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. Some thing 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 any thing 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.
‘Do you not see the significance, Mr Maddox? Miss Price was discovered at the bottom of the trench, lying on her back. I was present at that dreadful moment, and I can attest to that. But the marks on her gown would suggest that she had also, at some point, fallen
forwards
, onto her knees.’
Maddox looked at her with new respect. ‘Was there any thing else about her appearance that you noted? Was she, for instance, wearing a wedding ring?’
‘No.’
‘Was she carrying a purse?’
‘No. Nor, I believe, was one discovered in the trench.’
‘So she had no money about her at all?’
‘No, Mr Maddox, none.’
This exchange was succeeded by a silence of some minutes. Mary was suddenly aware of the sound of the clock on Sir Thomas’s desk, and the crepitation of the subsiding fire.
‘Now, Miss Crawford,’ said Maddox at length, ‘we come to what we might call the heart of the matter. It is clear that you are not a young woman given to fits of the hysterics. Nonetheless, these are not pleasant subjects. Not pleasant subjects, at all. Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water, before we proceed?’
‘No, thank you, Mr Maddox. I am perfectly composed.’
‘Quite so, quite so. My next question, then, returns to the subject of her clothes. You have given ample proof of a discerning eye, Miss Crawford, so tell me, was her dress in such a state as you might expect to find it?’
‘How so, Mr Maddox?’
‘Was it, shall we say, torn, or rent in any way?’
‘There was, I believe, a small tear to the collar of her pelisse. The trim had come away in one place.’
‘It was her dress I enquired after, Miss Crawford, not the pelisse.’
‘In that case, the answer is no. Apart from the stains I described, it was unharmed.’
‘And when you washed the body, you noticed no other injuries, beyond those you have described? None, shall we say, of a more
intimate
nature?’
Mary shook her head, feeling her face must be like scarlet; so this was why he had wanted to question her alone. Much as she resented being indebted to him on any account, she could not but be grateful that Edmund was not in the room at that very instant. Maddox gave her no time to recover her composure; indeed, he gave no sign of having perceived her confusion.
‘And what state was the body in,’ he continued, perfectly collected, ‘when you laid it out? Let me be absolutely clear, Miss Crawford. How advanced was the progress of decomposition?’
Mary looked at him, but her gaze was steadier than the beatings of her heart. ‘You do not mince matters, do you, Mr Maddox?’
Maddox spread his hands. ‘I did warn you I would be candid, Miss Crawford. In my experience, there is little to be gained by evading the truth. Not in cases of murder, at any rate.’
Mary took a deep breath. ‘Very well. Let us say that the—the—natural process—had commenced, but I do not believe it had advanced more than one or two days.’
‘Indeed? And why should you say that? There are those in the household, I am told, who believe that she must have lain there above a fortnight. Nay, sixteen full days, if my own computations are correct.’
Mary shook her head. ‘That is quite impossible,’ she said quickly. ‘As you are already so well informed, Mr Maddox, you must also know that the work on the channel did not commence until
after
Miss Price was missed from the house.’
‘Indeed,’ he said, with a look that confirmed that it was, indeed, exactly as she had surmised, and she was so much vexed at this manner of proceeding as to be betrayed into uncharacteristic carelessness. ‘And even were that not the case—’
She stopped at once, suddenly conscious of where her words were tending.
‘Do go on, Miss Crawford,’ he said. ‘I am all agog.’
Mary wished it unsaid with all her heart; he had provoked her into imprudence, and she had allowed herself to be taken in. She was mortified by her own lack of caution, but there was no help for it now. If Maddox was at all aware of what was passing in her mind, he gave no outward sign, and sat quietly in his chair, exercising his excellent teeth upon his thumb-nails.
‘You were saying, Miss Crawford?’ he asked quietly.
Mary lifted her chin, and held his gaze.’ ‘If Miss Price had been lying in the open air, during a period of inclement weather, for more than two weeks, the body would have been in a quite different state from the one in which we found it. Is that plain enough?’
Maddox took out a gold snuff-box, tapped it, and let the snuff drop through his fingers, then shut it, and twirled it round with the fore-finger of his right hand. Mary watched with rising irritation, perfectly aware that this was precisely the response he hoped to induce.
‘And you base this assertion on personal experience?’
Mary swallowed. ‘Yes. I have been unfortunate enough to have seen such a corpse once before. It is not an event I wish to recall.’
Maddox leaned back in his chair. ‘No doubt. But it might assist me to know a little more of the circumstances.’
‘Really, Mr Maddox,’ she said angrily, ‘it can have no possible relevance here.’
‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. Humour me a little, Miss Crawford.’
She saw at once that opposition to a man of Maddox’s stamp would be of little use, and might indeed prove perilous; she did not want this man as her enemy.
