The Mansfield Park Murders

by Victoria Grossack

  ​Susan said that Miss Crawford’s spirits seemed a little agitated but that could be attributed to the murder that had taken place. “This was my first time to meet her, Uncle, so it is difficult for me to judge.”

  ​“Sometimes I forget that you have only been with us a few years. You seem a fixture at Mansfield Park.”

  ​“I am most sincerely attached to Mansfield Park.”

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  The shocking murder of Mr. George Yates was no longer so shocking; the deed had apparently been committed by a horse thief who had stolen a valuable steed, and although everyone was determined to remain watchful and vigilant, other subjects took precedence. After her return from the Parsonage, Susan found herself quizzed by Mansfield Park’s other ladies, who were curious about the inmates but who either could not or would not call on the Parsonage themselves.

  ​Lady Bertram was the most at ease with the knowledge that the Grants had returned to the neighborhood, and accepted Susan’s conveyed civilities from Mrs. Grant with a smile, while Julia Yates yawned and appeared indifferent. Mrs. Norris and Mrs. Rushworth, however, were less tranquil. Mrs. Norris wished to know how everyone appeared and if they were still living in a luxurious manner. Susan said she could not judge; they had not been offered a meal, only some tea, and that, Sir Thomas had declined.

  ​Maria’s agitation was palpable, but she waited until a private moment to make her inquiries. When Julia fell into a doze and Mrs. Norris was complaining to her sister about the housemaid Ann Jones, how she had heard that young woman playing on a pianoforte when the shelves so obviously needed dusting, Maria approached Susan, who sat by a window, sewing. Under the guise of pretending to examine her work, Maria asked whom, exactly, Susan had met at the Parsonage; Susan said she had met the Grants and Miss Crawford.

  ​“Not – not anyone else?”

  ​Susan mentioned the servants.

  ​“I suppose it is just as well. I never counted on meeting him here, and I have no wish to see him again, I assure you.”

  ​Susan was aware that the him was Mr. Crawford.

  ​“And he is not expected at the Parsonage?”

  ​Susan replied that she had heard no mention of such an expectation, but that Miss Crawford planned to write to her brother to ask him about Mr. George Yates. “Evidently they were well acquainted,” said Susan, “and Miss Crawford believes we would benefit from understanding Mr. Yates’s character better.”

  ​Maria was silent for at least a minute after this. “But the murderer is a horse thief, is he not?”

  ​“That is what my uncle believes,” said Susan.

  ​The clock struck three and Susan informed the others that she heard a carriage pulling up to the front of the house. Given the degree of activity they had recently experienced, the arrival of a visitor was not a surprise, but so far the vast majority had either been men of business on horseback or servants carrying messages of concern and condolence. Certainly, however, someone was arriving, although Susan did not recognize the carriage or the livery of the coachman and footman – but everything appeared very fine.

  ​“You should look, Maria,” said Mrs. Norris.

  ​Maria was curious enough to turn her head, and then exclaimed, “Oh!” – turning pink. “The carriage is from Sotherton,” she explained.

  ​“Sotherton!” exclaimed Julia; the information was sufficient to startle her out of her lethargy. “You mean to say that Mr. Rushworth is coming here?”

  ​“Apparently so,” said Maria. “He is descending from the carriage.”

  ​“Perhaps he is coming to see you, Maria,” suggested Lady Bertram.

  ​Maria shook her head. “I cannot comprehend why he should.”

  ​“I agree with my sister, Mr. Rushworth has come to see you,” said Mrs. Norris. “He now realizes he lost a treasure when he lost you.” Mrs. Norris had been a great proponent of the match between Maria and Mr. Rushworth; the marriage had been her greatest success; its dissolution, her greatest failure. Mrs. Norris, unable to blame her darling Maria for anything, faulted Mr. Rushworth and Mr. Crawford.

  ​“If he is not coming to see you, then why is he here?” asked Lady Bertram.

  ​“We will learn soon enough,” said Julia.

  ​“Do you wish to meet him, Maria?” inquired Susan. “Or would you prefer to go to your room?”

  ​“Why? Mansfield Park is her house – at least Mansfield Park is her father’s house,” amended Mrs. Norris. “It is not for her to go and hide.”

