Who Murdered Mr Wickham

by Carol Hutchens

  “Colonel, I must insist—”

  “Colonel,” Caroline’s twittering laugh sounded over Bingley’s outburst, “how entertaining of you.” Far from being disconcerted by his blunt question, Miss Bingley seemed to enjoy the attention. “You must suffer from the lack of sleep if you imagine such a thing is possible.” Opening her eyes wide, she continued, “You are asking questions of the wrong sister, I fear. I am not the one who stayed in the garden long after my drunken husband returned. Perhaps you should question why Mr. Hurst troubled himself to go outside when all he usually does is keep close to the punch bowl?”

  “Caroline—”

  “Oh, Charles, do stop worrying.” Caroline snickered. “This is far more entertaining than any parlor game.”

  “Do you mean to imply your own sister committed this crime?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked in a mild tone as he sent Bingley a silencing glance.

  “Well, of course not,” Caroline batted her eyelashes with the skill of a demure female. “Why would I consider such an act from my dear sister? I am merely suggesting you examine her husband’s activities.”

  “Caroline, think of what you are saying.” Bingley demanded. “You are as much as accusing Hurst of committing this murder.”

  “Oh, do be serious, Charles.” Caroline rolled her eyes. “I am merely curious as to why he exerted such effort to wander about the garden.”

  “Do you believe Mr. Hurst had reason to harm Mr. Wickham?”

  Caroline glared at Fitzwilliam. “You must ask Mr. Hurst that question, Colonel. I fear I do not have the answer.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam returned her stare for several long heartbeats. “Very well, Miss Bingley, perhaps you can tell us why you entered the library instead of returning upstairs to the ballroom.”

  Caroline arched a brow as she stared at the colonel with a half smile on her lips. “Well, to warm myself in front of the warm fire, of course. Really, Colonel,” Caroline made a snickering sound, “surely you do not think I came to read a book on the night Jane and Charles were hosting their first ball?”

  “Did you see anyone else in the room when you entered?” Colonel Forester’s words roared loud in the quiet room.

  “Only that servant making herself welcome to the books.” Caroline sniffed and eyed the colonel as if he were on a level with the offender in her opinion.

  Recalling how easily Caroline became vexed, Bingley waited for the scathing comments he was certain would follow. No one escaped with the last word when disagreeing with Caroline, except Louisa. However, neither of the two colonels seemed to pay any notice to the glitter in his sister’s eyes.

  “Are you referring to Miss Brown?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked in a mild tone. “Did she leave the library after your conversation with her?”

  “Quite the opposite if you must know,” Caroline snapped.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam exchanged a glance with Colonel Forester, and turned to Bingley. “Mr. Bingley, if you would be so kind, please request your sister and Mr. Hurst to join us.” He paused and looked around the room. “Perhaps we will finally get some answers.”

  ***

  That Mrs. Hurst did not welcome the summons to return to the library was evident. She stormed in as if being forced to associate with a roomful of servants. “Really, Charles, can you not gain control this situation so your guests are not inconvenienced?”

  Mr. Hurst stumbled along behind his wife and fell into a chair with a loud sigh. “Ah, there you are. What say you, Bingley?”

  “Mrs. Hurst—”

  “Colonel, I am aware that a certain amount of discussion is necessary, but must we have others present for the event? Why is Caroline here? Did you not finish questioning her?”

  “Just listen, Louisa—”

  “Mrs. Hurst,” Colonel Fitzwilliam interrupted Caroline, “please describe the events of last evening so we can clear your sister of any suspicion of murder.”

  “Caroline? Commit a murder?” Louisa gave a mocking laugh. “Surely you are not serious, Colonel. My sister hardly knew Mr. Wickham and she is certainly not capable of committing murder.”

  “I say, Colonel, my wife is right on that account,” Mr. Hurst’s words seemed unhindered for a change. “In fact, between the two, I would venture to say Louisa has more of the temperament needed—”

  “Really, Hurst, what you are saying?” Louisa’s face turned the dull red of fine wine, but her husband kept speaking as if she had not said a word.

  “But my wife could not have done the deed because she was in the garden with me.” Mr. Hurst leaned back in his chair with a satisfied nod of his head. Only those who knew him well could detect the extra wobble that passed for a nod, Bingley decided.

