to the Horse's Head for a little gaming now and then. That's all I know."
"I think not."
"It's all I can tell you. It's Polly that did business with him, not me."
"Your kind of business?" the Colonel asked.
"I don't know. You ask her. Or him."
"Wickham is dead."
"That swine!" Belle cried. "He owes me five pounds."
"Where can I find Polly?"
Belle got up without speaking and opened the door. "Polly?" She shouted.
Mary Bennet did not ride very well, and she had only learnt it to save time for more rewarding pursuits, so when she arrived at Netherfield she was aching all over.
"Miss Bingley," she made an awkward curtsey. "I have come to --" But she could not clearly explain what she had come for.
Caroline had no idea what to do with Mary Bennet, so she waited.
"My family have just heard that Jane has inherited Longbourn. Miss Bingley, do you know if the officers are to return? I have some questions."
"We all have questions, girl," Caroline sighed. "And some of them just refuse to be answered."
"I have not yet discovered our true reason for being," Mary said seriously, hoping that at last there would be a soul she could discuss this with. "It vexes me greatly. I have studied a great many texts on the subject --"
"Have you studied anything with regard to why we like certain people we should not like?" Caroline interrupted.
Mary looked alarmed that there seemed to be a field of study that she had not yet ventured into. "I do not like any people I should not like, so I did not search for it."
"Oh." Caroline straightened her gown. "Well, I do not think you should think too much upon those subjects that seem to occupy you. And you should not read about them either. How dull! Good people do not live any longer than bad people. Go and read a novel, dear."
"I pride myself on never reading novels. They are all silly and unrealistic."
"A story in which the...heroine...is lost in a forest and the hero -- dashing hero -- rescues her..." Caroline began. "But they cannot marry because he has a --"
"He has a mad wife. Oh Lord," Mary sighed. "Speak no more! Is that not the epitome of silliness? That is why I much prefer the bishop's pamphlets."
"What does a bishop write about?"
Mary seemed shocked that Caroline did not know. "Well, morality! And all the great men write basically the same, so I am modelling my behaviour on that, because it follows that it must be right."
"Are they basically copying each other?" Caroline asked maliciously. She had no doubts about what the great men would think of her behaviour.
Mary was too indignant to speak.
"What gives them the right to judge, I wonder, when they have never been in such a situation?"
"They are learned men. You should read --"
"Even if they study a hundred thousand books, all their knowledge would not help them one bit when feelings take over. So there. I shall not read anything they write. I know I am not bad. I am not bad. I am not bad." If she said it often enough she might come to believe it.
"Miss Bingley spent two nights at the inn in a room reserved by the Colonel," Hill announced, proud that she had some news and a large audience to share it with. "He had her at gunpoint all the time, because apparently she was a dangerous suspect."
"At gunpoint?" Darcy dared to question the truthfulness of this piece of Meryton gossip. He could not imagine his cousin sitting by Miss Bingley's bedside with a gun, or keeping her up all night to be able to point a gun at her.
"Yes, sir. One of the chambermaids heard it from the Colonel himself."
Part 29
Caroline's conversation with Mary had convinced her that some people would think she was really wicked, so she was resolved to go to Bath as soon as possible. Bath was a more liberally-minded place, if ever people there would find out about the murders and the consecutive events. Besides, nobody there would mention Colonel Fitzwilliam. For her own peace of mind she should not think about him.
The others had not said much about the rumours. Despite the fact that Caroline had not even known that Fitzwilliam had had a gun, she immediately admitted it to be true. Obviously something had leaked out and this thing about the gun was relatively innocent. "But it is a gross exaggeration that he pointed his gun at me the whole night. Did you think he would not eventually discover that I was innocent? By the way, I am leaving for Bath tomorrow."
"Tomorrow?" Bingley asked in surprise. "I thought you were going in two days."
"Will you miss me tomorrow?" Caroline said as if she knew the answer would be negative.
"Now Caroline, you must not think that --"
"Oh, stop it. First, you did not defend me when they practically said I was guilty of murder -- why else would I be guarded so heavily? -- but you actually believed it. Such faith in your own sister! And second, nobody should tell me what I should think or do, because I dislike preaching of any sort. I am my own judge. Do not think I was begging for sympathy -- I was just being realistic."
