CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Over the course of the following month several important happenings occurred. First, Mr. Gallagher returned to his home and within a week wrote to Mr. Hurst that his inquiry had concluded. His letter gave a sparingly detailed account of his firm belief in the guilt of Garrett Surman, executed by the magistrate in Doncaster, putting the matter of the murder of Sir Andrew Fraser solely in the hands of God. The cobbler hoped that his chronicle of events would be enough to assuage the interest of Mr. Hurst, who might then declare their business at an end. Gallagher, for his part, made no mention of the reward.
In five days’ time, he had his reply. A post rider appeared at his shop at nearly six o’clock that evening with a dispatch from London. Although the handwriting was slovenly and many of the thoughts disjointed, it seemed Mr. Hurst was satisfied with the results of the Constable’s efforts. Neither did he make mention of any reward. Just when the cobbler believed the business to be settled satisfactorily to all parties, a single day later, and nearly the same time of day, a different dispatch arrived at the shop, letter in hand from Mr. Hurst. This letter was slightly more coherent but made many of the same assertions and even in the same general order—with no mention, once more, of any type of reward. Gallagher chuckled to himself at the absurdity of his former benefactor’s correspondence and was glad to have the whole concern decided.
The second series of events were rather intricate, but ultimately nothing more than a lugubrious exercise in futility. In summary, information emerged from within Mr. Wilshere’s network of informants that the evil plot had resumed once more, with a victim who matched the pattern of previous killings being found in Newcastle-Upon-Tyne, her body hidden in a thicket near Hadrian’s Wall. Maitland was dispatched to the north and was quickly followed by Bingley himself, when it was learned that a certain captain in the Royal Scots Dragoons called Cairbre MacCaig, had connections to Andrew Fraser’s black-market arms venture. Further inquiry allowed the discovery that it was not Caibre MacCaig who was party to some of Sir Andrew Fraser’s dealings, but rather, a sugar importer named Caibre MacKay whose involvement in any illegal dealings was cursory at best. Additionally, MacKay had died of apoplexy a full seven months prior to Bingley’s cessation of Fraser. On the other hand, Captain MacCaig was, from all indications, a fine and upstanding gentleman who was both honourable and kind. Over the course of those weeks spent in the city chasing one dead end after the other, they were finally able to trace down the young lady’s lover who, after some stern scrutiny, confessed to her murder out of a jealous rage. He was turned into the local constable who charged him before the magistrate where he plead guilty to the crime. Two days later he was hanged atop the gaol in Carliol Square.
Being convinced that the proper course of justice had been met in this instance, Bingley and Maitland drove south toward Grantley Village, where they would pay Mr. Gallagher a visit. However, during a stop in Harrogate they were met with an express letter from Wilshere that another young lady had been found under similar circumstances in Hull. They diverted course and began to investigate. The victim was a young lady of fifteen named Mary Fenning. Her father was a shipping clerk, and her mother had died in childbirth. She was the youngest of five surviving siblings. An offer of marriage would have yielded a gentleman but two pounds per annum. In speaking with her father and older sister, they learned that she had recently fallen under the charms of a wealthy young man from Derbyshire. Over the course of but ten days, she fell completely enamoured by the young man, though none in her family had been introduced. Miss Fenning left a note to her older sister the morning of her disappearance, writing that she was to be married in Derby and honeymoon in Ramsgate before returning home with her new husband in tow. Naturally, while this was cause for concern, there were no desperate efforts to find her, as her plan, though hastily concocted, seemed to put her in no danger, and in fact, might have been highly beneficial. Her remains were found eight days later, half submerged down the Humber in Hessle.
The similarities between this story and those previously adjudicated were uncanny and could only lead to the conclusion that the dark conglomerate was indeed active once more. Bingley was thorough in gathering whatever details could be recalled about the description of the young man from Mary’s siblings who were in her confidence. He was tall, dark haired, and uncommonly handsome. She was told that he grew up on a vast estate in Derbyshire. He was charming, witty, and good-natured. The more he heard, the more it sounded like George Wickham.
Bingley might have flown to Meryton and murdered him as soon as time and distance would have allowed but for another wrinkle in plans. Another corpse was found along the shore in Scarborough. The young lady was yet to be identified but was not believed to be a local. Being in such relatively close proximity, Bingley and Maitland made the journey north from Hull, only to find upon their arrival that the young lady was not a young lady at all, but an old man dressed in women’s clothing, who had by all appearances drowned himself by tying weights around his neck and hurling himself into the sea. He had washed up on the shoreline and was initially identified as a female, but upon closer inspection… While this unfortunate occurrence may have no doubt piqued their curiosity, it did not but distract from their mission.