  “You are certain she was with you the entire time?” Colonel Forester demanded with a satisfied glance at Colonel Fitzwilliam. “If that be the case, then we are left with no one to speak on Miss Bingley’s behalf.”

  “Now that you make mention of the fact, I seem to recall, m’wife walked to the house with Caroline. But she came back to tell me to come inside.” Mr. Hurst pursed his mouth and gave an affirming nod of his head. “I had too much punch to drink, you see. Damn wicked stuff that punch is, too. Hits a blow before you figure out it is loaded.”

  “Mr. Hurst, are you quite certain Mrs. Hurst escorted you and Miss Bingley back to the house?”

  “Aye, ‘tis true,” Mr. Hurst flapped his hand, “did I not just say as much?”

  Colonel Forester turned to Mrs. Hurst. “Madam, did you see Mr. Wickham while you were in the garden?”

  “Of course,” Louisa responded in her usual clipped tone, “Caroline was speaking to Mr. Wickham when Hurst and I bumped into her in the dark.”

  “Your husband says you then left the garden with your sister. Was Mr. Wickham still there when you quit the garden?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.

  Bingley heard Fitzwilliam’s low tone and watched the colonel’s expression change, sensing he was observing a hunter approaching his prey. Fear raced through him, for both his sisters were in the colonel’s sights.

  “He was in fine form, Colonel, and still conversing with my husband when I returned to the a short time later to urge Hurst to come inside.”

  “He was there, as well.” Mr. Hurst blurted as he pointed a wobbling finger toward Colonel Forester. “Ask him. I am not certain he can vouch for Wickham’s presence, but he almost trampled over me in the dark, he did.”

  “Sir, you are mistaken.” Colonel Forester’s face filled with color. “Perhaps you saw my wife and assumed I was there as well. However, I assure you I was not.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam straightened to his full height as all eyes turned to rest on him. Finally, frustration heavy on each word, he said, “Mr. Bingley would you be so kind as to request the presence of all the guests we have previously questioned.”

  ***

  A short while later, Mrs. Forester, Captain Carter, and Denny entered the library. Miss Brown and Miss Darcy followed behind them, with Lizzy, Jane, and Miss King on their heels. Mrs. Bennet entered next, with Lydia, Kitty, and Mary close behind her.

  Mrs. Bennet’s entrance was all one would expect of a woman so in tune with her nerves. She wasted not a moment on polite behavior. “Colonel, if you are going to put questions to my dear Lydia again—”

  “Wife, come sit by me,” Mr. Bennet said. “Colonel Fitzwilliam is only doing what we asked of him.”

  With a loud sniff, Mrs. Bennet settled down beside her husband. “You asked the colonel to prolong events surrounding poor Wickham’s murder? Oh, Mr. Bennet, how could you!” Mrs. Bennet waved a hand holding a scrap of lace. “You are willing to expose my poor Lydia’s nerves to the terrible events of this night all over again? It will not do, Mr. Bennet, think of her nerves. Dear Lydia is sensitive to the events around her, just as I am. She cannot bear this strain, I tell you.” Then, noticing that Kitty and Mary were hovering nearby, Mrs. Bennet said, “Oh, Kitty, Mary do stop lurking about and find a seat. You know I can
not catch a breath of air when you stay close as a shadow.”

  Mr. Darcy stood from his chair so Lizzy could sit. His sister perched on the arm of the chair to remain close. Jane sat in a chair nearby, with Mr. Bingley standing beside her. They all turned their attention to Colonel Fitzwilliam as he looked about the room, and then started to speak.

  “This day started with little hope we would discover who murdered Mr. Wickham. However, that puts us all at risk, and I refuse to leave this matter without resolution. Therefore, I must ask the questions again. This time each of you will hear the responses. Take note if anyone gives information you know to be untrue, and speak aloud to guard your own safety.” He gazed at the shocked expressions on the faces before him and continued. “Let us begin with a simple question. Who was the first person to leave the ballroom?”

  Silence followed as everyone looked around at other guests. After the silence lasted several heartbeats, Captain Carter said. “I believe Wickham was first out of the ballroom.”

  “That sounds possible. He never liked being confined.” Denny murmured.