"Well, if you insist. Are you in a bad mood?"
Polly wanted to run off when she saw Colonel Fitzwilliam, but he was quick to prevent her from doing so. "Let me go!" she shouted.
"Not yet. Sit," he ordered.
Polly took a seat on her bed while he stood leaning against the door, barring her way out. Belle watched it all with interest, being glad that she was not the chased one for once.
"Tell me what you were doing in Hertfordshire."
Polly shrugged. "Not much."
"How much?"
"I looked for business."
"You left rather quickly, though. Did Wickham's death scare you?" the Colonel asked. "I have it on good authority that you only stayed there for three days."
"Yes. So?"
"But you did not pick up any business in those three days."
"How would you know?"
"People would have told me. Especially the chambermaids would know if any business went on at the inn and if any gentlemen were seen near your room." He realised that the same would apply to ladies and wondered briefly if anyone had seen Caroline have dinner in his room, but he quickly pushed the thought of her out of his mind, for it would not at all do in the middle of an interrogation.
"My business is respectable."
"Of course. You came for money, I understand."
"Maybe."
"No, not maybe. You happen to have told my lieutenant that you would like a share of Wickham's money." This feat of Drury's impressed him, now that he saw how eager Polly was to share information. Perhaps the young man deserved a promotion in the future.
"I must have been drunk. We all know Wickham has no money," Polly snapped.
The Colonel motioned with his head and Belle left the room. He did not need her if he needed to apply a little pressure. "Are you going to tell me?"
"No. I don't see why."
"You would like to be convicted for murder," he stated. "Fine."
"No, I don't."
"You might be if you cannot prove that you did not do it."
"I can't. I did it." Polly looked at him defiantly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam did not cheer too soon. This sudden and cool change from evading his questions to downright admitting the murder was too suspicious. He said nothing and waited for her to elaborate.
"It was self-defence."
"Really?"
"Really."
"I should have expected you to be a little more affected by it all."
"Why? He was a swine. Nobody would have blamed me if it had happened in a full public room. Look, sir," she slowly walked towards him with a calculating expression in her eyes. "Can't we make a deal here?"
He removed her hand from his shoulder with a disgusted expression and turned her wrist. He did not appreciate women who preyed upon him in that manner.
"Ouch!" she exclaimed and tried to free her wrist.
"Self-defence? I do not believe you."
Part 30
" I do not believe you," Colonel Fitzwilliam repeated.
"Why not? It's the truth, I swear," Polly said.
"I does not convince me."
"Well, what don't you believe?"
"I do not believe this sudden confession. It does not make sense, psychologically." He wondered if she knew the word.
"Why not? I might get off with self-defence, you know."
"Why do you not start with telling me why you had to defend yourself," he said sceptically.
"Well, because he attacked me, that's why."
"Why did he attack you?"
"Because he was angry with another woman. He tried something with her, but she didn't bite, I suppose. She ran off, in any case."
"Oh, you saw her?" Fitzwilliam assumed she was talking about Caroline.
"Yes. But she didn't see me."
"Where were you?"
"I was hiding myself, because I wanted a word with him in private."
"Explain."
"I had seen him pass through Meryton so I had gone after him, but he walked so fast that I could not catch up, until I came upon him and that woman."
"What were they doing?" the Colonel asked.
"They were just standing there and she turned away from him. He said something to her, because she looked back and then she walked the other way, but he overtook her and blocked her way. She looked frightened. I hid in the undergrowth and looked on. I suppose he said something to her again, because she stepped back. She tripped and fell and I heard him laugh, and then she got up and ran in my direction very fast. He pursued her until he came past me and I jumped out from behind the bush.
'What are you doing here,' he said quite viciously. 'There goes my money.'
'Your money?' I asked. 'What about mine. You owe me.'
'Forget that,' he said. 'You're not getting anything.'
But he owed me, so I wasn't going to give up. 'You forget what sordid tales I can tell about you, Wicky,' I said to him and he laughed.
