Tom said another man had been there, a fellow whose last name was Smith, but Tom did not know much about him. It might be possible to track him down, but it would not be easy.
Sir Thomas concurred that Mr. Rushworth was not an ideal witness, but that the question to be posed to him was so straightforward that they should hope for the best. And, even if Mr. Rushworth could not remember how much Tom had lost that night last winter, perhaps he could help to identify and to locate Mr. Smith.
Tom, standing near the window, informed his father and his brother that the man Sir Thomas had sent to Sotherton was returning. “Now we shall learn something,” said Sir Thomas.
The messenger, despite his ride of twenty miles – he was one of Mansfield Park’s grooms, so a long ride was not especially fatiguing for him – insisted on reporting to his master immediately. “Well, Cooper, what information have you brought us?” asked the baronet. “Have you brought us a message from Mr. Rushworth?”
No, Sir Thomas, he had not.
“Is Rushworth traveling?” asked Edmund. “Do you know where he is?”
No, Mr. Rushworth was not traveling. Mr. Rushworth was still at Sotherton.
“Then why did he not send a reply?” inquired Tom.
“Because,” Cooper explained, “Mr. James Rushworth is dead.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
The news of the death of Mr. Rushworth startled everyone in Sir Thomas’s study. After shocked exclamations, Sir Thomas asked for all the information that Cooper could give, but the man only had a few details. There had been no accident, no blow to the head, nor any slash of his throat. Mr. Rushworth had simply been found dead in his bed this morning.
“Poor devil,” muttered Tom.
Sir Thomas still wished to know more. Was Mr. Rushworth’s death natural, or had he been murdered?
The groom did not know, but could report that the local coroner – not the one who had recently visited Mansfield Park, but another man, much closer to Sotherton – was making inquiries. Mr. Rushworth had complained occasionally about a sore throat, but had appeared to have no illness nor weakness of consequence.
Sir Thomas asked the messenger several more questions, but soon came to the end of the man’s knowledge. Cooper departed in order to seek refreshment.
“I do not know what to think,” said Sir Thomas. “Rushworth! Dead! Could there be any connection between his death and the death of Mr. Yates, do you think?”
Tom and Edmund considered this, but could see little that linked the two deaths. Sir Thomas rose. “I do not think Maria will be especially affected, but I must inform her before she learns about Mr. Rushworth’s death from the servants.” As all the servants were certainly discussing the subject, the men hastened to the drawing-room to speak with the ladies at once.
Sir Thomas did not attempt to deliver the news to his daughter in private. Maria was shocked, certainly, and exclaimed, “Poor James!” but although she trembled, she neither fainted nor wept, and she asked what exactly had happened.
The other ladies were also startled. “How terrible!” Julia exclaimed. Lady Bertram pitied Mrs. Rushworth – not her daughter, but Mr. Rushworth’s elderly mother – who would now be quite alone, and wondered if she would be a good prospect to be the recipient of a puppy. “Not immediately; it could seem as if she were trying to replace her son with a dog,” Susan counseled, although she added that she thought the gesture might prove kind later. Mrs. Norris, like Maria, wanted to know how Mr. Rushworth had died. “Could he have been murdered by the horse thief?”
Sir Thomas said that seemed unlikely; he was aware of only a few details regarding the death of Mr. Rushworth, but this morning the man had been found dead in his bed.
Nevertheless Mrs. Norris persisted with her idea. “The horse that was in the Mansfield Park stables the night Mr. Yates died – it is now in the stables at Sotherton.”
“An unlucky omen,” said Mr. John Yates, then added: “The pale horse of death.”
“The horse is black,” Maria objected.
“Surely the horse had nothing to do with either death,” said Susan. “Its presence must be a coincidence.”
“Do not say that, Susan,” said Tom. And then he explained that some people considered him to be the most likely murderer of Mr. George Yates. As he defied the world to discover or even to invent a reason for him to kill Mr. James Rushworth, he preferred the deaths to be connected, as that would clear him of involvement in the death of Mr. George Yates.
