Posted on : Monday, 30 October 2006
Mary, Mary Quite Contrary
How does your garden grow?
With silver bells and cockleshells
And gruesome bodies all in a row
Mary detested Halloween. Firstly, it was an American tradition that had no place in English society; secondly it required costumes.
This was no problem for Jane who would look gorgeous with a sack over her head, in fact Mary had suggested the sack as her costume for this year. Jane had not got the joke.
Lizzy was not as pretty as her elder sister, but she had the wit and vivacity to pull off any costume. Including that one time she'd rather gruesomely spent the evening walking around with a sabre stuck out of her head.
As for Mary's younger sisters, Kitty and Lydia, they were young and foolish enough to not mind how they looked as long as there was a lot of skin. If Mary didn't disapprove of the sluttiness; she'd have to approve of the recycling of costumes each year; after all there was only so much one could wear when being a naughty French maid.
As for herself, Mary had tried dressing up properly one time, but no one had guessed her costume and she had been sick of explaining to every person who asked, that she was Edmund Burke. This inevitably meant she had to explain who Edmund Burke was, which resulted in blank faces and comments like - "Oh so you decided to be a man did you? It was probably wise."
Then she'd let her mother choose her costume. That had been a mistake. Fanny Bennet had decided her only single daughter (at least that was not true this year as Lizzy had broken up with George Wickham) needed a man and what better way to attract a man than dressing up as a prostitute, of course Mrs. Bennet had insisted the costume was really Catwoman's costume but Mary like to call a spade a spade, after all who else would wear so much PVC?
Then Lydia had helped her pick a costume, Mary had made her promise it would not be something obscure she'd have to explain to everyone, or something that only required a lace handkerchief's worth of clothing. The result? A giant pumpkin costume.
So this year Mary had played it safe and worn her normal clothing. She was fully prepared for the questions and intended to say she'd come as a student. She'd perhaps be lauded for her ingenious and unique costuming choice but she rather doubted it.
So it was with some trepidation that Mary walked up the stairs to the annual Lucas Halloween Party. It was easy enough to slip in without being noticed by the crowd, and Mary hoped she could spend the evening sitting somewhere quietly reading her book, but it was not to be.
"Mary! Mary!" Mary turned and suddenly wished she hadn't. Lydia had apparently abandoned naughty French Maid this year and was playing Eve. Mary could only hope that her leaves were well glued.
"Yes, Lydia?"
"You'll never guess! Lady Lucas has put on a bit of a murder mystery for us!"
"Wow!" Mary tried to wiggle out of her persistent sister's grip; the night could only be made more horrendous by planned entertainment.
"Yes, apparently a murder will happen sometimes in the evening and then we have to sort it out! Someone will get a detective card and they will have to go interrogate people! Lady Lucas has it all planned out, some people will be in on it and have to arrange certain things to happen ... oh it will all be so much fun!"
"Happy days are here at last ... why do you not bother Kitty with these things, you know she'd have more fun than me?!"
Lydia frowned. "Kitty came as a nun, she's met this boy ... well he's so much older than her that she has no chance..."
Mary rolled her eyes - a nun. Kitty had little subtlety. Or perhaps that was the point.
Mary sighed with relief as Lydia was distracted by someone wearing the same costume as her - who on earth were these people who got up in the morning and thought 'I know! I'll go naked tonight!' - and stormed over to give Mary King a piece of her mind.
But Mary's plan of sneaking into the library was arrested by an Amazonian.
"I cannot believe the nerve of George!"
"I'm sorry, Lizzy?"
"George!"
"I'm sorry I have not the pleasure of understanding you?"
"Wickham!" said Lizzy impatiently. "The nerve of that man, first to come to this party when it's clearly my party. This is my territory. It's the first rule of breaking up you divide the friends! These are my friends, they were agreed upon!"
"Legally binding document?" asked Mary, she often wondered if that is how relationships worked, after all how else did you navigate them?
"Mary! Don't be silly. But he's only come as a Sultan, with Caroline Bingley and Louisa Hurst as his harem girls!"
Mary followed Lizzy's finger and saw that George Wickham had indeed some in some garish dress that could possibly be mistaken as Sultan-esque; if one squinted.
"I could kill him!"
"Well Lady Lucas is putting on a murder mystery; perhaps you'll have your chance."
