him put into the prison van by Headborough Brownrigg and Constable Mason. Hardcastle then prepared to enter his carriage but before the coachman had cracked the reins he thrust his head out of the window and called to Darcy, “The catechism. It does contain an injunction, does it not, against entertaining idolatrous and superstitious beliefs?”
Darcy could recall being taught the catechism by his mother but only one law had remained in his mind, that he should keep his hands from picking and stealing, an injunction which had returned to memory with embarrassing frequency when, as a boy, he and George Wickham had ridden their ponies into Lambton and the ripe apples on the then Sir Selwyn’s laden boughs were drooping invitingly over the garden wall. He said gravely, “I think, Sir Selwyn, that we can take it that the catechism contains nothing contrary to the formularies and practices of the Church of England.”
“Quite so, quite so. Just as I thought. Stupid girls.”
Then Sir Selwyn, satisfied with the success of his visit, gave a command and the coach, followed by the prison van, rumbled down the wide drive, watched by Darcy until it was out of sight. It occurred to Darcy that seeing visitors come and go was becoming something of a habit, but the departure of the prison van with Wickham would lift a pall of recollected horror and distress from Pemberley and he hoped too that it would not now be necessary for him to see Sir Selwyn Hardcastle again before the inquest.
Book Four
The Inquest
1
It was taken for granted both by the family and the parish that Mr and Mrs Darcy and their household would be seen in the village church of St Mary at eleven o’clock on Sunday morning. The news of Captain Denny’s murder had spread with extraordinary rapidity and for the family not to appear would have been an admission either of involvement in the crime or of their conviction of Mr Wickham’s certain guilt. It is generally accepted that divine service affords a legitimate opportunity for the congregation to assess not only the appearance, deportment, elegance and possible wealth of new arrivals to the parish, but the demeanour of any of their neighbours known to be in an interesting situation, ranging from pregnancy to bankruptcy. A brutal murder on one’s own property by a brother by marriage with whom one is known to be at enmity will inevitably produce a large congregation, including some well-known invalids whose prolonged indisposition had prohibited them from the rigours of church attendance for many years. No one, of course, was so ill bred as to make their curiosity apparent, but much can be learnt by the judicious parting of fingers when the hands are raised in prayer, or by a single glance under the protection of a bonnet during the singing of a hymn. The Reverend Percival Oliphant, who had before the service paid a private visit to Pemberley House to convey his condolences and sympathy, did all he could to mitigate the family’s ordeal, firstly by preaching an unusually long, almost incomprehensible sermon on the conversion of St Paul, and then by detaining Mr and Mrs Darcy as they left the church in so protracted a conversation that the waiting queue, impatient for their luncheon of cold meats, contented themselves with a curtsey or a bow before making for their carriage or barouche.
Lydia did not appear, and the Bingleys stayed at Pemberley both to attend her and to prepare for their return home that afternoon. After the disarray that Lydia had made of her garments since her arrival, arranging her gowns in the trunk to her satisfaction took considerably longer than did the packing of the Bingleys’ trunks. But all was finished by the time Darcy and Elizabeth returned for luncheon and by twenty minutes after two o’clock the Bingleys were settled in their coach. The final farewells were said and the coachman cracked the reins. The vehicle lurched into movement, then swayed down the broad path bordering the river, down the incline in the long drive and disappeared. Elizabeth stood looking after the coach as if she could conjure it back into sight, then the small group turned and re-entered the house.
In the hall Darcy paused, then said to Fitzwilliam and Alveston, “I would be grateful if you would join me in the library in half an hour. We are the three who found Denny’s body and we may all be required to give evidence at the inquest. Sir Selwyn sent a messenger after breakfast this morning to say that the coroner, Dr Jonah Makepeace, has ordered it for eleven o’clock on Wednesday. I want to be clear if our memories agree, particularly about what was said at the finding of Captain Denny’s body, and it might be useful to discuss generally how we should proceed in this matter. The memory of what we saw and heard is so bizarre, the moonlight so deceptive, that occasionally I have to remind myself that it was real.”
There was a murmur of acquiescence and almost exactly on time Colonel Fitzwilliam and Alveston made their way to the library where they found Darcy already in possession. There were three upright chairs set at the rectangular map table and two high buttoned armchairs, one each side of the fireplace. After a moment’s hesitation, Darcy gestured to the new arrivals to take those, then brought over a chair from the table and seated himself between them. It seemed to him that Alveston, sitting on the edge of his seat, was ill at ease, almost embarrassed, an emotion so at variance with his customary self-confidence that Darcy was surprised when Alveston spoke first, and to him.
“You will, of course, be calling in your own lawyer, sir, but if I can be of any help in the meantime, should he be at a distance, I am at your service. As a witness I cannot, of course, represent either Mr Wickham or the Pemberley estate, but if you feel I could be of use, I could impose on Mrs Bingley’s hospitality for a little longer. She and Mr Bingley have been kind enough to suggest that I should do so.”
He spoke hesitantly, the clever, successful, perhaps arrogant young lawyer transformed for a moment into an uncertain and awkward boy. Darcy knew why. Alveston feared that his offer might be interpreted, particularly by Colonel Fitzwilliam, as a ploy to further his cause with Georgiana. Darcy hesitated for only a few seconds, but it gave Alveston a chance quickly to continue.
“Colonel Fitzwilliam will have had experience of army courts martial and you may feel that any advice I could offer would be redundant, particularly as the colonel has local knowledge, which I lack.”
Darcy turned to Colonel Fitzwilliam. “I think you will agree, Fitzwilliam, that we should take any legal help available.”
The colonel said evenly, “I am not and have never been a magistrate, and I can hardly claim that my occasional experience of courts martial qualifies me to claim expertise in civil criminal law. As I am not related to George Wickham, as is Darcy, I can have no
Darcy turned to Alveston. “It would seem an unnecessary waste of time to be riding daily between Highmarten and Pemberley. Mrs Darcy has spoken to her sister and we all hope that you will accept our invitation to remain here at Pemberley. Sir Selwyn Hardcastle may require you to defer your departure until the police investigation is finished although I hardly feel he would be justified after you have given evidence to the coroner. But will not your own practice suffer? You are reputed to be exceptionally busy. We should not accept help to your detriment.”
Alveston said, “I have no cases requiring my personal attendance for another eight days, and my experienced partner could keep routine matters running smoothly until then.”
“Then I would be grateful for your advice when you feel it is appropriate to give it. The lawyers who act for the Pemberley estate deal mostly with family matters, chiefly wills, the purchase and sale of property, local disputes, and have as far as I know little if any experience of murder, certainly not at Pemberley. I have already written to tell them what has happened and will now send another express to let them know of your involvement. I must warn you that Sir Selwyn Hardcastle is unlikely to be cooperative. He is an experienced and just magistrate, minutely interested in the detective processes normally left to the village constables and watchful always for any intrusion on his powers.”
The colonel made no further comment.
