Murder at Mansfield Park - Lynn Shepherd [76]
‘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.’
Maddox gave a broad smile, and linked his hands behind his back. ‘Your clarity is admirable, Miss Bertram. And you, ma’am?’ he said, turning to Mrs Norris. ‘Perhaps you also took a walk in the park? I gather Miss Crawford was not alone in seeking air and exercise that morning—I am told Miss Julia was also some where in the vicinity.’
‘Well, I most certainly was not. I have better things to do than wandering about on wet grass catching my death of cold. I was in my store-room, sir, as any respectable matron would be at that time of the morning. And you need not trouble to question my son, neither. He did not return from Cumberland until just before luncheon, and he left for the parsonage almost immediately, when we heard what had happened to Julia.’
Maddox was not the only one in the room to turn towards Edmund at this; he was still standing in the window, but Mary saw at once that his demeanour was not as collected as it had been.
‘Is this true, Mr Norris?’ asked Maddox genially. ‘The briefest of discussions with the stable-hands, would, of course, resolve all doubt.’
‘For heaven’s sake, tell him, Edmund,’ said Mrs Norris impatiently. ‘Let us have done with this, once and forever.’
Edmund gave a slight cough. ‘Mr Maddox will have no need to trouble the grooms. As it happens, I arrived in Mansfield somewhat earlier than my mother might have supposed. The difference is easily accounted for: I was glad to be released, after such a journey, from the confinement of a carriage, and ready to enjoy all the luxury of a walk in the fresh air, to collect my thoughts.’
Maddox gave a disarming smile. ‘It seems that the park was more than usually crowded on Tuesday last. You had, I conclude, much on your mind?’
Edmund appeared to hesitate, before regaining his confidence. ‘Evidently. But my private cogitations are my own affair, and can have no conceivable bearing on your enquiries, Mr Maddox.’
Maddox was unperturbed. ‘I will determine what does, and does not, have a bearing on my enquiries, Mr Norris. So how long did you devote to this perambulation? Let me be absolutely clear: at what time, precisely, did you return to Mansfield that day?’
Edmund flushed. ‘I am not entirely sure. Perhaps eleven o’clock.’
Maddox took a memorandum book from his pocket, and opened it with a theatrical flourish. ‘According to the information supplied to my assistant yesterday by the stable-boy, you arrived just before nine o’clock. He is quite sure of this, because the great clock at Mansfield happened to chime as he was unharnessing the horses. I say again, it was not eleven o’clock, as you claim, but nine. Having employed