"I'm going to go speak to her and see if I can!" with that Lizzy turned on her heel and stalked off.
Mary edged closer to the library only to feel vaguely nauseous, when she discovered Jane the shepherdess and her goat swain Charles Bingley canoodling on the couch.
"Mary?!"
Oh God! Mary turned to be confronted by their Reverend, who had clearly watched too much Rocky Horror, "Mr. Collins!"
"Now I wanted to say thank you for that useful tip about the fishnet stockings!"
"Of course, I had thought they were for Charlotte, but...well," Mary tried not to look down but it was like a train wreck one could not look away.
"Oh no, my darling little snow pea has decided to come as a zombie. Not much call for fishnet tights when you are a zombie. She needed more green makeup, which my benevolent friend Lady Catherine, you've met her have you not, such a great pity she could not be here tonight -"
"I'm sorry Mr. Collins but I have just spotted my sister Jane, I must go speak with her!"
"Oh of course, there will be much more time later on for me to tell you all about the difficulty of getting into these tights! Not to mention the corset - I feel quite like a woman; I was only telling Charlotte the other moment I might burn my bra, I feel like I understand women now - "
"Speak to you later Mr. Collins!" Mary fled as fast as the crowd would let her, she was jostled by a large person in a cowl with scythe, to take refuge on the Loved-up love seat.
"Jane!"
"Mary! Oh have you not changed?"
"No, I'm in costume, I'm a student!"
Jane blinked, "But Mary that is not getting into the spirit of things! At least promise you will play nicely when the murder happens!"
Mary had no time to answer for suddenly there was a scream and Lady Lucas - a fetching Lady of the Night (Mary could not tell which type) - made a dramatic entrance from the first floor and clutched the banister.
"It's ... it's ... Colonel Fitzwilliam! He's dead!"
Of course Colonel Fitzwilliam was not dead. Mary did not even think he was a real Colonel. He had probably liked KFC far too much as a child or something.
Anyway it was really quite disturbing to have the 'dead' Colonel laid out on a bed constantly winking at people as Lady Lucas told everyone in a dramatic voice how she had found the body.
It was wander away or start laughing.
Unfortunately Mary wandered down the stairs and almost tripped over Caroline Bingley.
Who was lying, neck grotesquely askew at the bottom of the stairs.
Either she was an excellent actress or Caroline was in fact actually dead.
Mary wondered who she should tell, but before she could decide, a shrill shriek of 'She's dead!" resounded behind her and suddenly Mary was the centre of attention.
Mary attempted to explain the situation to Sir William, but he kept wringing his hands together.
"Mary! You didn't really push her down the stairs did you?" hissed Lizzy into her ear.
"No! I found her like this!"
"Pity!" said Lizzy.
"Now, now everyone, it's clear what has happened, Caroline was wearing very high heels and it was all an unfortunate accident." Mr. Darcy, who was apparently coming in the very out of character guise of a modern banker, took charge, after shepherding his shy sister, Georgiana (dressed as ethereally as Titania) away from the gruesome scene.
In any other circumstances, a death should have marred the evening, but Lady Lucas appeared to labour under the delusion that Caroline would have wanted the night to go on. That she would never have wanted to be the centre of attention.
Mary took refuge outside. The Lucas estate had a romantic bench that nestled amongst the rose bushes and allowed an excellent prospect of the lake. Although if one wasn't a real estate brochure one would have said, someone had taken an old log and chucked in the middle of a briar patch and if one sat on it they would see the hole Sir William had given up digging in order to plant trees and now was filled with mud.
It was also apparently directly under one of the upstairs windows, this fact became painfully apparent when George Wickham fell from it.
It was only a two story house and a fall of that nature should not be enough to necessarily kill, except that George had a small axe stuck in his head.
Mary stared. She wondered if it was like Wilde - To be the first to come across one body might be considered a misfortune, to come across two, looks decidedly suspicious.
However just as Mary was about to tiptoe away, she was interrupted by Lydia shrieking.
Once again she was forced to explain what had happened and deny Lizzy's accusation that perhaps she had accidentally put an axe in George's head and pushed him out of a window and once again Darcy took charge of the situation.
Mary locked herself in the library. She was not going to trip over any more bodies, or have any more fall past her (she closed the draped with a firm hand). Wilde had not mentioned any third occurrence, but Mary was sure it meant arrest.
