A Dark Anatomy Read Free Page B

it?’
    â€˜That is not for me to say. I must summon a jury to decide by inquest how she died.’
    â€˜Happen inquest’ll be tomorrow?’
    â€˜If possible, the next day. It will be as soon as I can convene the jury.’
    â€˜And at Plough Inn?’
    â€˜You ask a lot of questions, Mr Pearson. Let me ask you one. When was the last time you – or any of you – saw your mistress alive?’

    â€˜She went out this morning,’ said Pearson. ‘I saddled the mare myself to be ready at six. That’s her time to ride out in morning.’
    â€˜Did she leave by herself?’
    A groom, Isaac Barrowford, ducked his head.
    â€˜No, she had the mare between her legs,’ he murmured.
    The others sniggered.
    â€˜Don’t be facetious, man,’ I said curtly. ‘A gentlewoman is dead, and this is no time for joking.’
    Â 
    A few minutes later a matron of fifty, generously proportioned and with a bold handsome face, bustled out through the kitchen door. It was Bethany Marsden, grandmother of Jonah, housekeeper at Garlick Hall and a thoroughly sensible body. I beckoned her aside and we walked across the cobbles, past the barn and towards the stable block at the far end of the L-shaped yard.
    â€˜So, Mrs Marsden, this is a shocking discovery.’
    â€˜Yes, sir. I thought it best to send you the message without delay. With Squire away from home, we weren’t sure, Miss Brockletower and I, if it was the county coroner that should attend, or the town. Then I remembered that you’d coronered the death of that young vagabond fellow that was found dead up in the Fulwood a year back. So Miss Brockletower asked me to write the note to you.’
    â€˜It was the right thing to do. A coroner’s duty is to enquire into death within his area of competence only when it is reported to him. The Fulwood belongs to Preston town, making the jurisdiction mine. The Bailiff of Preston, Mr Grimshaw, will have to be notified also, but you may leave that in my hands.’
    I was conscious of sounding pompous. Pomposity is a fault inherent in all who do legal work, and I know I am often guilty of it. I ask my reader for the same measure of forbearance that
I evidently received on that day from Bethany Marsden, who either did not notice it, or accepted it as natural in a figure like myself. I cleared my throat.
    â€˜Is, ah, Miss Brockletower very disturbed?’
    â€˜We all are, Mr Cragg. But Miss Brockletower has taken the news calmly enough. Of course – the way she is – any sudden stroke of bad news like this leaves her, you might say, in the dark …’
    â€˜Has anyone else been sent for?’
    â€˜Well, the first person to think of is the doctor. But, from all that Timothy Shipkin told me, he would be a mite too late. Then the magistrate, but of course that would be squire himself, and he’s not here. There’s old Mr Southworth at Goosnargh that’s still on the Bench after thirty-odd years, but he’s …’
    She paused as if hovering on the brink of an indelicacy. I completed the thought for her.
    â€˜Not likely to be wheeling over this way in his bath chair. Precisely. Does anyone else know?’
    â€˜Oh, I should say only everyone on the estate, by now. And Mr Woodley offered to ride over to give the news to Squire Brockletower’s uncle, the vicar. So he’ll have heard by now.’
    â€˜Mr Woodley?’
    â€˜Mr Barnabus Woodley. The gentleman that’s been superintending the works to the house. He’s gone off to the Rectory this past hour.’
    â€˜When is Mr Brockletower himself expected to return?’
    â€˜This evening.’
    â€˜And have you heard from him since he went to York?’
    â€˜Oh, no, not at all. He only left seven days ago.’
    â€˜Has he not written at all, even to his wife?’
    â€˜I believe it is some time since he wrote to his wife whilst away on business, Mr