'But you won't now, will you, Polly?' He smiled very charmingly. 'Such a good girl as you?'
'I'm sure Mrs. Wickham would appreciate it if I told her --' I began to say and then he came towards me and I drew a knife, meaning to threaten him, but he came too near and I stabbed when he grabbed me. Then he fell. I suppose he was dead. I didn't bother to check. I went back to the inn."
Colonel Fitzwilliam listened to her without interrupting. It sounded very plausible and yet he could not shake off a doubt at this all too easy confession. There was also something else about her story that nagged at him, but he did not know yet what it was. Possibly it had to do with Caroline's version of events. He would have to check up on that. "Why are you telling me this so willingly?"
Polly shrugged. "I'm not stupid. I know you won't leave me alone until I say something, and you're going to have me arrested for murder anyway, because you probably don't have anyone else. I know the judges are more merciful towards women who act in self-defence."
"Who can prove that?"
"I'm not lying. Why would I say I killed him if I didn't?" Polly asked.
"You might have killed him in cold blood."
"And not get my money? Honestly, sir!" she cried. "That is as silly as stealing something and then throwing it away -- not that I steal," she said hastily. "He is nothing to me dead, but when he was alive he was my eight pounds, and with prospects of more, since I was going to try and unload my misfortunes upon him, if you understand my meaning, sir."
"I do not."
"I was going to tell him he was the father of my child and demand an allowance."
"And was he?"
"He might have been, but then again, he might not. It was worth a try. I have to try elsewhere now," Polly said with a hint of hopelessness.
It all sounded so hard-hearted and scheming that the Colonel did not know if he could believe it. "I must take you into custody," he said. "Let us go." He wanted to get it over with. It was late and he was hungry. After taking care of all the formalities, he contemplated going to his barracks to see what had happened in his absence, but he knew he would still be there at midnight if he did, so he went to his club to have dinner. Luckily enough there were some more late diners. Mr. Percy and Mr. Godfrey shared his table. All three of them frequently dined late.
"I have not seen you for a while, Fitzwilliam," Percy remarked.
"I was working on a case," the Colonel replied. "But it seems to be solved." He still was not too certain about it.
"Hurrah," said Godfrey. "That calls for a drink after dinner." Almost anything called for a drink after dinner in his opinion.
"You have not missed much," Percy informed him. "I am glad you are returned, though. I was afraid that I would have to dine alone now that Benny is off to Bath to find a remedy for his debts."
"Bath?" Fitzwilliam asked in a disconcerted tone. He knew Benny had tried many things to get rid of his debts and that none had worked. He feared that Lord Bennington would seek to settle his debts by marrying a woman of fortune and he happened to know that exactly such a lady was going to Bath.
"Had you needed him for anything?" Percy asked in wonder.
"N-N-No. I merely wondered -- do you think Benny will try to find himself a rich wife?" Lord Bennington was universally liked -- by the ladies because he was charming and gallant, and by the gentlemen because he was generous with his money and adventurous. Fitzwilliam, however, interpreted these character traits differently. He knew Benny to be a careless, penniless, reckless, gaming and skirt-chasing drinker. Would Caroline know all that? Would she care? Would she like him? Would she be fooled? Would she be attracted by his having an estate?
"Are you dense, Fitz?" Percy asked. "Why else? Let me tell you a secret -- the poor chap can barely afford the trip!"
Fitzwilliam was very concerned and he was very quiet for the remainder of the meal. To prevent his becoming jealous, he told himself that she deserved Benny if she really cared only for appearances. He began to enumerate her bad qualities. Caroline is proud, conceited, arrogant, stupid, vain, superficial, proud, conceited, arrogant, stupid, vain, superficial, proud...
When he arrived home he had recovered his spirits tolerably well, although he could not feel completely at ease, what with the outcome of the case. He hung up his coat. I should not live here with a woman. I do not nearly have enough coat hangers. First he went into his study, where he leafed through his reports and notes to have another look at Caroline's statement.
There it was. The thing he had been looking for. He followed me for a while.
