Murder at Mansfield Park

When the door had closed behind the two gentlemen, Maddox directed her to a chair beside the fire, and took one facing her. It might have been accident, or design, but the seat he had chosen afforded him a clear view of her face in the light from the window, while his own features remained shadowed and obscure.

"Now, Miss Crawford," he began. "I am most grateful for your assistance in this sad affair. I am sure you are as anxious as any body to have it elucidated."

"I will do anything in my power to help."

"Quite so, quite so. Perhaps you might begin, then, by giving me your impressions of the corpse. In your own words, of course."

This was not what she had expected — in so far as she had expected anything — and she sat for a moment without speaking, wondering how, and where, to commence. She was aware that Maddox was eyeing her closely all the while, but before she had the chance to begin her relation, he took matters into his own hands.

"Perhaps it might expedite the business if I began by putting one or two questions of my own?"

Mary blushed in spite of herself; she had not thought to find an intellectual superior in such a man as this, but he already had the advantage of her.

"If you would be so good. I have no experience of such things, and do not know what, precisely, you wish to ascertain."

"Quite so. I would have been astonished if it had been otherwise," he replied with what he clearly believed to be an affable smile. "As far as I have been informed, Miss Price met her death as the result of an accident."

Mary shook her head. "That is simply not possible. Such injuries could not have been sustained in a simple fall."

"You say injuries, in the plural.Was that deliberate?"

Mary looked at him archly. "I am always most precise in my use of words, Mr Maddox. You may take it that what I say, I mean."

He bowed. "I am glad to hear it. Indeed, I wish more of my witnesses demonstrated such precision of thought. So, we may conclude her assailant inflicted more than one blow?"

Mary nodded. "Six, or seven, in my estimation."

"You saw evidence of that?"

"Not at first, but once I had washed the blood and dirt away, several distinct wounds became clearly visible. They were all close together on the left side."

Maddox sat back in his chair, and joined his finger-tips under his chin. "So there was a great deal of blood," he said thoughtfully, before continuing in a louder tone, "and what sort of blows, do you imagine, might have produced those wounds?"

Mary frowned. "I do not take your meaning."

"Were they, for instance, caused by the blade of a knife?"

"Oh, I see. No, it was most definitely not a knife. It must have been much thicker and heavier than that. But with a pointed edge."

"Like a hammer, would you say?"

Mary considered for a moment. "Yes. That would be possible. something of that kind. There was also a mark on the right-hand side of the face, but that was little more than a bruise."

Maddox smiled again. "Excellent. You are a most observant young woman, Miss Crawford. Just as Mr Bertram said you were. Now, shall we pursue the same fertile train?"

It was not a very happy turn of speech, but Mary had already perceived that she would do well to keep her private opinions to herself, in the presence of the watchful Mr Maddox.

"Were there any other marks or blemishes on the body, Miss Crawford," he continued, "that particularly engaged your notice?"

Mary’s feelings had been in such a tumult, that she could not have articulated a sensible answer, had the same question been put to her on the spot; but now, under the influence of his questions, her mind was becoming calm, and her recollections exactly defined.

"I did notice her hands."

"Her hands?"

Mary nodded slowly. "Miss Price was always rather vain of her hands. But her finger-nails were broken, and there was mud under them. And there were cuts on both her palms."

"And you concluded from this?"

Mary could not remember concluding anything at all at the time, but she found herself replying before she was aware, "I suppose it is possible that she attempted to defend herself."

"Quite so, quite so. That is very likely, I should say."

"There was also the question of the clothes," continued Mary, hesitatingly.

"Go on."

"She was wearing a very handsome pelisse, trimmed with fur, which I believe had been given to her by her uncle, just before he left for Cumberland. And underneath that, a white muslin gown. Her boots, also, were of very fine leather — "

Maddox waved his hand. "I am sure all this is most fascinating for you young ladies, but — "

"If you would allow me to finish Mr Maddox, I was going on to say that her boots were caked in mud. They were not designed for walking any great distance, but I believe that is what she must have done. The weather had lately been very wet."

"I see — "

"Moreover, the front of the gown was stained with mud. In particular, there were two large dark patches on the skirt."

It was Maddox’s turn to look bewildered.