Next, an unfortunate encounter with a cart driver in his highest altitudes caused Bingley to part company with Quinton, and land rather heavily on his backside. He narrowly avoided breaking bones, but was left with severe bruising, and a cooler not fit for travel for nearly a fortnight.
During his convalescence in Hull, he received a letter from Wilshere that three weeks prior that Colonel Forster’s regiment—Wickham included—had left Meryton for Brighton. It was by this time, the twentieth of June. Upon hearing the news, Bingley was one on hand, relieved that the Bennet girls were now safely out of the reach of the miscreant, and on the other hand concerned for the safety of vulnerable maidens on the south coast. In light of this, he dispatched Maitland down to Brighton to keep a distant, but watchful eye on Wickham. He additionally hoped that his man could potentially uncover Wickham’s contacts which might lead them to the new power brokers within the scheme. First, though, he directed Maitland to rest for a week in Meryton and gather what news on the Bennet sisters he could—particularly in regards to Jane.
Bingley corresponded with his sister, Caroline, about his condition and well-being, but also wrote a great deal to Darcy. He was disappointed, however, to find his friend still in odd spirits and unwilling to discuss in any form the “matters of heart” which caused him to quit Rosings Park so abruptly. Poor Darcy must be under a real fit of the blue devils, Bingley thought as he pondered his friend’s reluctance to speak on the topic. He did, indeed, bemoan the fact that he had not been able to see his friend since the spring, and was overjoyed when he received a letter expressing an invitation to Pemberley for the second week of July—once he had recovered, and returned to London. Bingley also lamented the thought of so much travel, particularly because he was already in the north, but it had been over a month since he was in town, and there were compulsory matters of business that must be attended before he could depart for any kind of holiday.
His condition having improved enough to allow for travel, Bingley purchased a used buggy and departed Hull for London. When he arrived, he spent three complete days heeding the demands of his various companies and setting plans straight, after which he slept for nearly two more. He dreamt continually of Jane Bennet, as was typical, and felt tremendous anxiety about not only her wellbeing, but her marital status. Surely no woman as handsome and kind and pure of heart could remain unattached for long—particularly after what must have felt a terrible spurning after his hasty and enigmatic departure. How could I have been so daft as to allow circumstances to dictate the treatment of so admirable a young lady?
Once he was rested, he dined with Caroline, Louisa, and Mr. Hurst. He inquired—as subtly as possible—whether any of them had been in correspondence with Miss Bennet but received glum responses that she had not been heard from all this time. After the meal, Bingley gave Wilshere a dressing down over the fact that, since Maitland’s arrival in Meryton, neither the master nor the steward had received a single word from the young man, though judging from the accounts, it was clear that he was alive and spending his stipend daily. Mr. Wilshere, however, did have a report from Brighton that, recently, Miss Lydia Bennet had joined Colonel Forster’s wife as her “particular friend,” which only added to the appetence for a report from Maitland.
Once plans had been settled, it was agreed that the Bingleys would dine with the Darcys and depart for the north the following morning from their house on St. James Street. When the Bingleys arrived, they were received into the parlour where they were informed by a remorseful Georgiana Darcy that her brother had been summoned to depart that morning due to urgent business with his steward, Mr. Ballentine. What the devil has gotten into him? Bingley wondered. Aside from the absence of Darcy, the evening was merry and anticipatory.
The following morning, just minutes before their departure, Bingley received a note from Maitland, apologizing for his delayed correspondence, but assuring his master that all was well regarding the Bennet sisters—all of whom remained, as yet, unattached—aside from a small tryst within the family, accompanied by patronizing rumours through the village, caused by Lydia’s departure for Brighton. Maitland was, by this time, already halfway to Brighton himself, where he would send remarks as to any intelligence he might gain regarding the activities of George Wickham. Once he had read his man’s letter, the entire party set out for Pemberley. Bingley allowed himself to fancy the notion that not only was Jane Bennet still unmarried, but perhaps she was even awaiting his return. He thought he would use the days of travel to formulate a plan which would allow him to return to Netherfield Park, and perhaps stay there till the day he died.