Lynn Shepherd - Murder at Mansfield Park

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Murder at Mansfield Park
Mansfield Park
Mansfield Park
Formerly Austen's meekest heroine, Fanny Price has become not only an heiress to an extensive fortune but also a heartless, scheming minx. Hiding her true character behind a demure facade, Fanny is indeed betrothed to Edmund, now Mrs Norris's stepson; but do the couple really love each other? Henry and Mary Crawford arrive in the country ready to wreak havoc with their fast city ways, but this time Henry Crawford is troubled by a suspicious past while his sister, Mary, steps forward in the best Austen style to become an unexpected heroine.
Meanwhile, tragedy strikes the safe and solid grand house as it becomes the scene of violence. Every member of the family falls under suspicion and the race begins to halt a ruthless murderer.
Funny and sharp,
is simply a delight to read.

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"I do not understand — "

"Fear not," he said cheerfully, already some yards ahead of her. "It will all become clear, soon enough."

When the footmen threw open the doors Mary was startled to see that the whole family was assembled, with the sole exception of Julia Bertram. Lady Bertram and her elder daughter were sitting silently on the sopha; Mrs Norris was in her customary chair; Edmund stood by the French windows, his back to the company; and Tom Bertram was standing before the fire, his hands behind his back, in just such a position as his father might have assumed. All were wearing deep mourning, which only served to add to the portentous mood of the room.

Mary turned at once to Maddox. "There must be some mistake — you cannot require my presence here — "

"On the contrary, Miss Crawford," he said, taking her firmly by the arm, "I have a question I must put to everyone at Mansfield, and it will save a good deal of time if I may ask you that question now, rather than being compelled to make a separate journey to the parsonage later in the day."

"Very well," said Mary. She knew she must look as confused and perplexed as any of them, and with an attempt at self-possession that was far indeed from her true state of mind, she walked silently towards the sopha, and sat down next to Maria.

Maddox assumed a place in the centre of the room, and began to pace thoughtfully up and down the carpet; his mind seemed elsewhere, but he could hardly be unaware of the eyes fixed upon him, or the painful apprehension his behaviour was occasioning. Mary looked on, conscious of the variety of emotions which, more or less disguised, seemed to animate them all: Maria seemed concerned to affect an appearance of haughty indifference, while a dull grief was discernible in her mother’s face; Tom Bertram looked serious, and Mrs Norris furious and resentful; of Edmund’s humour she could not judge.

"May I begin by thanking you for your prompt compliance with my request for an audience this morning," Maddox began, in a manner that was perfectly easy and unembarrassed."As I have been explaining to Miss Crawford, I have just now received certain most interesting information. We have, at last, a witness." He stopped a moment, as if to ensure that his announcement would produce the greatest possible effect.

"Miss Price was seen by a local man, at the back gate to Mansfield, three mornings ago, some time between eight and nine o’clock. Since she never reached the Park, I believe we may safely presume that she met her death at, or around, that time."

There was a general consternation at this: Edmund turned abruptly round, his face drawn in shock and dismay; Maria gasped; and Lady Bertram drew out her handkerchief and began to cry quietly. Mary was, perhaps, the only one with sufficient presence of mind to observe Maddox at this moment, and she saw at once that he was equally intent on observing them . "So he has contrived this quite deliberately," she thought; "he plays upon our feelings in this unpardonable fashion, merely in order to scrutinise our behaviour, and assess our guilt." But angry as she was, she had to own a reluctant admiration for his method, even if it owed more to guile and cunning, than it did to the accustomary operations of justice. There doubtless were inveterate criminals so hardened to guilt and infamy as to retain control over their countenances at such a moment, but the members of the Bertram family could not be numbered among them. Maddox had succeeded in manoeuvring them all into displaying their most private sentiments in the most public fashion.

"My purpose, then," he continued, his calm and composed manner providing the most forcible contrast with the state of perturbation all around him, "is to ask you all, in turn, where you were that morning. It will be of the utmost usefulness to my enquiries. So, shall we begin?"

This was all too much for Mrs Norris, who had sat swelling for some minutes past, and now shewed two spots of livid colour on her cheeks. "This is the most extraordinary impertinence! Question us , indeed! And in such a barbarously uncouth manner! When it is as plain as it could possibly be that it must have been one or other of those blackguardly workmen — why we do not cart the lot of them off to the assizes at once I still cannot conceive. A night or two without bread or water and we would soon have our confession — I never did like the look of that tall one with the eye patch — "

But here she was interrupted. "My dear aunt," said Tom, "I am sure we all wish to see this dreadful matter cleared up as soon as possible, do we not? If it will assist Mr Maddox, what objection can we have? It is, after all, quite impossible that any of us were responsible."

Mary wondered whether Tom’s readiness to accede to Maddox’s request owed more to his knowledge of his own complete innocence in the affair, or to a recognition that he had brought this man into the house, and would be the one answerable if the enterprise should fail.

"I shall set the example, Mr Maddox," he said. "You may begin with me. I was in my room until ten o’clock, and after a late breakfast I spent an hour with my father’s bailiff, Mr Fletcher. He will be able to confirm that."

Maddox nodded. "And her ladyship?"

Lady Bertram looked up; her eyes were heavy, and she seemed not to have heard the question. "I am sorry, were you speaking to me?" she said, in the languid voice of one half-roused.

Tom turned towards his mother. "Mr Maddox wishes to know how you occupied your time on Tuesday last, ma’am. Most particularly the time before breakfast."

Lady Bertram seemed bewildered that anyone should even ask such a thing. "I was in my room, where else would I be? Chapman came to dress me as usual, and I had a dish of chocolate. I do not understand — what can this have to do with poor dear Fanny?"

Her tone was becoming agitated, and Tom endeavoured to soothe her, saying at once, "Oh no, ma’am — I am sure nobody suspected you!"

"Quite so," said Maddox, with the most deferential of bows. "I seek merely to obtain the fullest possible picture of where everyone in the house was at that particular time. There is no cause to distress yourself, your ladyship."

"I am very happy to tell you where I was, Mr Maddox," said Mary, in an effort to draw attention away from Lady Bertram. "I spent the morning in the garden with my sister, cutting roses."

"Indeed," said Maddox in a steady tone. "And before that, Miss Crawford?"

Mary flushed; she had quite forgotten her fruitless excursion to the post-office, and the conviction was of a sudden forced upon her that Maddox was already fully apprised of every aspect of her movements that day. "Well, I did walk to the village that morning — "

"So I have been informed. I am delighted that you have elected to be so thorough in your disclosure. Did you see anyone during this no doubt pleasant little walk? Aside from the post-boy, of course?"

Mary shook her head. "No, I did not."

The expression on Maddox’s face was unfathomable. "That is a pity. Let us hope it does not prove to be significant."

Mary opened her mouth to reply, but Maddox had already turned his attention to Maria. "Perhaps Miss Bertram might now be so good?"

Maria might look a good deal thinner and paler than she had used to do, but she appeared to have assumed once more all the hauteur owing to a Miss Bertram ; it was with the pride and dignity of a daughter of a baronet that she met the thief-taker’s gaze. "I was somewhat indisposed, as I recall. I remained in my room all morning, with my maid in attendance."

"You did not speak to anyone during all that time? Aside from your maid, of course."

Maria shook her head. "No. I saw no-one."

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