Pride and Premeditation (Jane Austen Murder Mystery #1)(82)
“A button! You’re going to indict me over a missing button? How many of you have missing or stray buttons? That button could have come from any haberdashery or sewing box!”
“Considering the amount of evidence that is up against you, I would advise you to hold your tongue, sir,” Lord Weatherford warned. He looked to Lizzie. “I trust that you have more?”
“Just one more thing, sir.” She turned and found Darcy holding out the false insurance policy. The look of open admiration on his face almost caused her to falter, but she pressed on. “Mr. Hurst was employed by Mr. Bingley at Netherfield Shipping. He was responsible for a number of inconsequential clerical duties. Witnesses will account for the fact that Hurst was a dismal employee, and Mr. Bingley limited his brother-in-law’s power within the business. Yet upon his death, this insurance document was found among Hurst’s belongings. I conferred with Mr. Bingley and Mr. Darcy, and they both informed me they had no knowledge of the document.”
“I’d like to see it,” the judge said, and Lizzie handed off the forgery to the bailiff. Weatherford examined it, his expression betraying nothing. “Go on.”
“It’s a falsification,” Lizzie said bluntly. “Mr. Hurst was in serious financial trouble. Witnesses will account for his multiple debts, and Mr. Bingley has admitted to bailing him out in the past. However, knowing how he mismanaged and squandered money, Mr. Bingley would have never entrusted Mr. Hurst with a task as important as insuring the company.”
Lizzie let that settle. “Piracy, as I am sure you are aware, sir, is quite a dire problem. Most merchants report a loss of thirty to forty percent of their goods due to piracy each year. Mr. Bingley, however, lost nearly eighty percent of his goods in the last year alone. No company wished to insure him. Except this one, a company no one has ever heard of, charging shockingly reasonable rates and containing no terms of cancellation.”
“Indeed,” Weatherford said, sounding curious. Lizzie had to keep from smiling.
“Which led me to suspect that it was a ruse, meant to mask the document’s true purpose: extorting money from shipping companies in the form of false premiums in exchange for protection from pirate ships.”
Again, the court gasped. But the judge did not reach for his gavel. “How did you come to this conclusion?”
“Because the mastermind behind this plot approached me herself,” Lizzie told him pleasantly. “She’s a woman going by the name of Lady Catherine de Bourgh, and she wished to recruit my help, although she didn’t reveal her illegal dealings to me at the time. I declined, as I’m more than busy assisting my father, but her offer allowed me to connect a few important points about the nature of her work.”
“This is nonsense—” the prosecutor attempted to say, but the judge banged his gavel without looking at him and gestured for Lizzie to continue.
“I examined the document, along with Mr. Darcy and my father. You’ll notice, sir, that the wording is very precise, peculiar. It is of a particular style, one that I had seen many times while working for my father at his firm. The documents that shared a style with this one also shared a common author: Mr. Collins.”
“She’s a liar!” Mr. Collins shouted.
“Enough from you, sir! I am finding you in contempt. Take him into custody!”
Two bailiffs came forward with iron manacles. “Don’t take him far,” Lizzie requested, “for I’m certain you’ll want to question him soon.”
The bailiff gagged Mr. Collins, and Lizzie continued. “My suspicions were confirmed just this morning, when I consulted with Longbourn’s legal secretary, Miss Lucas. She compared the handwriting on this forgery with a memo signed by Mr. Collins, and confirmed that they match. We invited Mr. Collins to call under the ruse of a social visit, and I inquired as to what his ambitions for the future were. He confessed to me that Lady Catherine de Bourgh was his benefactress, and that she had offered him land and an appointment to magistrate if he killed Hurst. Hurst was too much of a liability, getting drunk each night at his club, and I suspect Lady Catherine was concerned he wouldn’t be able to keep a secret in such a state. By implicating Mr. Bingley in his murder, whoever succeeded him as head of Netherfield would be ignorant that the false insurance policy premiums were actually protection fees to pirates, and Lady Catherine would continue to profit.”
“These are serious allegations,” the judge said. “How did Mr. Collins answer to them?”
“By threatening my life and brandishing a penknife—and not the one my father gave him.”
Lizzie removed the penknife, wrapped in her handkerchief, from her reticule and placed it on the table in front of her.
“Sir, I request that if this account matches witness statements, all charges against Mr. Bingley be dropped, and charges of unlawful entry and premeditated murder in the first degree be brought against Mr. Collins.”
Lizzie knew that recommending charges was not the job of a defense counsel, but she couldn’t resist—she felt authoritative and empowered, as if she could demand the crown jewels and her request might actually be considered. But, it was best not to get too carried away. She waited for the judge’s response.
“Very well,” Weatherford said. “You say that you are employed by your father?”
She glanced at Mr. Bennet, who beamed back at her in pride. “Yes, sir.”