Page 37 of Murder in Highbury
Emma mustered a consoling smile. “It’s a distressing business, but the inquest should go quickly, since only a determination of murder must be made. There is no doubt of that.”
“I should hope so, for Mr. Elton’s sake,” Susan chimed in. “It cannot be very nice to have poor Mrs. Elton lying in the vicarage drawing room in all this heat while they wait for the burial.”
“Hideous,” Anne commented with a certain degree of relish.
Both Mrs. Cole and Mrs. Gilbert looked aghast, and Harriet turned rather green.
Susan, however, was oblivious to the effect of her unfortunate remark. And why she must wearthatparticular shade of puce with her freckled complexion was an enduring mystery. Then again, neither of the sisters had ever suffered from an excess of good taste.
“I should think it would be very exciting to sit on the coroner’s jury,” Anne said. “You get to hear all the gory detailsandsee the body. It’s sohorriblythrilling, just like one of Mrs. Radcliffe novels.”
“There is nothing thrilling about it,” Emma replied in blighting tones.
“I shouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy,” Harriet quietly said.
Anne flipped a dangling curl over her shoulder. “La, Harriet, I didn’t take you for such a chicken heart. I’m sure I should have been very brave in your situation.”
Emma had to resist the urge to box the girl’s ears. “Mrs. Martin acted with commendable courage in a dreadful situation. And I can only hope that everyone in Highbury will behave with the same sensitivity she has also displayed in the aftermath.”
Anne bristled. “I’m sure Susan and I would have done everything proper if we’d discovered the body. You may be sure of that, Mrs. Knightley.”
Emma turned her back on her to address Mrs. Ford. “My father is in need of a new pair of gloves, ma’am. Nothing too heavy, but a nice, soft kid that would be suitable for summer wear.”
The woman sprang into action. “If you’ll step over to the shelves, I can show you a lovely selection that’s come in just this week from London.”
Emma took her time perusing the gloves, hoping the Cox girls would vacate the premises. But they continued to linger by a collection of plumed bonnets, carelessly trying them on and exchanging whispers. Mrs. Cole and Mrs. Gilbert, meanwhile, had fallen into a fairly innocuous conversation about the upcoming funeral.
Emma inspected a pair of dove-gray gloves. “What do you think of these, Harriet?”
Harriet gave the question her full consideration. “They’re very nice, but do you think—”
“La, how can you think about gloves when there’s a desperate killer running about Highbury,” Anne loudly exclaimed. “It makes my blood quiver like icicles just thinking about it.”
Emma raised her eyebrows. “Miss Cox, icicles do not quiver. As to your other point, I hardly think you are correct.”
Susan imitated her sister’s defiant stance. “But Miss Bates was running all about the village around the time of the murder. Acting very oddly, according to Mama.”
“Surely you cannot be suggesting that Miss Bates had anything to do with the murder,” Mrs. Cole exclaimed, clearly shocked.
“Why couldn’t she?” Anne boldly stated. “She’s poor, and everyone knows that poor people will do anything to survive.”
There were gasps all around.
Emma looked down her nose at Anne. “What a decidedly uncharitable thing to say.”
“Well, Mamadidsee Miss Bates run down the street around the time of the murder,” Susan said in a defensive tone.
“Actingverysuspiciously,” Anne added.
Before Emma could respond, Mrs. Ford dismayingly entered the fray.
“I’m afraid Miss Cox is correct,” she said. “I also saw Miss Bates that day—twice, in fact. She passed by on the way to the church just before two. She seemed very distracted.”
“Miss Bates is often distracted,” Emma pointed out.
“True, Mrs. Knightley. But I stepped outside to speak to her. She had ordered yarn to knit some gloves for her mother. But when I called to say it was in, she pretended not to hear me.”
“Perhaps she didn’t actually hear you.”
