Page 72 of Murder in Highbury

“I know that the past several years have been difficult for him. He’s a farm laborer—a steady worker until he injured his hand a few years ago. Shortly thereafter, his father died, and Dick lost the cottage they resided in. He currently lives in one of the poor cottages past the vicarage. Farmer Mitchell tries to employ Dick as much as he is able, usually working in the dairy.”

“So he’s obviously struggling.”

“That is a fair assessment. Why does it matter?”

“Because he made a quite vile threat against Mr. Elton. One might even call it a death threat.”

George’s eyebrows practically shot up to his hairline. “And how do you know this?”

She rubbed her finger over a slight imperfection in the wood of his desk.

“Emma?”

“Well, I just happened to see the note in which he made the threat.”

Her husband scoffed. “You just happened to see it.”

“Yes.”

“Where?”

“On Mr. Elton’s desk. But, George, it wassocrude. I cannot think Dick Curtis is very educated.”

That comment failed to deflect him. “And was Mr. Elton also in his office at the time you saw this note?”

“Well . . . no.”

“Emma—”

She held up a hand. “Mr. Elton has no idea that I saw it. He had stepped out for a few minutes when we called, so we decided to wait. The door to his office was open. I thought it made sense to . . . to look around a bit.”

“You mean go through his private papers.” He looked severe. “And what if he had discovered you snooping? Did you think of that?”

“Certainly. I set Harriet to keep a lookout. Mr. Elton never suspected a thing.”

He stared at her in disbelief. “You enlisted Harriet? I cannot imagine Robert would be very pleased about that.”

While that was undoubtedly true, she rather thought he was missing the point. “George, don’t you want to know what was in the note? I think it could be germane to the investigation.”

“Emma, I already warned you about this. You are not to interfere.”

“I’m not interfering. I’m finding potential clues, which is certainly more than one can say for Constable Sharpe.”

“Or me?”

She scoffed. “Dearest, I would never say such a thing. Now, do you want to know what I found, or would you rather just scowl at me?”

“Since my scowls have little effect, you’d best get on with it.”

“Thank you. As I said, it was a very threatening note. Dick Curtis called Mr. Elton aright bastard. He said that he wanted to rip Mr. Elton’s head off and shove it up his . . .” She wrinkled her nose. “Well, Mr. Elton’s posterior.”

George grimaced. “I’m sorry you had to read such a thing.”

“It’s no matter.”

“I do not want you or any other woman subjected to such crude and frightening language.”

“After discovering Mrs. Elton’s bloodstained corpse, it’s hard to get fussed about a spot of vulgar language. It was the intent of the note I found disturbing.”