  ​Maria and the other ladies waited in a state of tense anticipation, but they were disappointed, for Mr. Rushworth was not announced.

  ​“I suppose Mr. Rushworth is speaking with Sir Thomas,” said Lady Bertram, turning her attention back to her pug, to whom she was more attached than to her former son-in-law.

  ​Mrs. Norris suggested tea. “I do believe that Baddeley is a little behindhand. And if Sir Thomas and Mr. Rushworth are inclined to join us, then we will have refreshment to offer.”

  ​Lady Bertram had no objection, so Susan rang the bell. They all sipped their tea, wondering if they would be joined by the men. Maria, tired of worrying about Mr. Rushworth’s entrance, asked Susan to fetch the backgammon table.

  ​Susan obliged but before the game could begin, a servant entered and asked Miss Price to join Sir Thomas in his study.

  ​“Her!” Mrs. Norris objected at Susan’s appearing to be the most relied upon by her uncle and her aunt. “Why her? She cannot be the reason that Mr. Rushworth has called. The caller is Mr. Rushworth, is it not?”

  ​The servant confirmed that Mr. Rushworth, indeed, was at Mansfield Park but confirmed just as stoutly that Sir Thomas had requested Miss Price.

  ​Despite Mrs. Norris’s protests, Susan rose and went with alacrity to Sir Thomas’s rooms. Like her aunt, she could not imagine why Mr. Rushworth would wish to meet her. But to quote Julia, she would “learn soon enough.”

  ​Sir Thomas was sitting with Mr. Rushworth, a tall, heavy man dressed in the latest fashion. She wondered if he always took such care with his appearance – surely the green vest was made of satin – or if he had made an especial effort in order to impress the residents of Mansfield Park.

  ​“Ah, there you are. Mr. Rushworth, this is my niece, Miss Price,” said Sir Thomas. And then, because Mr. James Rushworth appeared confused, Sir Thomas explained that this was Miss Susan Price, the younger sister of Miss Fanny Price, who was now married to Edmund Bertram.

  ​“Oh! Yes, yes. I did hear something about that.” But Mr. Rushworth expressed no hopes of happiness for the newly married pair.

  ​“Susan, I have asked you in here because I want another pair of ears to hear what Mr. Rushworth has to tell us.”

  ​“Yes, Uncle,” said Susan.

  ​“Mr. Rushworth has some interesting information to share with us. It concerns his horse.”

  ​“His horse!” exclaimed Susan. “You mean, the horse that Mr. Yates rode from Sotherton to Mansfield Park? The one that was stolen during the night that—?”

  ​“Yes, that horse. Go on, Mr. Rushworth. Speak.”

  ​Mr. Rushworth was not accustomed to speaking, at least not coherently, and moreover his narration was broken by a frequent need to clear his throat, which made him even less attractive. Susan was forced to exert patience as he told about how Mr. Yates had tricked him out of the fine steed, or at least how he suspected the fellow of cheating, but as a man of honor himself he had given over the animal, although with great reluctance. Yesterday, however, the horse had returned to Sotherton, on its own.

  ​“I thought Mr. Yates had felt guilty for what he had done and had returned the horse himself,” said Mr. Rushworth, “but then yesterday evening we learned he was dead, actually murdered, at Mansfield Park! So – Yates could not have returned the horse.”

  ​“No,” said Sir Thomas. “Mr. Yates did not return the horse to Sotherton. And as it returned to Sotherton, it does not appear to
have been stolen.”

  ​“No one stole the horse!” Susan exclaimed. “Then, Uncle, how did it get out of your stables? And” — she did not finish her second question, because she was struck by a dark idea, and she was reluctant to express it.

  ​“That is an excellent question,” said Sir Thomas. “How did it get out of the stables?” Then he asked the question that Susan would not. “And if no one stole the horse, who murdered Mr. Yates?”

  ​Mr. Rushworth did not quite follow, but he spoke anyway. He said that he did not know who had killed Mr. Yates and he could not know who had released the horse from Mansfield Park, but he was happy to see the animal again, as it had always been a favorite.

