Holme Hall was on rising ground near the River Wye outside the village of Bakewell. Darcy looked at the south-facing entrance and had an easy view of the crenellations on the parapet and the mullioned and transomed windows. Ten years ago, it was purchased by Robert Birch when it was sold under order of Chancery to pay the debts of its previous owner. Mr Birch not only purchased a Jacobean manor, but he had sufficient wealth and influence to become the parish magistrate.
Last night, the appearance in Pemberley’s drawing room of what was possibly a murder weapon had ended the evening. There had been no shrieks, no cries of disbelief. It was rather that a melancholy fell over the party, and then everyone drifted silently to their own chamber. When they were gone, Darcy had written a hasty note to Mr Birch to ask that he call for a coroner’s inquest into the death of Molly Carew.
Darcy had received Mr Birch’s refusal late last night, and set out immediately upon waking to persuade him that her death might not have been an accident. He was about to ring the bell when the door opened and the magistrate himself came from the house with a little girl of about ten years old. Mr Birch frowned when he recognised him,but touched his hat before saying, “Play by the trees, Harriet. Papa needs to speak to Mr Darcy before we take our walk.”
He led them a little farther from the house, and then said, “I suppose you disagree and are here to rant and storm?”
“Let us hope that it does not come to that. Only a peace officer of the parish may ask for a coroner’s inquest, and it must be done without delay.”
“You expect me to impanel a jury, take twelve men from their own concerns—after the week we have had—just to view a drowning victim and examine you, Mr Stevenson, your gardener, and a shepherd boy?” The magistrate shook his head. “Not all deaths are investigated, Mr Darcy, not if it is an obvious accident.”
“But this victim was found near a silver taperstick with blood on it, and Carew’s temple bone was fractured.”
Mr Birch barked a laugh. “Are you a surgeon? Maybe the body hit a rock in the stream after death.”
Darcy struggled to keep his patience. “I am not, but James Mander, the coroner of the High Peak, could tell us if you let him take an inquisition of the body.”
“None of the drowning victims from Monday’s storm needed an inquest.”
“This victim may not have drowned,” Darcy cried. Mr Birch’s eyes widened, and Darcy took a calming breath. “Any medical man could determine if Carew’s body was submersed whilst alive, and examine the wound on her head to see if it was received during life or after death. The blow might have killed her.”
“And it might not. I cannot unequivocally justify an inquest. Is that even blood on the candlestick? Was the candlestick already in the grass before she died? For all you know, Miss Carew stole your candlestick, had a seizure, dropped the candlestick, hid her head on it during a fit, and rolled into your stream.”
“But the candlestick was on the other side of?—”
“Mr Darcy, for every scenario you create, anyone else could create another. Besides, there is no suspect, no one heard any screams, and no woman would stand silent and allow a villain to hit her on the head.”
“If her body was examined by the coroner, we could know for certain if she was wounded in a struggle.”
Mr Birch shrugged. “If a coroner’s inquest is held, they might bring in a verdict of accidental death, and for what? To tell us what we already know, with no one to hold responsible, and at what cost to the county?”
“I shall pay Mr Mander’s fee,” Darcy said. “And it is also possible the jury will return a verdict of murder.”
“The county would still have to pay if a murder case is referred to the assizes in Derby. Shall you pay for that as well, after the expenses of this storm? Oh wait,” Mr Birch answered his own question, “it does not matter because we have no suspect. And a parish constable, who usually deals with drunkards, fisticuffs, and petty thefts, shall never find a culprit with no evidence.”
The responsibility for securing justice lay with the injured party, or their friends. If someone was accused, the next step was to appear before the magistrate and lodge a formal complaint. Local constables would then be instructed to seek out and arrest the accused and bring him or her before the court to answer the charge.
There is no one at present to accuse of the crime, and Mr Birch believes there never will be.
“Simply because there are no witnesses, no suspectyet, it does not mean that her death was an accident,” Darcy said earnestly. “And she was wearing borrowed clothes when she died; what if she was mistaken for someone else? You must let the coroner decide if her death was an accident.”
“There is no evidence to support calling an inquest,” Mr Birch said firmly. “You seem to be struggling to accept this point.Idecide whether the evidence supports an inquest, or a trial. Another woman drowned during a heavy rain. At some point before, during, or after drowning, shemighthave hit her head. None of this warrants an inquest.”
“You are a Justice of the Peace, with a responsibility?—”
“A responsibility to maintain public order,” Mr Birch interrupted in a low voice. “We are in the midst of a crisis in this parish due to a cold, wet season, and now this disastrous storm. What riots shall wehave if it is feared there is a murderer amongst us and we have no suspect?”
Darcy’s thoughts flew back to the inn in Lambton and the angry crowd growing more fearful, pressing closer, getting louder. Still, he said plaintively, “Mr Birch, Justices of the Peace administer both criminal and civil justice; you must keep the peace even if there is outrage following an inquest or trial.”
Mr Birch counted on his fingers. “There is no one who has acted suspiciously, no lover, no one who threatened to harm her, no one has fled the area, no witnesses who saw her after she left her father’s house. What if a constable, an unpaid volunteer, decides that the shepherd boy must have killed her since he found the body? In strained times, an innocent boy could be tried and executed like that.” Mr Birch gave Darcy a serious look before growling, “Iamkeeping the peace.”
“You cannot fear that the entire parish would riot or act irrationally.”
“I do fear it, Mr Darcy.” Mr Birch looked at him with entreaty. “The community are still drying out their belongings and wondering if their landlords will evict them or what will they grow next year. The landowners are all worried about having no income this year or next, losing tenants, affording repairs, having to sell land.”
“And if they fear there was a murder and we have no suspect, you are afraid that an innocent person might be accused from a wish to find someone to blame, regardless of guilt?”
Mr Birch’s voice fell. “Some are burying their loved ones who drowned. What if they feartheirloved one was murdered also? Anyone might be targeted, and they might even try to exact their own justice. A crowd could turn, and then what? I shall have to read the riot act, but does that ever convince an agitated crowd to disperse?”