But according to Polly it had not been very long, because she had heard him laugh so she could not have been far off, and he had given up the chase as soon as he had seen Polly. When Caroline had said 'a while' he had supposed it had been at least a few minutes.
Besides... He looked at the little map he had drawn of Meryton and surroundings. Caroline had met Wickham close to Netherfield, she said. But if Polly had killed him, it would have been there as well, and she would have had to drag him through the woods to the place he had been found, which was nearly three miles away.
The statements did not support one another. Now who is lying?
Colonel Fitzwilliam rested his head in his hands and felt even more wretched than before. He was tempted to say it had been Polly, but the need for objectivity compelled him to consider both. Only he did not want to. He decided to go to bed to put the case out of his mind for the moment, but even his bedchamber reminded him, for it had been tidied miraculously. He stood frowning at first and wondered if Mrs. Davis, his neighbour whom he rented from, had come in to clean. But he dismissed the thought. True, she had a key, but if Mrs. Davis had a tidying mood, she would be more likely to attempt the study and not something as private as a bedchamber. The only one who had been in there was Caroline when he had sent her to fetch him some more clothes.
Would a murderess tidy the investigator's bedchamber to mislead him? Or to flatter him?
Could a murderess have an obsession with neatness and yet use something as messy as a knife?
Would a murderess go so far as to roam the woods and draw attention to her having been there? Attention which would otherwise not have been drawn?
Would a murderess...I just want to know if she slept in my bed!
Part 31
Colonel Fitzwilliam was up very early, but further questioning of Polly did not make her change her statement. When he gave up, he found Drury waiting for him and he sent him in to try it as well.
"What did she say?" he asked as Drury came out.
"She gave me the same answers as you had written down here. I tried to vary the questions a little, but she stuck to her story," said Drury. "Where did you find Polly? You went with another woman yesterday."
"Would you mind keeping your voice down?" the Colonel asked tersely when a few other officers in the hall gave him curious stares.
"Sure, Colonel." Drury caught a few inquiring glances from his friends and saw he would have much to explain in the Mess tonight.
"She sticks to her story and yet her story does not match Miss Bingley's."
"And Miss Bingley could never be a liar," Drury agreed.
"Please do not mention her."
"Excuse me, Colonel. I believe you mentioned her first," Drury said indignantly as he followed his superior who strode down the hall with great paces. "But look on the bright side. You might have the opportunity to question her again." Fitzwilliam scowled and Drury grimaced. "Bad idea? You did not part on friendly terms?"
"I sent Peterson out to inquire among Wickham's acquaintances."
"Why not us, Colonel?"
"We have to think."
"Where?"
"Let us go for a walk. I can think better when I am walking and I have to buy some things as well." They discussed the case as they strolled across town.
"What if Polly is protecting someone, sir?" Drury asked when they arrived at the Colonel's house, to where they were driven by the approaching rain clouds.
Fitzwilliam paused with his hand on the doorknob. "It could be." He stood thinking as he considered the idea. Drury reached past him and pushed the door open when he felt the first drops fall.
"Colonel?" and elderly lady appeared in a neighbouring doorway. "There was a lady here a few days ago when you were away. She had the key to your house and I believe she spent the night."
"I know, Mrs. Richardson."
"Oh," said the lady, obviously curious. "I did not do anything because she had a key, but I did see her take out a trunk."
"I know, Mrs. Richardson."
"Well...then I suppose it was alright."
"Thank you for your concern, Mrs. Richardson," the Colonel said politely. "I must go in now if I do not want to get soaked." He bowed and stepped inside.
"Ooooo," said Drury. "A lady? Too bad you were away, eh?"
Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed and suppressed the desire to box Drury around the ears. He walked into his small kitchen.
"Really Colonel," Drury continued in a more serious tone. "If you wish to have a serious man-to-man conversation about your problem, I am your man."
"I shall keep it in mind," mumbled the Colonel as he cut some bread. "I swear I had biscuits. Where did they go?"
"I have no idea," said Drury, stealing two pieces of bread when the Colonel turned to take the kettle off the fire. "Perhaps Miss Bingley ate them. If she, as your curious neighbour says, stayed the night, do you not think she must have needed something to eat?"