  ​Sir Thomas and Susan tolerated Mr. Rushworth’s irrelevant remarks, then Susan began again. She did not want to relinquish the possibility of a horse thief too easily. “Is it not possible that the thief was thrown by the horse?”

  ​Mr. Rushworth provided information more to the point. “That horse has an excellent nature. He is spirited, yes, but not unmanageable. He would never throw anyone!”

  ​“Not even if the animal were harmed?” inquired Sir Thomas.

  ​Mr. Rushworth explained that one of his grooms had done a thorough examination of the horse and had found no evidence of injury or abuse. A shoe needed repair, but that was all.

  ​“Perhaps you are correct, Uncle, and there was no horse thief. Consider what we learned at the Parsonage, how one of the servants observed a horse without a rider the other morning,” said Susan. “And the Parsonage is so close to Mansfield Park! And the road so good!”

  ​“I agree that it seems unlikely that an accident could have occurred, especially on that stretch,” said Sir Thomas gravely. “Besides, most horse thieves would be too skilled to let such a valuable animal run off.”

  ​“I am not experienced in horse thievery,” Susan remarked.

  ​“No, but I am,” said Sir Thomas, and then clarified this odd statement by saying that when he had served as a member of parliament, he had been compelled to learn many details on the subject.

  ​“But then how did the horse reach Sotherton?” inquired Susan.

  ​Mr. Rushworth explained that the horse was a very bright animal that certainly knew its way home. “We always treated it very well at Sotherton. Of course, it wanted to return to Sotherton.”

  ​“Yes, but who let it out of the Mansfield Park stables? Unless your horse is intelligent enough to open and shut a gate, some man must be responsible,” said Susan.

  ​“Yes, that is the question we wish to answer,” said Sir Thomas.

  ​Mr. Rushworth replied seriously that he did not think the animal could have opened and shut a gate on its own – the solemnity with which he spoke caused Sir Thomas to cough while Susan moved her hand before her mouth to conceal a smile. Then Mr. Rushworth inquired about the ownership of the steed. “Is the horse now my horse? I did not bring it with me, because I heard about the murder, so I was not sure who would inherit. And the horse was obviously happy to be home and a shoe needed fixing.”

  ​Sir Thomas replied that he did not know who, given the circumstances, was the animal’s proper owner. The deceased Mr. Yates had a father and a brother; presumably one of them would inherit. Sir Thomas promised Mr. Rushworth that he would look into the matter and then inform him of the result. In the meanwhile, the animal could remain at Sotherton. It was content to be at what it considered its home, and Sir Thomas was content not to be responsible for stabling such an expensive animal.

  ​That business settled, the immediate question became what to do with Mr. Rushworth. Sir Thomas was obliged to him for having brought such useful information, but the awkwardness of having Mr. Rushworth at Mansfield Park when Maria was in the house could not be emphasized enough. Yet it was too inhospitable to send him back to Sotherton – a ten-mile journey – without more attention from those who lived at Mansfield Park.

  ​Susan suggested a room in which Mr. Rushworth could take refreshment before returning to his carriage. Then she would ask if any of the ladies in the drawing-room wished to speak with him during the remainder of his visit; if no one obliged, she would attend to him herself.

  ​Sir Thomas approved of this approach, only requesting that she rejoin him in his study when she was released.

  ​Mr. Rushworth was happy to eat and drink and to receive any of the ladies. Susan then went to the drawing-room where she was assailed by questions. She answered briefly, relating the fact that Mr. Rushworth had had a matter to discuss with Sir Thomas – she would let her uncle explain – and that the visitor was in another room – if any of them would care to sit with Mr. Rushworth before he climbed back into his carriage to return to Sotherton, Mr. Rushworth would welcome any of them.

  ​“Why would I wish to speak with Mr. Rushworth?” inquired Lady Bertram, who could not be bothered to put aside her pug and to stir from her sofa. Julia, too, said she had no inclination to meet her former brother-in-law.

  ​Mrs. Norris and Mrs. Rushworth exchanged glances. “I cannot speak with him,” said Maria.

  ​“Very well, I will go,” said Mrs. Norris. “After all, it is inappropriate to leave him with only Susan.”

