Chapter 30
After two hearty meals and a good night’s sleep in a comfortable bed, Collins was ready to face the world. Feeling much better about himself and his problems, he went to find the landlord.
“Is there a reputable bank in this town?” Collins asked when he was shown into the landlord’s office.
“Indeed, Mr Collins, you are in luck. We are very close to it. It is the Simonds Bank and it is but a few hundred yards from the inn,” the landlord replied.
With the stench coming from the man, the landlord hoped Mr Collins would vacate his office soon.
He tolerated him because the fool was paying twice as much for his chamber than for what it was normally rented.
The coachman who brought him had mentioned the man’s lack of intelligence.
The longer he was happy at the inn, the more money the landlord would earn.
“They are open now, so if you exit the inn, turn left, and walk a little, you cannot miss it.”
“Thank you,” Collins responded condescendingly. He was pleased by the deference the man showed him. It was obvious that he was still being treated like a clergyman, which could only mean news of his defrocking had not reached Berkshire yet.
Collins did as the landlord told him and easily found the Simonds Bank. Due to the amount of the draft, he was shown into the office of the manager, a Mr Edmund Simonds.
“Mr Collins, we appreciate your patronage; however, we verify any draft over the amount of one hundred pounds, which, as the bank it is drawn on is in London, it will take at least a sennight for a man to reach Town, do the verifications, retrieve the funds, and then return. Once he returns, I will be happy to give you funds in the amount of the draft, minus our commission and fees, of course.” Simonds was the nephew of one of the men who founded the bank in 1791, a William Simonds.
“But why must I wait? This draft is drawn on an account of the house of de Bourgh! Surely you must know it is valid?” Collins demanded.
“That may be true, Mr Collins, but I cannot violate the bank’s policies for anyone,” Simonds retorted.
He had to fight to maintain his equanimity due to the stench of the man before him.
“You are free to take your draft and seek assistance from another bank. There are others in Berkshire but not in Reading.”
The last thing he wanted to do was ride around and try to find another bank, so Collins capitulated.
“I will be back in a sennight. If your man returns before then, I am at the Crown and Garter Inn.” Collins forced himself out of the chair.
Before he left, the manager handed him a receipt acknowledging that he had possession of the draft and the amount thereof.
Even though he did not like the delay, Collins still had more than one hundred fifty pounds left of the money Miss de Bourgh had given him, so he was not in danger of running out of funds in a sennight.
On his return to the Crown and Garter, Collins huffed and puffed his way up the stairs to his chamber so he could rest and think of ways to get rid of his cousin’s new wife. He could not allow her to provide him a male heir because Longbourn would be lost to the Collins line forever.
Two hours of thinking brought Collins no closer to a plan.
He knew that he needed to employ someone who would do the deed for him so he would be far away when it was done, but he had no idea where to find a man willing to take a life for money.
It was not like he could go about the town making enquiries for such a man.
Seeing that his cogitations brought him no solution, Collins made his way down to the public room to take his midday meal.
He took an open table near three red-coated soldiers. Collins guessed they must be officers to be eating at the inn.
The three officers were Denny, Saunderson, and Wickham.
“No, Wickham, I will not lend you any more coin until you pay me what you owe. Between the money and debts of honour, you owe me twenty pounds, and that is just to me,” Denny responded to another request for money from Wickham.
“Do not look to me, Wickham,” Saunderson added. “You owe me twelve pounds.”
“Until I receive the bequest, which has been delayed by that prig about whom I told you, all I have is the pittance of a wage the militia pays me,” Wickham whinged. It was frustrating that his brother officers were no longer willing to give him blunt.
“Denny, is this not the same Wickham who told us that four pounds a month was not a problem for him?” Saunderson mocked.
“Yes, Saunderson, the very same one,” Denny agreed.
“I will receive a good portion of my money soon, at the latest when we arrive in Meryton. I just need a loan to tide me over until then,” Wickham prevaricated. His so-called friends stood.
“This is the last meal we pay for on your behalf. After this, you eat whatever slop is served at the encampment.” Denny said before he followed Saunderson.
