Mary had been both surprised and pleased when Edmund had sought her in the dining-parlour, but she had instantly perceived him to be wholly preoccupied by something that seemed to have little to do with her; his manner was distant, and had she not become well acquainted with his character and temper, she might have considered him to be almost uncivil. He had explained his errand in some haste, barely meeting her eye, and she could not tell if he was vexed or relieved when he met with a ready acquiescence to his request. He had asked her to accompany him with scarcely another word, and she had barely enough time to collect her wits before she was led into the presence of Charles Maddox.

When the door had closed behind the two gentlemen, Maddox directed her to a chair beside the fire, and took one facing her. It might have been accident, or design, but the seat he had chosen afforded him a clear view of her face in the light from the window, while his own features remained shadowed and obscure.

"Now, Miss Crawford," he began. "I am most grateful for your assistance in this sad affair. I am sure you are as anxious as any body to have it elucidated."

"I will do anything in my power to help."

"Quite so, quite so. Perhaps you might begin, then, by giving me your impressions of the corpse. In your own words, of course."

This was not what she had expected — in so far as she had expected anything — and she sat for a moment without speaking, wondering how, and where, to commence. She was aware that Maddox was eyeing her closely all the while, but before she had the chance to begin her relation, he took matters into his own hands.

"Perhaps it might expedite the business if I began by putting one or two questions of my own?"

Mary blushed in spite of herself; she had not thought to find an intellectual superior in such a man as this, but he already had the advantage of her.

"If you would be so good. I have no experience of such things, and do not know what, precisely, you wish to ascertain."

"Quite so. I would have been astonished if it had been otherwise," he replied with what he clearly believed to be an affable smile. "As far as I have been informed, Miss Price met her death as the result of an accident."

Mary shook her head. "That is simply not possible. Such injuries could not have been sustained in a simple fall."

"You say injuries, in the plural.Was that deliberate?"

Mary looked at him archly. "I am always most precise in my use of words, Mr Maddox. You may take it that what I say, I mean."

He bowed. "I am glad to hear it. Indeed, I wish more of my witnesses demonstrated such precision of thought. So, we may conclude her assailant inflicted more than one blow?"

Mary nodded. "Six, or seven, in my estimation."

"You saw evidence of that?"

"Not at first, but once I had washed the blood and dirt away, several distinct wounds became clearly visible. They were all close together on the left side."

Maddox sat back in his chair, and joined his finger-tips under his chin. "So there was a great deal of blood," he said thoughtfully, before continuing in a louder tone, "and what sort of blows, do you imagine, might have produced those wounds?"

Mary frowned. "I do not take your meaning."

"Were they, for instance, caused by the blade of a knife?"

"Oh, I see. No, it was most definitely not a knife. It must have been much thicker and heavier than that. But with a pointed edge."

"Like a hammer, would you say?"

Mary considered for a moment. "Yes. That would be possible. something of that kind. There was also a mark on the right-hand side of the face, but that was little more than a bruise."

Maddox smiled again. "Excellent. You are a most observant young woman, Miss Crawford. Just as Mr Bertram said you were. Now, shall we pursue the same fertile train?"

It was not a very happy turn of speech, but Mary had already perceived that she would do well to keep her private opinions to herself, in the presence of the watchful Mr Maddox.

"Were there any other marks or blemishes on the body, Miss Crawford," he continued, "that particularly engaged your notice?"

Mary’s feelings had been in such a tumult, that she could not have articulated a sensible answer, had the same question been put to her on the spot; but now, under the influence of his questions, her mind was becoming calm, and her recollections exactly defined.

"I did notice her hands."

"Her hands?"

Mary nodded slowly. "Miss Price was always rather vain of her hands. But her finger-nails were broken, and there was mud under them. And there were cuts on both her palms."

"And you concluded from this?"

Mary could not remember concluding anything at all at the time, but she found herself replying before she was aware, "I suppose it is possible that she attempted to defend herself."

"Quite so, quite so. That is very likely, I should say."

"There was also the question of the clothes," continued Mary, hesitatingly.

"Go on."

"She was wearing a very handsome pelisse, trimmed with fur, which I believe had been given to her by her uncle, just before he left for Cumberland. And underneath that, a white muslin gown. Her boots, also, were of very fine leather — "

Maddox waved his hand. "I am sure all this is most fascinating for you young ladies, but — "

"If you would allow me to finish Mr Maddox, I was going on to say that her boots were caked in mud. They were not designed for walking any great distance, but I believe that is what she must have done. The weather had lately been very wet."

"I see — "

"Moreover, the front of the gown was stained with mud. In particular, there were two large dark patches on the skirt."

It was Maddox’s turn to look bewildered.

"Do you not see the significance, Mr Maddox? Miss Price was discovered at the bottom of the trench, lying on her back. I was present at that dreadful moment, and I can attest to that. But the marks on her gown would suggest that she had also, at some point, fallen forwards, onto her knees."

Maddox looked at her with new respect. "Was there anything else about her appearance that you noted? Was she, for instance, wearing a wedding ring?"

"No."

"Was she carrying a purse?"

"No. Nor, I believe, was one discovered in the trench."

