Chapter Fifteen
"Miss Mary…." Came out the quiet voice of Hill.
Mary blinked as she woke up from her nap. She got off the bed and went to open the door, "Yes, Hill?"
The girl curtsied before Mary and said, "There are two detectives here to see you…"
Mary sighed, knowing that this would happen sooner or later, "Thank you, Hill…" She passed by the younger girl and went downstairs.
Mrs. Bennet was entertaining the two men in the palor room. She was serving them tea and making pleasant small talk.
Mary looked at the two men and frowned, slightly, "Hello…"
The men bowed to her as she curtsied. The younger one smiled, charmingly, "Hello, Miss Bennet. I am Mr. Evers and this is my partner, Mr. Phillips…We want to talk to you about Mr. Wickham."
Mrs. Bennet said, quickly, "Tragedy, isn't it. My daughter finally finds a man that will take her and off he dies. Shame, shame. My darling deserves better. Don't you, Mary?"
Mary was about to answer when Mrs. Bennet ignored her.
"Tragedy, tragedy. First my husband, then my future son-in-law. Shame, shame, shame. Personally, I would have married her off to Mr. Collins, my husband's cousin. Mary was quite fond of him."
Mary narrowed her eyes, "Mama, it would be appropriate if you let me speak to these men in private…"
Mr. Evers and Mr. Phillips glanced at each other, thinking this was quite curious.
Mrs. Bennet nodded before smiling at the men. She curtsied and scurried out of the room.
Mary sighed as she smiled at the gentlemen, "How can I help you?"
Mr. Phillips asked, "Was Mr. Wickham upset about anything?"
Mary said, coolly, "He had a lot of gambling debts…He was upset about that."
Mr. Evers said, bluntly, "You aren't upset about his death, are you?"
Mary stared at the man in front of her. She knew that he had above average intelligence. He would not be fooled as easily as her family.
Mary glanced over at Mr. Phillips and smiled, slightly. He looked to be much easier to manipulate. Mary had learned what men assume when they met a woman.
One, that she was weak. Two, that she was attracted to him.
Mary batted her eyes and said, "I am quite upset. It's a shock. I wish that you wouldn't make assumptions about how I feel. You don't know me."
Mr. Phillips said, "She is right, Mr. Evers…"
Mr. Evers stared at Mary before asking, "Do you know anyone who would want to murder your fiancée?"
Mary shook her head, "Besides gamblers, no one. He was loved by everyone."
The two detectives looked at each other and back at Mary.
"What about your father?" Mr. Phillips asked.
Mary was slightly taken aback at that question, "Wh-what? What do you want to know?"
Mr. Evers asked, "Who would want to kill him?"
Mary was not prepared for this. She racked her brain for some sort of answer.
"I don't know. I don't know why anyone would want to kill him. He was a good man. A strict father, but a good man," Mary lied.
She then said, quickly, "I know that he was involved in gambling as well. Mama and my sisters didn't know, but I knew. Maybe he got involved with the wrong people like Mr. Wickham had."
Mr. Evers raised his eyebrow, questioningly.
"…We'll be in touch, Miss Bennet.." Mr. Phillips said as he and Mr. Evers bowed.
Mary smiled as she curtsied, "Good day to you…"
The two men left the house.
"What do you think?" Mr. Phillips asked Mr. Evers.
"….She didn't love him…" Mr. Evers said, "She didn't love Mr. Wickham."
"Love isn't the only reason for marriage. Money, stability, you know this," Mr. Phillips told him.
Mr. Evers said, "And the gambling problem…She's pushing us in that direction."
Mr. Phillips asked, "Where are you going with this?…You do not think that she was involved, do you?"
Mr. Evers glanced back at the house, "…I do not know yet…"
Mr. Phillips reminded him, "She is just a small woman. Women don't really kill people."
Mr. Evers said, "She could have had help."
"Persistent, aren't you?" Mr. Phillips said, amused.