“Surely you did not kill Mr. Yates, Tom,” said Lady Bertram. “Or Mr. Rushworth!”
Tom said he was glad that at least his mother believed in him; the men in the room all seemed rather ashamed of their lack of confidence in Mr. Bertram. Sir Thomas suggested they seek other topics of conversation. Edmund said he must go soon, and asked his mother if she had any message for Fanny. Lady Bertram employed Susan to write a note for her, which occupied Susan for a quarter of an hour. By the time she was done, tea was arriving, and the conversation was returning to the subjects that Sir Thomas had counseled against. Julia and her husband were trying to explain to Sir Thomas how seriously they should take the threats of Lord Dexthorpe, and Maria was attempting to comprehend how Tom could be a suspect in the death of Mr. Yates.
After the tea was drunk, Edmund rose to depart. He bade them all farewell, advising Tom, in particular, to tell the truth and all would be well.
“I am telling the truth,” Tom protested, “but now my story cannot be confirmed by Rushworth.”
“I suppose we should send a note of condolence to Mrs. Rushworth,” said Lady Bertram, and again Susan’s services were required.
Mrs. Norris patted the hand of her eldest niece. “You should not grieve, Maria. Mr. Rushworth never appreciated you.”
Susan thought, from everything that she had heard, that Maria had never appreciated Mr. Rushworth, but she kept her ideas to herself. When Lady Bertram’s letter to the elder Mrs. Rushworth was done, to be sent with the post the next morning, Susan sat quietly, studying Tom. She could not believe that he had murdered Mr. Yates – she could not! And what about poor Mr. Rushworth? How could he possibly be dead? He had been in good health when she had met him eight days ago! Except for his tendency to clear his throat, she thought, but surely he could not have died from that? Yet if he had been found in his bed, there could have been no accident nor any foul play.
Unfortunately, the death of Mr. Rushworth made the clearing of Tom’s name more difficult. Tom was speaking with Mr. John Yates, trying to determine which Smith could have taken part in that card game – the first name had either been Robert or Richard – but Tom was not certain; that was the only occasion that they had met. “Crawford might know,” Tom muttered to his father, but no one wanted to contact Mr. Crawford.
Mrs. Norris still spoke about the horse, how that had to be the key to all the mysteries of the last two weeks. Perhaps, suggested her aunt, Mr. Rushworth had sent someone to steal back the horse, but something had gone wrong, and then that someone – some manservant, Mrs. Norris supposed, at Sotherton – had feared the death would be discovered and he had killed his master.
Maria, familiar with the servants at Sotherton, thought this unlikely, but Mrs. Norris continued to promote her conjecture, until Lady Bertram said that she hoped servants were not murdering their masters.
Susan learned from a housemaid that she was wanted by Elissa; she went upstairs to care for her young cousin.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
The next morning, upon the request of Sir Thomas, Susan called at the Parsonage. She explained that she had a favor to ask of Miss Crawford, to write to her brother to ask if he could help identify the Smith who had been at that card game with Tom Bertram and Mr. George Yates last winter. Then, if Mr. Crawford could identify the Smith in question, Sir Thomas would like assistance in locating him.
Miss Crawford made sure
she understood exactly what Susan wanted, and then said: “Miss Price, I will do as you ask, as long as you grant me a favor – do not be alarmed, I want nothing more than a half-hour of chat. With all that has been happening, you must understand that we are all extremely curious, and any information that you can give me will provide everyone in the Parsonage with conversation for the rest of the day.”
Susan agreed, but cautioned that she could spare no more than thirty minutes, as she would surely be needed at home.
Miss Crawford’s initial questions concerned the death of Mr. Rushworth. How were those at Mansfield Park, especially Mr. Rushworth’s former wife, responding to the news? Susan replied that Maria had seemed both surprised and shocked. Miss Crawford shook her head. “Poor Mrs. Rushworth! If she had endured only three years of marriage to him, and especially if she had managed to produce a son, she would have a pretty settlement for the rest of her life. Now I understand the property will go to a cousin, a Mr. Walter Rushworth who has been living somewhere in Switzerland. A happy day for the new proprietor, but not for my former friend. Ah, well, we all have regrets. Tell me, Miss Price – do those at Mansfield Park, in particular, does Sir Thomas – believe that the deaths of Mr. George Yates and Mr. James Rushworth are connected?”