  Colonel Fitzwilliam gave a nod. “Very well, and who left the room after Wickham?”

  Another silence followed, and then Mrs. Forester spoke in a timid voice, “I went out for a breath of fresh air, though I cannot be certain it was after Mr. Wickham left, for I did not see him.”

  Following her declaration, Denny and Captain Carter exchanged glances, but neither spoke.

  “I saw my wife leave the ballroom so I broke off my conversation with Sir William and followed to ensure her safety.” Colonel Forester added.

  Frowning at hearing the claim, Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “I do not recall your departure being mentioned in earlier questioning, Colonel.”

  “It seemed of no importance.” Colonel Forester shrugged. “I heard Wickham’s voice, but did not pay any mind. I was intent on protecting my wife in the darkness, not encounter a murderer.”

  “And yet, a murder occurred last evening.” Colonel Fitzwilliam turned. “Mrs. Forester, were you not uneasy at walking alone in the dark?”

  Mrs. Forester lifted her chin, “Really, Colonel, I am married to a commanding officer of the militia. I cannot show fear of a little thing such as a dark garden.”

  “At least we can confirm Mr. Wickham was in the garden, inasmuch as you heard him speak, Colonel.” Colonel Fitzwilliam paced a few steps, and turned back. “Who left the ballroom behind Colonel Forester?”

  “I followed Mrs. Forester,” Lydia said as she glared at her former friend. “I wanted to speak with Harriet in private.”

  Denny cleared his throat and spoke up. “I followed after Wickham so we could have a chance to talk.”

  “Was there anything of consequence intended by your desire for conversation, Mr. Denny?”

  “Only time to converse with an old friend, Colonel,” Denny said with a shake of his head. “We had no chance to make conversation because we were dancing, and I thought to spend some time with him. Yet once I reached the garden, it was so dark I could not find Wickham.”

  “Colonel, I left the ballroom after Denny,” Captain Carter said, “but it was so the dark I could not find Denny or Wickham.”

  Ignoring the distraction of Captain Carter’s comment, Colonel Fitzwilliam turned back to Denny and said. “Mr. Denny, were you intending to demand payment for the gambling debt Mr. Wickham owed you, by any chance?”

  Shrugging, Denny gave a reluctant nod. “In part, but we were friends, and it seemed a good time to talk over times since we last met.”

  “Yet you were observed conversing with Mr. Wickham in the ballroom before he left to go outside. Did you not have enough of each other’s company?”

  “Colonel, before Wickham left Brighton to join a northern regiment, we spent most of our days in each other’s company. A few words between dances did not compare. We arranged to met outside.” Denny held Colonel Fitzwilliam’s gaze without blinking.

  “Colonel, if you must have all the details or threaten us with claims of being a murderer,” Caroline drew her words out with exaggerated slowness, “I observed Captain Carter leave the ballroom and followed him to secure an escort for a stroll in the garden to cool off.”

  “Yet you made no mention plan when we spoke earlier, Miss Bingley.” Colonel Fitzwilliam said. “Did you meet with Captain Carter in the garden? I ask because of all the other claims of not being able to see in the dark.”

  “I am afraid I did not.” Caroline waved an elegant hand. “It was too dark and even though others said they left before I did, I saw only Mr. Wickham.”

  “Ah,” was Colonel Fitzwilliam’s only response before he turned to his fellow officer. “Any questions you wish to ask, Colonel Forester?”

  “As I am not of a mind as to your reasoning, Colonel, carry on if you will.” Colonel Forester lifted a shoulder and stepped closer to his wife.

  “Several guests are still unaccounted for,” Colonel Fitzwilliam said as he looked around the room. “Who left the ballroom after Miss Bingley?”

  “I followed Caroline,” Mrs. Hurst said. “I thought to accompany her as it was dark and I, too, wished to get some refreshing air. I was not aware of her plan to meet with Captain Carter.”

  Caroline rolled her eyes. “There was no plan, Louisa. I simply saw the Captain leave and wanted to walk with him for safety.”

  “Aye, but I had a plan.” Mr. Hurst blurted. “My wife left the room so I quit the group I was talking with and followed her. Wanted to make certain she was not in the dark alone.”