Fitzwilliam sighed in exasperation and cut himself another slice of bread when he found that the two pieces he had cut were gone.
"I am sure she loved them if they are all gone. It is a compliment," Drury said reassuringly. "But I shall not remind you of her if you are not in the mood. I shall be very professional and ignore your obvious preoccupation --" He frowned as he watched the Colonel stare very confusedly at the kettle as if he did not know what he had planned with it. "Who do you think Polly could be protecting?"
"I have no idea. Can you not find out?"
"You were in her room, Colonel. Not me."
"This is not my best investigation ever," Fitzwilliam grumbled. "I miss too much."
"We can go back to her lodgings and have a look around," Drury suggested. "After you made us tea with the water in that kettle."
They turned Polly's room upside down and found a few documents they took up for closer study. Among the papers were a few letters from someone who signed his name as 'J' only.
"Shall we ask her who J is, Drury?" the Colonel asked. "He seems to write her a personal kind of letters, as if he knows her very well."
"He also seems to be a criminal," Drury commented, reading another of the letters. "Look here. A detailed description of all he stole and his plans to swindle people."
Suddenly they heard footsteps running down the stairs. Fitzwilliam got to the head of the stairs just in time to see a grey figure shoot out into the alley. He practically jumped down the stairs and took up the chase. The suspect was quick and agile, but he had the disadvantage of being short and having engaged in many vices which hindered his endurance, whereas Colonel Fitzwilliam was taller and healthier. He soon closed the gap and managed to grab the man by his coat, whereupon the man fell to the ground and the Colonel saw no other option but to fall on top of him to prevent his crawling away.
Drury soon came to the wrestling pair and handcuffed the suspect, but not before the Colonel had received several elbows and knees in his ribs and eyes. He blinked and rubbed his eye while he inspected his appearance. He was quite dirty now.
Part 32
They took the man in grey with them for questioning. Surely he would have a guilty conscience, considering that he ran off. The thing was now to find out what he was guilty of exactly. He had obviously been listening at the door and Colonel Fitzwilliam suspected that he had something to do with the letters, for when they had spoken of them, the man had run away. Luckily Drury had brought those so they did not have to return for them.
The man was left in the care of Sergeant Wilkes while they prepared for the interrogation by brushing off their uniforms -- or changing them in the Colonel's case. "Is he J?" Drury asked.
"I wonder what name he will give," Fitzwilliam replied. He first examined the objects the suspect had carried on him. Among them was a dangerous-looking knife. "Hmm. And nothing that can point us to his identity?"
"Nothing," said the Sergeant. "A little money and some tools, but no papers."
Two hours later they exited the small cell with rumbling stomachs, but with very little information. Apparently the suspect was no novice to being questioned, for he did not batter an eyelid and he remained untalkative.
"We are not really in luck with our suspects, are we, Drury?" asked the Colonel when they were seated behind a steaming bowl of soup. From the other side of the room the voices and laughter of their fellow officers drifted towards them. Most of them had finished their meals long ago and were now enjoying a drink. He looked towards them. They seemed to have a lot of fun. "After dinner -- or is this supper? -- I shall go back to my office to write out a report."
"Will you need me, Colonel?" asked Drury, who would much rather stay in the Mess. Everybody seemed to have a lot of fun tonight.
"No, I do not think that will be necessary."
"I beg to disagree," said Drury firmly.
Colonel Fitzwilliam looked up in surprise.
"I do not think it will be wholesome for you to sit in your office all by yourself. You would probably still be here tomorrow morning with a splitting headache from drinking."
"I was not planning on drinking."
"But I bet you were not planning on falling for the wood nymph either when we picked her up in that wretched condition with her gown all torn," said Drury shrewdly. "The best plans go awry."
Fitzwilliam said nothing.
"What? No denial?" Drury said jubilantly.
His superior smiled. "Indeed. I do not deny that perhaps I might drink a little."
"Well, then I suggest that you do it here, with us."