Susan said that although it was tempting to believe that the deaths of two wealthy young men – so near each other in time, and both with ties, albeit in Mr. Yates’s case, trifling, to Mansfield Park – were connected, Sir Thomas did not see how they could be. The horse seemed to be the only link, and although it could have played a part in the death of Mr. George Yates, who had died in the stables, it was difficult to see how the animal could have had anything to do with the demise of Mr. James Rushworth, who had died in his bed.
“This is a point where my intelligence is more to the purpose than yours, Miss Price,” said Miss Crawford triumphantly. She explained that just that morning, Dr. Grant had learned from an acquaintance that poison was suspected in Mr. Rushworth’s death!
This intrigued Susan, and she asked for whatever details Miss Crawford could share. Miss Crawford first warned Miss Price that the details were gruesome, not necessarily appropriate for such a young lady’s ears, but Miss Crawford could not restrain herself, and so continued. She explained that the skin of the deceased Mr. Rushworth had had a strange color; he had smelled strange as well.
“Do you have a description of the smell?”
“Burnt nutmeats.”
Susan did not understand the significance, but she committed the detail to memory. “My uncle will be interested in this, I am sure, but if Mr. Rushworth was poisoned, does not that make it even less likely that the deaths were committed by the same person? The deaths are so different.”
Miss Crawford said that, as she had no murderers among her acquaintance – at least not that she was aware of – she could not speculate with any confidence on how they might behave. The clock struck the half hour, and Susan said that she appreciated the information, but that she really had to go. Miss Crawford promised to send the letter to her brother with the inquiries about Mr. R— Smith that morning, and walked Susan to the door. On the threshold she said: “I thought I saw Mr. Edmund Bertram yesterday, on his horse. Is that possible, or did my imagination play tricks on me?”
Susan confirmed that her cousin and brother-in-law had ridden to Mansfield Park yesterday. He was well, and her sister Fanny was well, but they were concerned by all that was happening at his father’s estate.
“Of course, very natural, very attentive,” said Miss Crawford. “I am happy to learn that all is well with Mr. and Mrs. Bertram of Thornton Lacey. I will detain you no longer, Miss Price, and will attend immediately to the letter to my brother.”
Susan returned to Mansfield Park and went at once to her uncle’s study with what she had heard from Miss Crawford about Mr. Rushworth’s death. Sir Thomas made inquiries, and discovered that what Miss Crawford had told his niece was correct. He learned several other interesting details, including the fact that the coroner in Sotherton had determined that the poison, whatever it was, had acted quickly, probably in only a few minutes, information that, when it reached Cook, greatly reassured her, as the food he had consumed while at Mansfield Park several days before could not have had anything to do with his decease.
The inquiries into Mr. Rushworth’s death ruffled few at Mansfield Park. The magistrate from Sotherton came to speak to them, especially to Maria as Mr. Rushworth’s former wife, but Maria, although she had turned pale when she heard that James had been murdered, could tell her interlocutor little about Mr. Rushworth’s recent visit. “I had no conversation with my former husband; I was never even in the same room with him, so I can tell you nothing of his state of mind.” Sir Thomas explained that Mr. Rushworth had come to see him about the horse that Mr. Yates had won in a wager, as it had somehow reappeared at Sotherton, but that they had discussed little else. The baronet had not noticed anything unusual about his former son-in-law’s spirits. Miss Susan Price had met with him briefly, but as this was her first introduction to Mr. Rushworth, she could not judge if his behavior were any different than it was on other occasions. Mrs. Norris had spoken with Mr. Rushworth as well, and she had a little more to say about her niece’s former husband. “Mr. Rushworth had dressed in his finest clothes when he visited Mansfield Park. Obviously his intention was to make a good impression. After all, he had not needed to ride ten miles in order to let us know about the whereabouts of an animal; he could have sent the information by a servant. My opinion is that he missed my niece greatly, and after his visit here he realized winning back her heart was impossible, and so he found a way to take his life.”