The younger man said, "There is something about her that I do not trust."
Meanwhile…
Mr. Collins came downstairs and looked at Mary, "…What is wrong, my love?" He noticed her scared and pale expression.
"Some detectives came over. They were asking questions about Papa and Mr. Wickham…" Mary said.
"…" Mr. Collins sighed as he bit his lower lip, "…What did you tell them?"
Mary said, "Nothing. I'm not telling them anything. I'm pushing them in a gambling direction and you better do the same."
Mr. Collins said, "I will." He glanced around before he went over to her, "Do not worry…I will protect you…I would go to prison if it meant saving you."
Mary smiled at that, "You would?"
Mr. Collins nodded, "I killed for you, didn't I?"
Mary asked, "…How are you feeling?"
Mr. Collins smiled at her, adoringly, "I sleep like a baby….He deserved to die."
Mary went to caress his cheek and then reached up to kiss him.
Later that night…
Around one o'clock in the morning, the door of Mr. Wickham's house was opened. Lydia walked inside and closed the door behind her. She immediately went into Mr. Wickham's bedroom. She sighed as she laid down on the bed. She could faintly smell the scent of his cologne. She closed her eyes and tried to remember the man that she was in love with. She got off the bed and went over to his desk. She saw a paper and a discarded feather pen. She picked up the paper and read it.
Dear Mary,
Why are you not answering any of my letters? I have had them hand delivered. I am sure that you have received them. Mary, my love, I am getting worried. I try to call on you again and again. The nightmares are getting worse. I can barely sleep. I drink and I drink. At first, it helped. However it is now hindering me. I have the feeling that you were just using me.
I love you Mary. I would do anything for you. Why are you not speaking to me? Mary, please answer my letters. Just answer one. I need to know you are okay.
His face is in my dreams. I burned the clothes, but I can still smell the blood on anything I wear. My friends are noticing that I am becoming paranoid. I am scared. I am terrified. This is an awful secret. I want to confess what I have done to someone. You told me that it was justified, but I do not believe it is. I beat a man to death, Mary. I killed your father and…
Lydia couldn't even read the rest. She put the paper in a pocket in her coat and shook in shock. She ran out of the house and down the road. She was full of anger.
Mary seduced Mr. Wickham into killing their father. Mary was the one with blood on her hands. Lydia had to confront her.
She went into her home and went upstairs to Mary's room. She opened the door and went to her sleeping sister's bed. She shook her sister's shoulders, "Get up!"
Mary's eyes opened and she sat up in the bed. She glared at her sister, "What is it?"
Lydia pulled out the letter and said, "Mr. Wickham killed Papa! You made him do it! It's all here on this letter."
Mary got out of the bed, forcing the covers off her. She cursed Mr. Wickham for being so stupid as to leave a letter with a confession.
She pulled the letter away from Lydia, "I did no such thing. These are lies by a gambling drunk."
Lydia shook her head, "It all makes sense. You hated Papa. Everyone could see it. Why did you do it?"
Mary was infuriated by her younger sister. She slapped her, "It was all your fault!"
Lydia put a hand to her cheek as she stared at Mary, "What?"
Mary said, pointing her finger at Lydia, "It was your fault. I was just another daughter until you came along. When you were born, all that changed. I was three years old. For fifteen years that man has done everything in his power to make my life hell. My only wish was that I did not kill him myself."
Lydia's eyes widened at her sister's angry face. She started to back away, "I am going to tell…"
Mary smirked as she said, mockingly, "'I am going to tell'…No one will believe you."
Lydia said, "Mama will. Elizabeth will. Everyone will. I do not need the letter. You will die for what you have done."
Lydia went for the door and Mary grabbed a scarf off her vanity. She wrapped the scarf around Lydia's neck.
It seemed as if time was going fast forward.
She felt the life drain out of her sister as she kicked and struggled.
Mary sighed as she let her sister's body drop to the floor.
It was then that she heard the door open.
"…Mary, what did you do?"