The problem with locking herself in the library was that she had not checked to see if there were any decent books (and Mary had managed to lose her the book she had brought in all the excitement of the dead bodies). Apparently the Lucas' felt that cupboards that cleverly looked like bookcases were all one needed to have a proper library. After finding nothing but cosmetics on the first wall, Mary tried the next, only to have Lady Catherine de Bourgh fall out.
She didn't fall out quickly having been wedged into the space. First her hand flopped out, then her head, then she sort of slid out. It was incredibly ungraceful and if she had been alive she would have made a cutting comment about it.
Mary just stared. She had not thought that Lady Catherine had even been at the party. Lady Catherine was not the type to attend such a bourgeois party.
It then dawned on Mary that she was locked in the same room as a body. However she was unable to make a quick escape as Charles was at the door and screamed when he saw over Mary's shoulder, Lady Catherine - stocking still firmly around neck - slumped on the floor.
After Mr. Collins (who was a reverend after all) had confirmed that Lady Catherine had clearly been dead some time, Mary had been released from the temporary prison that was the pantry.
She had also decided it was time to go home; which may have been a mistake.
If she hadn't left the house to find her car, she wouldn't have found Colonel Fitzwilliam, this time very dead, lying on the bonnet of her car.
"Deputy Sacks, take me away!" Mary held out her hands to the growing crowd.
"I'm sorry, who is Deputy Sacks?"
Mary rolled her eyes, "Do none of you watch Veronica Mars - oh wait I'm sorry that's an intelligent show of course you don't - what I mean is - clearly I've found four bodies now; just arrest me now."
"Are you confessing?" asked Kitty, clinging to her leather clad motorcyclist - someone had been watching too much Rebel without a Cause.
"No! I just think I'd stop finding dead bodies if you locked me up!"
"But who is murdering them?" said Mrs. Bennet all of a flutter.
"You are only asking this after we've found four of them?!"
"Well ... three might be unrelated..." trailed off Mrs. Bennet.
When Mary had gone to the bathroom in order to freshen up - and attempt not to have a nervous breakdown, she'd found Mary King drowned in the bath. Now even Jane was looking askance at her.
Clearly, she had to figure out who was on a murdering spree, or she'd be forever associated with these deaths.
The first thing she needed to decide was whether she was being set up. Was someone deliberately stalking her placing bodies in her wake, or was it an accident.
Mary tried to think of what she was known for: wandering away from crowds (check), hiding outside during parties (check), locking herself in the library (check) trying to escape party by going home (check), hiding in the bathroom (check) playing the piano (no check).
Mary sidled away from the commotion in the ballroom, as the police were called (again) and as the gentlemen tried to revive the various ladies who had fainted to be interesting.
She made her way to the conservatory and eyed the piano. There was no one. She gave a sigh of relief.
So it was all accidental, she just happened to be very unlucky in finding the bodies.
Mary sat on the piano bench to try and think what the next step should be; she idly pressed some of the keys in an attempt to call up a jovial ditty. Instead of the tinkling notes, she got a dull thud.
Mary had a foreboding feeling as she stood up to raise the lid of the grand piano.
Sure enough, wedged in the space - who knew how - was Mr. Collins. He looked as if he had been poisoned.
Mary closed the lid. She did not need anyone else to realise she'd found six dead bodies.
This made the situation dire.
Mary commandeered a note book and a pencil and stared at it.
Question 1: Right who would want to either frame her for deaths, or make her go crazy for the amount of dead bodies she kept finding?
Mary drew a blank. She scribbled out the question.
Question 1: Right who would want to either frame her for deaths, or make her go crazy for the amount of dead bodies she kept finding?Question 2: Had she annoyed anyone recently?
Mary thought about it. There was that one man at the tube station who she'd spoken to severely about the misogynistic slogan on his t-shirt. But he would have had to follow her from London to stalk her, and if the slogan on his t-shirt was correct she doubted he'd have the inclination, or the time.
Apart from that, she could not think of anyone she'd annoyed that hadn't been annoyed by someone else more.
So scratch that one. Mary decided she'd never be Nancy Drew.
Question 1: Right who would want to either frame her for deaths, or make her go crazy for the amount of dead bodies she kept finding?
Question 2: Had she annoyed anyone recently?Question 3: Who hated the killed enough to want to kill them?