Caroline arrived in Bath and her friend Miss Copeland, whom she was staying with, suggested that taking a walk would be agreeable after spending so much time in one attitude in the carriage and so the two ladies set off together. It was not long before they came to the river and they paused on the bridge, looking down at the water.
"I can see why you are glad that you are here, Caro," Miss Copeland shuddered when she had heard the story of the murders. "There are no deaths in Bath. Everyone behaves civilly and dies at their estate."
"Good," said Caroline, looking at the water passing under her and listening to the sound it made. This was an excellent place to think. She must come back here alone some time.
"Oh, I see some friends across the street," said Miss Copeland and waved at them. "Would you mind my crossing the street to talk to them for a second?"
"Not at all." Caroline returned her attention to the river. She replayed the events of the past few days in her mind. Suddenly she was interrupted by a male voice.
"Why is such a fair lady out here all alone with such a sad look upon her face? Would it help to talk to a stranger? I hope you are not thinking of jumping, because then I must earnestly beg you to reconsider. My clothes, you know."
Caroline stared at the man in some confusion. "I beg your pardon?"
"I hope you are not jumping."
"Jumping?"
"Into the river. It happens. You looked a little displeased with life, Madam."
"I assure you, I am not displeased with life," Caroline answered, still a little confused.
"Really? Why then is it that you do not look cheerful?"
"How do I look then?" she demanded. The man really had no business asking her about her state of mind, but nobody ever asked her, really, and sometimes she needed it.
"You look as if there is something on your mind."
"Do we not all have something on our minds?" she asked pensively.
"Go easy on the Colonel, Fred," said Drury to the man pouring the drinks. "He has been crossed in love and crossed in his case."
Fitzwilliam looked none too pleased at this disclosure, especially when half of the bystanders overheard and quickly spread the news to the other half.
"Lieutenant," said a major sharply. "May I remind you that you are speaking of a superior officer?"
"The Major is afraid that Drury will disclose his secrets," snickered a captain. "We are off duty, Major."
"Crossed in your case, sir?" asked one of the younger officers, who was desirous of a promotion. "Who is crossing you?"
"Oh, who cares, Potter!" cried another. "It is women that we are interested in. What did she look like?"
"Did? She is not dead!" Fitzwilliam blurted out and regretted it instantly. He had just admitted to his men and to himself that there had indeed been a woman who had made some impression on him. Perhaps there was something wrong with his health, he thought as he had another spell of faintness.
The bystanders unanimously advanced by a step and subdued gasps, snickers and cheers were heard. "Where is she then?" somebody asked.
"I am glad you would listen," said Caroline.
The gentleman bowed. "Lord Bennington at your service, Madam. Benny for friends."
Caroline curtseyed. "Caroline Bingley."
"May I inquire where you are staying?"
She pointed towards the end of the bridge. "The first to the left. Number 25."
His face lit up in animation. "With Miss Copeland?"
"Do you know her?" Caroline asked in surprise.
"Why, certainly. I am staying at number 27. We are neighbours."
Part 33
"She is in Bath," said the Colonel gloomily.
The men were sympathetically silent for a minute. "But I am going to Bath tomorrow," Captain Johnson cried out. "Describe her, and if you will, and I shall pass on your regards."
"What are you going to do in Bath?" he asked jealously.
"But sir..." said Johnson in confusion. "You granted me a leave last week. I am going to take the waters for my health. I told you."
"Oh."
"Would you want me to pass her a message, sir?"
"Yes. No. That will not be necessary."
"Colonel?" several men cried. "Why not?"
"Because we do not intend to become more than --"
"Pass her a fake message, Johnson," the Major advised. "It is imperative that we know what she looks like."
"We have no intention of --" Fitzwilliam tried to finish his sentence, but failed to drown out his men. "This is gross insubordination," he eventually concluded lamely. "But while you are there, you might as well ask her to consider a speedy return to London, for I am in need of -- no, I shall --"
"In need of what, Colonel?" somebody called out with a chuckle. "Oh, I know," he poked his neighbour.
"I shall give you a package that you must give to her," Fitzwilliam said, thinking that he would send her a little something he had bought.
