Page 32 of Murder in Highbury

Mr. Suckling scowled at her. “My wife is too distressed by Augusta’s murder. She will remain in London, where she will be safe.”

Emma was about to point out that murderers were hardly running about Highbury in broad daylight until she realized that at least one murderer might, in fact, be doing just that.

“I didn’t realize you were staying in London, sir,” she replied with an apologetic smile. “That, at least, is more convenient, since it is only sixteen miles from Highbury.”

“There’s nothing convenient about running back and forth between London and Highbury, I assure you.”

Good God.The man was rudeness personified.

“Mr. Suckling, we had no prior knowledge of your travel arrangements,” George said in austere tones. “Or what is convenient for you and Mrs. Suckling.”

Mr. Elton looked vaguely alarmed. “Of course not. Horace and Selina traveled to London only a week ago, to avail themselves of some shopping. Then they intended to travel here for their long-awaited visit.” His face crumpled a bit. “Augusta was so looking forward to showing Highbury to her dear sister. She particularly wished to introduce Selina to you, Mrs. Knightley.”

Emma grimaced in sympathy. “How very sad, sir. I have heard Mrs. Elton speak many times of the anticipated pleasures of her sister’s visit.”

“Yes,” Mr. Suckling brusquely put in. “Selina is very cut up about it.”

Unlike her husband, it seemed.

“Now,” he continued, “may we turn to more pressing matters? I must away to London this afternoon, and I was hoping to hear a report on the investigation before I leave. Knightley, I understand that you’re the local magistrate. What can you tell me thus far?”

Knightley?

Really, he was even ruder than Mrs. Elton had been.

Her husband coolly nodded. “I shall be happy to do so, if Mr. Elton desires it.”

“I don’t know why he should object. Selina will wish for a report, and God knows I took care of Augusta for years before her marriage. There should be no question that I am entitled to hear the report.”

Emma was caught by his turn of phrase. What did he mean bytook careof Mrs. Elton? And why was he so combative?

“I have no objection, Horace,” the vicar replied in a mild tone.

“Splendid. Then let’s get on with it.”

“As you must surely surmise,” George said, “we are in the early stages of the investigation. The coroner and the constable are questioning witnesses, and arrangements are being made for the inquest, which begins tomorrow.”

With an admirable economy of words, he related the relevant details and the arrangements for the inquest. After Mr. Suckling brusquely interrupted several times, Emma wished that for once her husband would respond in kind—or at least call him Suckling instead of Mr. Suckling.

“The killer was obviously after Augusta’s necklace and didn’t care how he got it,” said Mr. Suckling. “Bad luck, Philip. I know how much you spent on the piece.”

“Good God, Horace!” Mr. Elton exclaimed. “I would gladly give up a hundred necklaces to have my beloved wife back.”

His brother-in-law rolled his eyes. “Knightley, are there any leads on this thief, or is my sister-in-law likely to be denied justice?”

“We should refrain from making any assumptions at this point.”

“So you have no leads,” Mr. Suckling dismissively replied.

Emma couldn’t help but bristle. “In point of fact, sir, we don’t even know if the murdererwasa random thief or if theft was the original motive in the case.”

George shot her a warning glance. “My dear, perhaps it might be—”

“What the devil can you mean, Mrs. Knightley?” Mr. Suckling demanded.

“Horace, such language in the presence of a lady is hardly fitting,” Mr. Elton admonished.

“What isn’tfittingis Augusta’s murder. And I would still like an answer, if I may.”