“I would do anything for some coin,” Wickham mumbled to himself.
“You there, soldier, come join me,” Collins called out. He had been listening to the conversation while he ate. There had been nothing of note until the one man mentioned Meryton, and the one remaining made a comment about being willing to do anything for money.
Wickham looked at the corpulent man who called him. He had a quick internal debate and decided he had nothing to lose by going to sit with the sweating man.
“Lieutenant George Wickham at your service,” he said as he sat down.
“Reverend William Collins.” The officer and those close to them in the public eating room would not know that he was no longer a clergyman. “I understand from what I heard that you need to earn some money. Is that correct?”
“What of it?” Wickham asked suspiciously.
‘I have standards; if he is a molly, I will not do that with a man no matter what he offers. But I suppose, I could agree to meet him and relieve him of his coin. If he is a molly, he will not go to the magistrate because he can be hung,’ he reasoned silently.
“It is not something to be discussed in public. Wait for me to leave and then come to room five. I will tell you what I want done,” Collins said in sotto voce. Seeing a nod from the officer, Collins stood and made his way back to his chamber.
‘I have nothing to lose and possibly much to gain. All I have to do is to be able to breathe in his odour without reacting. Hopefully not for long,’ Wickham thought as he watched the very overweight man lumber towards the stairs.
He waited a few minutes to allow Collins time to reach his chamber.
As soon as he judged enough time had passed, Wickham stood and as nonchalantly as he could, he sauntered towards the stairs.
The door was answered after one knock. Wickham entered the chamber and looked around. It was a comfortable looking room, much better than his spartan quarters.
“Mr Wickham, did you mean what you said when I heard you would do anything for money?” Collins enquired.
Seeing that he wanted to know what the obese man wanted, Wickham was not about to tell him what he would not do. “Yes, that is what I meant, what of it? What is it that you need?”
Collins pointed to one of the armchairs near the fireplace. “Sit and I will tell you.”
Wickham did so, his one hand resting casually on the hilt of his sabre.
Seeing the man’s hand on his sword, Collins swallowed nervously.
“I am the rightful heir to an estate near the town of Meryton in Hertfordshire. If I understand, you will soon be in that town, will you not?” Mr Wickham nodded it was so.
“Even though I commanded him not to remarry, my cousin has done so in contravention of all that is right and godly. If his new wife delivers a son, he will be able to steal my birthright from me.” Collins did not say that as soon as his cousin was single again he would have the pick of Cousin Bennet’s very comely daughters.
“What has this to do with me and money?”
“My cousin married a woman with the mark of the devil on her left cheek. It is almost entirely covered with the evil one’s colour. I am looking for a man who will remove this demon woman from God’s world. I am willing to pay you a thousand pounds to rid me of this problem.”
“I will do what you need, but I must have half now if you want me to act.” Wickham would take his five hundred pounds and use it to leave the country.
“I do not have the money in hand yet; however, I do have this receipt from Simonds Bank.” Collins handed the paper to the officer.
“As you can see I will have more than enough money to pay you. But I will only pay you the full amount if you are able to prove you have done the deed. For now, I am willing to give you fifty pounds.”
Wickham could see that the receipt was genuine. Fifty pounds would make him flush for now. He could pay at least Denny and Saunderson back, so the next time he needed it, he would borrow far more than he would repay them.
As he thought, the question became how could he make his way to this Meryton soon?
That was when he remembered the advance party for which he had not volunteered as there was much work to do in order to set up the new encampment in Hertfordshire.
He knew there was still a need for some officers, so he would add his name.
He had never before murdered anyone, but in order to earn a thousand pounds—and he intended to get most of the idiot’s money from him—and more, made it worthwhile.
With that amount, he would have enough to leave England and never have to worry about Darcy or Fitzwilliam again.
Getting the rest of the money from this man whom Wickham judged was not very intelligent, would not be difficult.
He knew how to ensure he had leverage over him.
“Mr Collins, I will be leaving for Meryton in the next few days. Can you come to a town close to it, so we can arrange to meet when it is done, and I can show you proof of my work?”