Murder at Mansfield Park

though in all her girlish dreams of a princely rescuer riding to her deliverance on a milk-white palfrey,
he had never taken on such a shape as Maddox.
    ‘How can I thank you,’ she began. ‘Had you not happened to be there—’
    He got up and went to the side-table and poured a little wine, all the while avoiding her eye. ‘I think you should drink what you can of this,’ he said. ‘As to my presence, you
will find out soon enough that it was not quite so fortuitous as it might seem. This case has been one of the most demanding of my career. The evidence pointed first one way, and then another. I
will confess, Miss Crawford, that until very recently I was fully convinced that it was your brother who was responsible. No-one had a better motive than he.’
    ‘But—’
    Maddox held up his hand. ‘As I said, that was what I had thought. You may possibly be aware that I have deployed my men to gather information.’
    ‘To listen at doors, you mean.’
    ‘On occasion, yes. You look reproving, and no doubt it is not a very commendable activity, but murder is not a very commendable activity either, and as we have discussed together once
before, I am sometimes forced to employ methods that fine ladies and gentlemen find distasteful, in order to discover the truth. This was one such circumstance.’
    He took the empty glass from her hand, and sat down beside her once more.
    ‘When you met Mr Norris at the belvedere, your tête-à-tête was not, as you believed, à deux , but à trois . My man Stornaway was
listening.’
    Mary flushed, and she felt the wound above her eye begin to throb. ‘That was an outrageous intrusion, Mr Maddox—’
    ‘Perhaps. Perhaps not. It has, however, been of the most vital importance in elucidating this case. Stornaway could not hear every word, but he did discern enough. Thus when Mr Norris came
to me and confessed, I knew at once that it was a complete invention from beginning to end. A few pertinent—or impertinent—questions on my part were enough to put the matter beyond
question. Unlike almost everyone else in the house, Mr Norris had actually seen Mrs Crawford’s body, so he was able to describe the injuries he had supposedly inflicted with tolerable
accuracy. However, he had absolutely no idea that Miss Julia Bertram had died any thing other than a perfectly natural, if lamentable, death. I knew, then, that he was lying.’
    ‘So why did you arrest him? Why confine him here like a criminal, and let us all believe him guilty? How could you do such a thing?’
    ‘Because I had no alternative. And if you recall, I did go to great lengths to ensure that he would not be removed to Northampton, nor suffer the indignities of the common jail.’
    Mary turned her face away, and he saw, once more, the thinness of her face, and the hollowness under her eyes; she had clearly suffered much in those two days.
    ‘Besides,’ he continued, ‘I wished to keep him here in Mansfield for my own reasons. Given that Mr Norris had clearly not committed the crime, there was only one
possible reason why he should have chosen to confess to it. He was protecting someone; someone for whom he felt either duty and responsibility, or great affection. Someone he perceived to be weaker
than himself, and less capable of enduring the punishment that must attend such a heinous crime. In short, a woman.’
    He got to his feet and began to walk about the room, his hands clasped behind his back. ‘I was convinced, for some time, that this woman was you , Miss Crawford. I had you watched at
all times, I intercepted your letters, and subjected your behaviour to the most intense scrutiny. I know your habits, I know all your ways; what time you prefer to breakfast, and where you prefer
to walk. I know every thing about you—I have made it my business to know. Despite all my efforts, I saw nothing to indicate that you yourself were guilty. You were distressed, but I was
forced to acknowledge that this was the natural distress of a woman who knows the man she loves is about to sacrifice himself needlessly for her sake.’
    Her face was, by now, flushed a deep red, but she did not turn to look at him.
    ‘And so I turned my attention elsewhere. I had initially dismissed Mrs Norris as a possible murderess, on account of her age, but it seems I did not fully appreciate her physical strength,
nor her formidable capacity for jealousy and resentment. It was the poisoning of Julia Bertram that forced me