  “Alone, Mr. Hurst, or did you suspect your wife was meeting someone?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.

  “Why the dickens would you say that?” Mr. Hurst demanded. “Easy to tell you have no worry of a wife, if you can come up with such ideas as that.”

  “Forgive my plain speaking, Mr. Hurst, but you would have us believe that, even after you drained a goodly portion from the punch bowl, you still gave conscious thought to protecting your wife?”

  “’Tis a fact, sir.” Mr. Hurst puffed out his chest and raised his chin high. “Makes no matter the amount I drink, m’wife deserves protection. Moreover, I vouch for what Forester said. It was darker than Hades in that garden. Why the Colonel there almost trampled me in the dark, and him a trained militia man.”

  “Um, very well, as you say it was a dark night. Who left the ballroom after Mr. Hurst?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked.

  Kitty raised a trembling hand and said, “I might have done.”

  “Or it could have been me, for I paid no notice of Kitty leaving, but I wanted a private word with Lydia.” Lizzy said.

  “So, Mrs. Darcy followed her sister, Lydia,” Colonel Fitzwilliam frowned as he turned to Kitty. “And who did you follow, Miss Bennet?”

  Kitty’s face filled with rosy color as both her parents turned to stare at her, but she angled her chin and replied in a firm tone, “I followed Denny. Since Lydia is married, I thought he might notice me.”

  “Kitty Bennet—”

  “Miss Bennet, did you find Mr. Denny when you arrived in the garden?”

  “No, but I saw Miss King lurking about in the shadows after I lost sight of Denny.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam turned to Miss King, “Miss King, we have no mention of you leaving the ballroom.”

  “I followed Captain Carter.” Color filled Miss King’s face as she met Colonel Fitzwilliam’s probing stare. “I wished a quiet word with him as we are both staying at Lucas Lodge.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam rubbed his chin as a frown wrinkled his brow. Lips pursed, he studied Miss King for a several long heartbeats, before turning back to Kitty. “Miss Bennet, after you observed Miss King in the garden what happened?”

  “I, uh, I heard loud voices in a far corner of the garden and stopped walking. It was very dark, you see, and I was frightened.”

  “Did you recognize the voices?” Colonel Fitzwilliam asked softly.

  Kitty glanced about her then rushed into speech, “It
was Mr. Hurst and Wickham.”

  “What say you, girl?” Mr. Hurst banged the arm of his chair. “What is the meaning of this?”

  Mrs. Hurst placed her hand on his arm. “Do be quiet, Mr. Hurst. You were full of punch at the time. Pray say no words you might regret.”

  “Good advice, Mrs. Hurst, but I am curious as to why you feel it necessary to caution your husband to mind his words.” Brows lifted, Colonel Fitzwilliam waited for Mrs. Hurst to respond, but her husband finally rallied his senses and burst into speech.

  “Madam, why do you say such? I was in complete control of my faculties and I would appreciate it if you did not make me sound out of my head.”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam turned a questioning glance on Mrs. Hurst, but her only response was a sniff as she pinched her lips tight and angled her chin. Lifting one shoulder to show his resignation at her lack of response, the colonel turned back to Kitty. “Miss Bennet, if you please, tell me again, did you overhear the conversation or just the noise?”

  Chewing her lip, Kitty darted a glance at her parents, then rushed to say, “Mr. Hurst warned Wickham to stay away from his wife.”

  “What the—”

  “Stay away from his wife?” Mrs. Bennet’s voice rose. “What nonsense is this you speak, Kitty? Wickham had a wife so why would he bother with another woman?”

  Colonel Fitzwilliam exchanged a glance with several men in the room. Then with a bland expression, he turned to the man in question. “Indeed, Mr. Hurst why did you see fit to warn Mr. Wickham to stay away from your wife?”

  “Colonel, pray pay no mind to what Hurst says. He consumes too little food and too much drink, and then talks out of his head.” Mrs. Hurst blurted.

  “Quite right, wife, but my head was not muddled by drink and I was not in my cups when I last spoke to Wickham.”

  As everyone in the room had observed the condition of Mr. Hurst the evening before, Colonel Fitzwilliam ignored the man’s claims and turned back to Kitty. “What happened next, Miss Bennet?”