  ​Susan agreed with Mrs. Norris, although she suspected they had different reasons, and led Mrs. Norris to the room in which Mr. Rushworth sat, enjoying a plate of cold meat and salad. Susan could not imagine what they would say to each other, but she did not much care, and she returned to her uncle in his study.

  ​Sir Thomas stood by a window, gazing in the direction of Mansfield Park’s stables. He asked about Mr. Rushworth; Susan joined him and explained that the visitor was being entertained by Mrs. Norris.

  ​“The distance between the stables and the Parsonage is not very great,” said Sir Thomas, pointing. “I do not see how anyone could have fallen off the horse between here and there.”

  ​“Do you believe that there was no horse thief?”

  ​“That is what I believe. But someone wanted us to believe there was a horse thief – to believe that it was a thief who had an altercation with Mr. Yates and who then killed him. I now believe it was a ruse to disguise what actually happened.”

  ​“And what do you think actually happened, Uncle?”

  ​Her uncle answered that whoever had killed Mr. Yates must have done so deliberately. Mr. Yates had suffered a blow to the head, which suggested that he had been struck from behind, and then had cut his throat. “The manner of his death means that it was murder,” said Sir Thomas, “and not, for example, manslaughter.”

  ​Susan had never considered the distinctions between these crimes, but it seemed the wrong moment to ask for an explanation.

  ​Sir Thomas had more to say. The deed had been done at Mansfield Park, in the stables, by someone who knew that Mr. Yates was staying there, and who knew that his horse was in the stables and by someone who then released the horse to make it appear as if the killer had left Mansfield Park.

  ​“Uncle, does that mean” – Susan began, but her idea was too dreadful to put into words.

  ​He answered the question she could not ask. “Yes. It is all too likely that the killer never left Mansfield Park, but remains among us.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  Susan, feeling her knees shake, moved away from the window and sat down.

  ​“I see you comprehend,” said Sir Thomas. “That is one reason I wished for you to join me; you are quick. And you are discreet. The servants trust you; you can help me interview them. And, although you may be shaken now, I believe I can depend on you. You will not faint; you will not succumb to hysterics. If possible, you can keep this from frightening everyone. I do not want to distress Lady Bertram or my daughters.”

  ​Susan, honored by the confidence her uncle had in her, promised to do her best. “However, if we interview those in the house, word of the investigation will spread.”

  ​“I know, but with some effort we can reduce the terror and the tumu
lt. In addition, I do not want to provoke Mrs. Norris.”

  ​That was a powerful argument for keeping their inquiries unobtrusive. Susan did not argue her point any further, and listened and took notes as her uncle discussed the steps he wished to take: speaking at greater length with everyone who had been, or who might have been, at the stables; and working harder to better determine the movements of everyone in the house that night. As she helped her uncle create a list of tasks on how to proceed, she wondered how much discretion they could manage – and was discretion even wise? If a murderer lurked among them, would not warning the household be prudent? No one took pleasure in being afraid, of course, but fear could prevent people from taking unnecessary risks.

  ​Her uncle also discussed questions he wished to answer. Could they fix the time that the murder had occurred? Who might have wished to do violence to Mr. Yates – so much as to wish him dead? Who would have had the strength to kill him? Who could have been in the stables at that time of night? Why had Mr. Yates been in the stables? And finally, who could have released Mr. Yates’s horse from Mansfield Park?

  ​“I think these points will help focus my inquiries,” said Sir Thomas, after Susan read them back to him. “Are there any that you would add?”

  ​“Yes.” She explained that the manner that he was killed seemed odd. “As you say, Mr. Yates was hit from behind with something heavy, and after that his throat was cut. Is it not strange for a killer to use two different weapons?”

  ​Sir Thomas considered, then said: “Perhaps to be certain that he was dead. A blow to the head might not kill someone, but a slash to the throat”—Sir Thomas then paused, as he focused on his niece. “I should not be subjecting you to these ideas. Although you have a sturdy spirit, especially for such a young woman, I am afraid I will be giving you nightmares.”

  ​Her dreams were already likely to be tormented, she thought. Aloud she said although she would not deny that she felt some anxiety, she preferred to be useful if at all possible. But then she had to ask if he would not find better assistance elsewhere.