That was a far more profitable answer, because she (as a target) could have been randomly picked. It would not take that much to randomly decide that, whereas to kill individuals, individually, most people needed a reason.
Right so who would want to kill Caroline ... hmmmm ... er ... perhaps it would be easier to list who would not want to kill Caroline.
There must be an easier victim mused Mary. Mary King!
Mary thought, and thought and thought. She did not even think anyone knew Mary King apart from Wickham, and despite Mary thinking Wickham was capable of many things rising from the axe was not one of them.
Mr. Collins ... same problem as Caroline.
Lady Catherine ... only difficulty in picking a murderer was one who would dare go anywhere near Lady Catherine.
Wickham ... Mary immediately thought of a name and then wondered if it was sisterly to have your only suspect be your elder sister? Lizzy would certainly be capable of cold blooded murder.
Colonel Fitzwilliam ... Mary could not think of a conceivable reason why anyone would kill the Colonel. Tie him up yes. Hold him prisoner somewhere (preferably with glass walls so one could observe) yes. Kill - not really.
Mary gave up.
Question 1: Right who would want to either frame her for deaths, or make her go crazy for the amount of dead bodies she kept finding?
Question 2: Had she annoyed anyone recently?
Question 3: Who hated the killed enough to want to kill them?Question 4: Is everyone connected in some way?!?
Mary began to furiously write. This she could handle.
Caroline: sister to Charles, sister to Louisa, ex-girlfriend of Darcy, lover of rich men everywhere.Wickham: ex-boyfriend of Lizzy, pursued (possibly) by Mary King, lover of women, ex-friend of Darcy
Lady Catherine: aunt of Darcy and Georgiana, patroness (who even had these anymore?) of Mr. Collins. Annoyance to everyone everywhere.
Colonel Fitzwilliam: cousin of Darcy and Georgiana. Ex-boyfriend of Charlotte Collins (again a reason Charlotte was a moron, she exchanged pretty stupidity for ugly stupidity. At least a gag solved the first problem!) Lover of women everywhere. Pursued by Caroline Bingley.
Mary King: who knows! Nemesis of Lydia (?!?) possibly after George Wickham?
Mr. Collins: husband of Charlotte (ugh) the protégé of Lady Catherine. Cousin of the Bennets. (Had ignored current law) and was the ex-pre-fiancée of Lizzy.
Mary looked at her list. Then it all clicked into place.
And if she was right she knew who the next victim was....
She ran through the house to the butler's pantry (probably the last place anyone on earth but Mary herself would have gone) and there they were: the murderer about to heft a bottle of sherry at their last victim who was cowering in the corner.
"Stop it right there Georgiana!" said Mary in her most commanding voice.
The petite fairy turned to her; "Why?"
"Because, if you kill Lizzy with that sherry bottle, I'll know about it!"
"Then I'll just kill you too!" retorted Georgiana. "After all it's not that hard to kill people! I practiced on Mrs. Young and Mrs. Annesley and no one even noticed!"
Mary blinked. This was not how things were supposed to go. In movies when the killer was cornered they gave up, and the almost victim usually helped instead of continuing to cower in the corner!
"Lizzy! Get up!" said Mary as she tried to back towards the door.
"Don't you want to know why I did it?" said Georgiana shrilly, twirling the sherry around her head.
"Er ... not particularly," said Mary.
"Well obviously Mrs. Annesley was just for practice. So was Mrs. Younge, but she was the one who set me up with George so ... then of course Caroline because she always wanted to be so friendly with me. Then George because leaving *me* for another woman - that's just not on. My Aunt ... she's a bore. My cousin - he told me I was sweet! Can you believe that? Mary - well she shouldn't have thought George was a good target of her wiles, and Mr. Collins - well he bored me. And your sister? She had George and I could tell she wanted my brother - no one has my brother but me."
Ew ... thought Mary, as she took the chance given by Georgiana's grandstanding (at least one thing was going as per movie script) to grab Lizzy and flee the room.
Slamming the door (which was the type that locked upon closing, apparently the Butler was afraid of the sherry going walkabout) in Georgiana's shocked face was possibly the highlight of Mary's night.
The whole thing certainly meant Lady Lucas would have a hard time topping the event next year.
However Mary was not going to attend, perhaps she'd take up gardening instead.