Page 96 of Murder at Donwell Abbey

When she glanced at Larkins, his entire expression suggested extreme surprise and shock. In that moment, Emma would swear on the Good Book that Larkins was as stunned as she was. He’d obviously had no idea what had been hidden under the bedroom floor like a hideous secret.

“Larkins, what can you tell me about this?” George asked in a troubled voice.

The steward rubbed an agitated hand over his head. “I don’t know what to say, sir. I’ve never seen those packages in my life.”

“So, you’re saying that someone snuck into your cottage and stowed them there?” the constable sarcastically asked.

“Well, I damn well didn’t put them there,” Larkins retorted. Then he grimaced. “Begging your pardon, Mrs. Knightley, but I swear I don’t know how they got there.”

“I believe you, Mr. Larkins,” Emma replied.

“And that board has never been loose, at least not recently,” he added. “I would have noticed if it was.”

“I’m sure you would have,” she soothingly replied. “George, there must be a reasonable explanation for this.”

“Larkins, do you lock your door when you leave your cottage?” George asked.

He nodded. “Always, sir. I have some good pieces of silver I inherited from my ma. I’d be that upset if they were stolen.”

Emma mentally winced. Clearly, the poor man had no idea that his reply was a problem. His brogue was also starting to manifest itself, a sure sign he was perturbed.

“An enterprising thief could certainly pick the lock to your door,” she said.

“Mrs. Knightley, thieves don’t pick doors to come in and stash stolen goods,” said Constable Sharpe. “They pick locks to come in andstealthings, not stow them.”

Sadly, his logic was sound.

“Constable, the information you received specifically stated you would find smuggled goods under the floorboards?” said George.

“It did, sir.”

Emma scrambled to think. “That makes no sense. How would that person even know about the loose floorboard unless he’d broken in and planted those packages himself, to deliberately cast suspicion on Mr. Larkins.”

The constable scoffed. “That’s a leap if I ever heard one. People don’t go around framing people for smuggling and such like.”

She stared at him, incredulous. “Peopledoframe innocent people, you might recall, even for murder. And, again, how would someone know about a loose floorboard in the bedroom, so as to alert you to its presence?”

“Who said it was in the bedroom?” the constable retorted. “And I don’t need to be explaining myself to you, Mrs. Knightley.”

“No, but you will explain yourself to me,” said George in a stern voice. “My wife has asked a very reasonable question, one I would like answered.”

When Sharpe began to protest, George cut him off. “Immediately, Constable Sharpe.”

The annoying man grumbled but finally replied. “I received an anonymous note this morning.”

“When?”

“Early, it was slipped under my door.”

Larkins snorted, his disdain clear.

“May I see this note?” George asked.

Sharpe squirmed a bit. “I left it back at my house.”

Emma huffed with growing outrage. “This is utterly ridiculous. The very fact that it’s an anonymous note proves my point. Someone is clearly trying to cast suspicion on Larkins, although why they would wish to do so I cannot imagine. It’s not as if there’s any evidence of smugglers actuallyinHighbury.”

“Of course there is,” said Sharpe. “He’s standing right in front of us.”