"So she had no money about her at all?"

"No, Mr Maddox, none."

This exchange was succeeded by a silence of some minutes. Mary was suddenly aware of the sound of the clock on Sir Thomas’s desk, and the crepitation of the subsiding fire.

"Now, Miss Crawford," said Maddox at length, "we come to what we might call the heart of the matter. It is clear that you are not a young woman given to fits of the hysterics. Nonetheless, these are not pleasant subjects. Not pleasant subjects, at all. Would you like me to fetch you a glass of water, before we proceed?"

"No, thank you, Mr Maddox. I am perfectly composed."

"Quite so, quite so. My next question, then, returns to the subject of her clothes. You have given ample proof of a discerning eye, Miss Crawford, so tell me, was her dress in such a state as you might expect to find it?"

"How so, Mr Maddox?"

"Was it, shall we say, torn, or rent in any way?"

"There was, I believe, a small tear to the collar of her pelisse. The trim had come away in one place."

"It was her dress I enquired after, Miss Crawford, not the pelisse."

"In that case, the answer is no. Apart from the stains I described, it was unharmed."

"And when you washed the body, you noticed no other injuries, beyond those you have described? None, shall we say, of a more intimate nature?"

Mary shook her head, feeling her face must be like scarlet; so this was why he had wanted to question her alone. Much as she resented being indebted to him on any account, she could not but be grateful that Edmund was not in the room at that very instant. Maddox gave her no time to recover her composure; indeed, he gave no sign of having perceived her confusion.

"And what state was the body in," he continued, perfectly collected, "when you laid it out? Let me be absolutely clear, Miss Crawford. How advanced was the progress of decomposition?"

Mary looked at him, but her gaze was steadier than the beatings of her heart. "You do not mince matters, do you, Mr Maddox?"

Maddox spread his hands. "I did warn you I would be candid, Miss Crawford. In my experience, there is little to be gained by evading the truth. Not in cases of murder, at any rate."

Mary took a deep breath. "Very well. Let us say that the — the — natural process — had commenced, but I do not believe it had advanced more than one or two days."

"Indeed? And why should you say that? There are those in the household, I am told, who believe that she must have lain there above a fortnight. Nay, sixteen full days, if my own computations are correct."

Mary shook her head. "That is quite impossible," she said quickly. "As you are already so well informed, Mr Maddox, you must also know that the work on the channel did not commence until after Miss Price was missed from the house."

"Indeed," he said, with a look that confirmed that it was, indeed, exactly as she had surmised, and she was so much vexed at this manner of proceeding as to be betrayed into uncharacteristic carelessness. "And even were that not the case — "

She stopped at once, suddenly conscious of where her words were tending.

"Do go on, Miss Crawford," he said. "I am all agog."

Mary wished it unsaid with all her heart; he had provoked her into imprudence, and she had allowed herself to be taken in. She was mortified by her own lack of caution, but there was no help for it now. If Maddox was at all aware of what was passing in her mind, he gave no outward sign, and sat quietly in his chair, exercising his excellent teeth upon his thumb-nails.

"You were saying, Miss Crawford?" he asked quietly.

Mary lifted her chin, and held his gaze." "If Miss Price had been lying in the open air, during a period of inclement weather, for more than two weeks, the body would have been in a quite different state from the one in which we found it. Is that plain enough?"

Maddox took out a gold snuff-box, tapped it, and let the snuff drop through his fingers, then shut it, and twirled it round with the fore-finger of his right hand. Mary watched with rising irritation, perfectly aware that this was precisely the response he hoped to induce.

"And you base this assertion on personal experience?"

Mary swallowed. "Yes. I have been unfortunate enough to have seen such a corpse once before. It is not an event I wish to recall."

Maddox leaned back in his chair. "No doubt. But it might assist me to know a little more of the circumstances."

"Really, Mr Maddox," she said angrily, "it can have no possible relevance here."

"Perhaps. Perhaps not. Humour me a little, Miss Crawford."

She saw at once that opposition to a man of Maddox’s stamp would be of little use, and might indeed prove perilous; she did not want this man as her enemy.

"As you wish," she said, taking a deep breath. "My brother owns a small house in Enfield. After our parents died we lived for some years with our uncle near Bedford-square, while a housekeeper took care of the Enfield house. However, when our uncle died we were obliged in due course to leave London, and made arrangements to return to Enfield, as a temporary expedient until we might find some where more commodious. The housekeeper wrote to say she would expect us, and my brother came to fetch me and convey me to the house. It was — quite dreadful. Thieves had broken into the property, and taken everything of any value. The doors were broken open, and some of the windows shattered. We found the young woman lying dead in the parlour, covered in blood. She had been beaten to death, and her skull crushed. Henry believes that she must have surprised the villains in their heinous crime."

"Henry?"

"My brother. He is at present at Sir Robert Ferrars’s estate in Hertford-shire. He left here some days before Miss Price’s disappearance."

"You hear from him regularly?"

Mary frowned. "Of course."

"Quite so. Pray continue, Miss Crawford."

"There is little left to tell. The culprits were never apprehended, and I have never set foot in the house from that day to this. It brings back memories I have striven to forget. Until now."