‘As you wish,’ she said, taking a deep breath. ‘My brother owns a small house in Enfield. After our parents died we lived for some years with our uncle near Bedford-square, while a housekeeper took care of the Enfield house. However, when our uncle died we were obliged in due course to leave London, and made arrangements to return to Enfield, as a temporary expedient until we might find some where more commodious. The housekeeper wrote to say she would expect us, and my brother came to fetch me and convey me to the house. It was—quite dreadful. Thieves had broken into the property, and taken every thing of any value. The doors were broken open, and some of the windows shattered. We found the young woman lying dead in the parlour, covered in blood. She had been beaten to death, and her skull crushed. Henry believes that she must have surprised the villains in their heinous crime.’
‘Henry?’
‘My brother. He is at present at Sir Robert Ferrars’s estate in Hertford-shire. He left here some days before Miss Price’s disappearance.’
‘You hear from him regularly?’
Mary frowned. ‘Of course.’
‘Quite so. Pray continue, Miss Crawford.’
‘There is little left to tell. The culprits were never apprehended, and I have never set foot in the house from that day to this. It brings back memories I have striven to forget. Until now.’
Maddox nodded slowly. ‘I can quite see that all this must be a painful reminder of what happened to poor Mrs Tranter.’
Mary started. ‘But how—I did not tell you her name— how could
you
possibly know such a thing?’
Maddox gave her a knowing look, and tapped the side of his nose. ‘Someone in my profession comes to know many things, Miss Crawford. Some good, some bad. And some that other people believe to be secrets that they alone possess.You would—
all of you
—do well to remember that.’
‘The steward was summoned after you left. It appears this Maddox fellow insisted upon seeing that accursed trench with his own eyes.’ Dr Grant nodded to the servant to refill his glass, and sat back in his chair.
‘Would to God your brother had never conceived of such a foolish plan, Mary. No good can come from such unwarrantable and vainglorious interference in the works of God. We should be content with what He has seen fit to bestow, and not attempt what we call “improvements”, which are nought but monuments to our own arrogance and folly. Sir Thomas will rue the day he set out upon such an injudicious enterprise. Indeed, I remarked as much at the time.’
‘How did you come to hear of this, my dear?’ enquired Mrs Grant, who was accustomed to such pronouncements at the dinner-table, and was rather more preoccupied with how little her sister had eaten of the excellent turkey the cook had dressed specially that day.
‘I met with McGregor myself, as I was coming back from Mansfield-common. He informed me that Maddox spent above an hour on his hands and knees, examining the dirt. Let us hope he is equipped with such boots and breeches as may withstand such barbarous treatment. But it was of no avail; he did not find whatever it was he was seeking. I believe the word he employed’—this with some thing of a sneer—‘was
clues
.’
‘You do not surprise me, Dr Grant,’ said his wife. ‘As if there could be any thing still lying there, after all this time. I do not see why such a man as this Mr Maddox is needed, at all. To my mind, the whole dreadful business is easily enough explained—it will be those gipsies I told you of, Mary. They were seen at Stoke-hill two days ago, and accosted a party of ladies in a lane not three miles from here. There were half a dozen children, at least, as well as several stout women, and a gang of great rough boys. The ladies were frightened quite out of their wits.’
Mary had said little during dinner, and her spirits remained agitated and distracted after her encounter with Maddox, but her sister’s words drew her attention; she had been imagining all kinds of dreadful possibilities, any one of which would make grievous inroads on the tranquillity of all, but might the answer be far more simple and common-place than that? Might the blame lie with a group of common gipsies? Mary could well see such a throng demanding money, and Fanny refusing in all the disdain of angry superiority, which would only have served to enrage them all the more.
‘It is an interesting little theory, my dear, but, I fear, rather wide of the mark,’ said Dr Grant, his sonorous tones breaking through Mary’s thoughts. ‘Not least because Mr Maddox seems to have discovered the ghastly implement.’
Both the ladies looked at him in shock and dismay.‘What can you mean, Dr Grant?’ said his wife.
‘He may not have found very much in the mud, but I gather that a search of the nearby workmen’s cart was rather more productive. One of the mattocks was found to bear distinct traces of—’
Mrs Grant gave a loud cough, and cast a look of meaning at her husband. Dr Grant was a sedentary man, but his intellectual tastes and pursuits were exceedingly various, and he devoted many of his lengthy leisure hours to the study of scientific matters; he had, therefore, felt all the curiosity of a interested party in the steward’s description of the fragments of human brain and flesh discovered on the blade of the mattock, and would have proceeded to give them a detailed account thereof, but a glance at Mary shewing her to have turned as pale as she had been on first returning from the Park, he contented himself with remarking, ‘Well, well, I shall merely say that it was quite clear that this was the instrument with which the deed was done. Moreover, there had clearly been a rather clumsy attempt to disguise the fact. It had been wiped, but some traces still remained.’
‘And what did the family have to say to that?’ said Mrs Grant, who had poured a glass of wine for Mary, and was obliging her to drink the greater part.