Page 125 of Murder in Highbury

“If you’re implying thatIwithhold information fromyou, that is simply untrue. I always tell you everything.”

“Eventually,” he wryly replied.

She couldn’t really deny the point. “I would still like to know what you’re thinking.”

“I’m surprised it hasn’t already occurred to you.”

“Please humor me.”

“Very well. I’m thinking how easy it should be to ascertain Suckling’s whereabouts on the day of the murder. If he was in London, he should be able to prove that.”

She sighed. “I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

Undoubtedly, the shocks of the past twenty-four hours, coupled with lack of sleep, had addled her brain.

“Mrs. Suckling should be able to account for her husband’s movements,” George added.

“But could be she counted upon to tell the truth if it casts her husband in an unpleasant light?”

“We shall see if Mr. Elton can shed light on some of these questions. If, that is, he is well enough to receive us.”

“He’ll see us.” Even when Mrs. Elton was alive and relations were frosty, Mr. Elton never turned down an invitation to Hartfield or refused to see Mr. Knightley.

They walked in silence for a few moments, with only the twitter of sparrows disturbing the quiet of Vicarage Lane.

“George, doyoubelieve Mr. Suckling is the murderer?” she finally asked.

“I reserve judgment, but the presence of the stolen necklace, for one, seems rather definitive.”

The necklace did rather trump other considerations.

“He’s certainly an unpleasant person,” Emma mused, “and it’s become clear that he and Mr. Elton had a troubled relationship.”

“One that now seems to have extended to Mrs. Elton, as well.”

“What a tangled web,” she said with a grimace. “If he did murder Mrs. Elton, I cannot help wondering if Mrs. Suckling knew. Perhaps that’s why she never came down to Highbury. She couldn’t face Mr. Elton.”

“An excellent question.”

Another thought darted into her head, and she grabbed her husband’s sleeve. “George, what if shedoesknow andapprovesof Mr. Suckling’s actions? Wouldn’t that implicate her in the crime?”

He shot her a startled frown. “That’s a grim thought. But a wife cannot be made to testify against her husband, which would make it difficult to arrive at the truth in that regard.”

Emma blew out a frustrated sigh. “How convenient for them. So, they could give each other an alibi for that day?”

“Correct. Under the law, husband and wife are considered to be one person, and one cannot be forced to testify against himself or herself.”

“That’s annoying.”

“It wouldn’t matter, anyway. In criminal cases a wife is not considered competent to give reliable testimony.”

She stopped dead in her tracks, irritation turning to disgust. “You’re joking.”

“I’m the magistrate, my dear. I would never joke about something like that.”

With the vicarage now in sight, she took his elbow and began to march forward. “Believing a wife is not competent to testify is a completely antiquated way of thinking, George. I hope you realize that.”

“I do. And if I am ever on trial for committing a crime, I will make it clear that any evidence you wish to present against me is completely reliable.”