The Sotherton magistrate, who had already spoken with the servants on Rushworth’s estate, confirmed that Mrs. Norris was correct in that Mr. Rushworth had taken great pains with his appearance that day, but what that said regarding his state of mind was inconclusive.
Over the next few days the inmates of Mansfield Park learned that Sotherton was in even more disarray than Mansfield Park. The last proprietor was dead from poison, but how that had been administered was not clear. Excepting those who had dealt with Mr. Rushworth’s dead body, no one else at Sotherton had died or had even displayed any symptoms, so the poison could not have been in his food or drink. A clue was found on the floor of Mr. Rushworth’s bedroom, a tiny, plain vial that no one in the household claimed to recognize. The vial was empty, so its contents could not be tested on an animal, but it smelled of burnt nutmeats, and so most believed that the poison must have been in that vial. Everyone at Sotherton denied having anything to do with it, and besides, if the vial had contained the poison that the killer had used to murder Sotherton’s master, why had the murderer not taken that clue away? Destroying the vial would have been easy; one only had to crush it and leave the shards on one of the gravel walks.
“Perhaps the murderer was not very bright,” said Mr. John Yates, as the inmates of Mansfield Park tried to comprehend what had happened at Sotherton. All but Sir Thomas, who was reviewing papers in his library, and Elissa, who was being cared for by Ann Jones, were gathered in the drawing-room on a rainy afternoon.
“James Rushworth was not very bright,” said Julia.
“But why would Mr. Rushworth take his own life?” asked Lady Bertram. “He was young, healthy and rich!”
“Perhaps, after visiting Mansfield Park, he realized how much he missed Maria,” said Mrs. Norris, still forwarding her idea.
Maria shook her head. “Aunt, I do not see how that is possible. James and I did not even speak.”
“Perhaps he had financial problems we do not know about,” suggested Susan.
Tom, still suffering from the suspicions that were burdening him with respect to the death of Mr. Yates – Miss Crawford had written to her brother, but Mr. Crawford had not yet replied, so there was no confirmation from the mysterious Mr. Smith – Tom had another i
dea, one that had been suggested and rejected before, but which now seemed to him more likely. “What if Rushworth followed Yates here and killed him in the stables? Rushworth must have been angry about the loss of his horse. He was also a large fellow, and could have managed it. Then, later, out of remorse, he took his own life.”
For a minute, everyone contemplated Tom’s theory. “That would be convenient,” remarked Julia.
“Yet is it not reasonable?” argued Tom. “Everyone has assumed that the deaths were connected through Mansfield Park. But what if they were connected through Sotherton?”
His audience was pleased by his remarks. “Of course, those deaths had nothing to do with Mansfield Park!” exclaimed Mrs. Norris.
“If Rushworth took his life from remorse, why did he not leave a letter explaining what he had done?” asked Mr. John Yates.
The matter was discussed by everyone in the drawing-room. One theory, offered by Mrs. Norris, was that Mr. Rushworth had not wanted to distress his mother by being a suicide. Suicides were considered scandalous; the deceased were not even permitted burial in hallowed ground.
“I think it is all unlikely,” said Julia and explained that, in her opinion, Mr. Rushworth had not been capable of such planning or consequential thought.
“You should not speak ill of the dead,” said Mrs. Norris, and Susan wondered which was unkinder to Mr. Rushworth’s memory: to think him stupid or to think him a murderer. Of course, it was possible for Mr. Rushworth to have been both stupid and a murderer.
Tea arrived; Sir Thomas joined them. He listened to the current speculations, expressed his hope that one of them was true, but was there any proof? First, of course, they would all feel more secure if they could be certain that the murderer had nothing to do with Mansfield Park. Second, if Lord Dexthorpe could be convinced that Mansfield Park had had nothing to do with Mr. Yates’s death, that would be a great relief.
The Mansfield Park Murders Page 16