"Oh, Lord Bennington!" said Miss Copeland when she returned to Caroline. "What a coincidence to see you here."
"Indeed, Miss Copeland. Are you going out or going home?"
"We were taking a walk."
"But we have not got very far yet," said Caroline.
"So I see. Would you object to my joining you?" Lord Bennington asked politely. When the ladies negatived this, he offered each an arm and they set off along the river. "I hope you are taking Miss Bingley to the assemblies, Miss Copeland. She has been dreadfully bothered by deaths. She is in need of cheering up, I think."
"Oh, would everybody not pity the dear girl?" Miss Copeland cried out. "How absolutely disgusting. I declare I should faint upon seeing a dead body. Of course I shall take Miss Bingley everywhere. Oh, Caro! The town is simply filled with nice people. Everybody is here."
They walked until the next bridge and walked back through town. Caroline did not see anybody she knew, although Miss Copeland seemed to know quite a few. She found Lord Bennington agreeable company. He was an entertaining conversationalist and he seemed to know quite a lot about the history of the town.
"Well, what do you think of our charming neighbour?" Miss Copeland asked as soon as they were inside. "Is he not handsome?"
"He seems very agreeable."
"Oh, he is! He is very generous and amiable. And he participates in carriage races."
"What are those?"
"It is a sport among the young men," Miss Copeland divulged. "They race each other from town to town. It is terribly exciting."
Colonel Fitzwilliam had worked all through the night to finish the reports. He told himself there was nothing else to do anyway. He could go home to his empty house, but it would be dreadfully lonely there.
He had enclosed a note and a copy of her statement within the package, requesting Caroline to check her statement and revise it if necessary. The note was the reason for sending her something. The package was an extra. It was taking advantage of the fact that he had to send her a note. "I had to send it anyway. I might as well include the package," he said out loud in the empty building. He looked at the clock. In a minute the sergeant on duty would come around for his hourly inspection, so he would wait for that before stretching out on his couch.
"Morning, Colonel," said the most punctual sergeant a minute later. "Still at work?"
"I have just finished and will try to sleep now."
"Alright, Colonel. I shall take care not to disturb you in an hour."
"Thank you."
Part 34
Colonel Fitzwilliam had ordered his best interrogator to work on their prisoner. In the few days it took to obtain any result, he went about his usual business of supervising cases, reporting to other regiments, and attending military courts.
He knew enough time had passed to be able to hope for a reply from Caroline when he entered the officer's mess one day. Nothing had come yet, however, and he wondered if it ever would. But she had to return the statements, he reminded himself as he absentmindedly took his place in the queue. Some officers in front of him were discussing something, but he did not pay attention.
"Colonel?" said one of them. "Have you heard the latest news about Captain Johnson?"
"No, I have not."
"His carriage ran into a ditch when his horses were frightened by a pig. Johnson got himself a concussion and he is now being nursed back to health by a farmer's daughter in Berkshire."
Colonel Fitzwilliam uttered something ungentlemanlike. He had no time to dwell on the thought, for his attention was claimed by Nelson, his best interrogator. "I broke him, sir. He has confessed." The meal was forgotten and from then on the case was wrapped up very rapidly, if the writing of the reports was not counted.
The prisoner was called Jack, and he had an obscure relation to Polly. When she had gone to Hertfordshire, he had become jealous and followed her. He had seen Wickham take certain liberties with her that Jack either considered to belong to himself alone, or considered to require money in return, and this had angered him. He had followed Wickham and confronted him, but Wickham had laughed at him. One thing had led to another and they had struggled. Jack had been the handiest with a knife and he won, as he put it.
Colonel Fitzwilliam sighed as he wrote a little note to inform his cousin of the outcome. He could, of course, direct it to Mrs. Bennet or any other of the single ladies now occupying Longbourn House, but he did not want his intentions to be misconstrued. He did not much like the end of a case. It always happened so quickly and then the only thing to remind him of it was a folder in the archive. He hoped it would be different now, but that would all depend on Caroline. Perhaps he would see her again some time.
The End
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Weak Conclusion, I Know
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To Be Followed By:
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Coming Soon.