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Mr. Clarke shrugged. “Perhaps. However, given the evidence, I can understand why Sharpe and Dr. Hughes reached the conclusions they did.”

Emma frowned. “Sir, only this afternoon you stated that you didnotbelieve there was sufficient evidence to convict Mr. Larkins of anything more than possession of contraband tobacco. Are you now suggesting he is part of the smuggling ring? Or even guilty of murder?”

“I haven’t changed my thinking, ma’am. I have yet to see conclusive evidence that Mr. Larkinsispart of a gang. Nor is it my business to speak to the murder charge, unless that becomes directly relevant to the smuggling charges. Therefore, I wasn’t prepared to make speculative statements for the record. Still, I have no choice but to proceed with a full investigation, and that includes interviewing Mr. Larkins as both a principal witness and a potential suspect.”

Emma leaned forward, holding his gaze. “Sir, I know what the evidence might suggest … does suggest. But Larkinsisinnocent, of both murder and smuggling.”

“Exactly so, Mrs. Knightley,” said Miss Bates. “Mr. Clarke, let me assure you that Mrs. Knightley is always right in these matters. Why, only last summer, she saved us from a terrible fate. I still shudder to think about it!”

Mr. Clarke frowned. “What happened last summer?”

George hastily intervened before the discussion could go downthatrabbit hole. “Nothing that’s germane to this case. I will say, however, that I concur with my wife’s opinion. Despite the evidence, I firmly believe Larkins is innocent, and that there are other forces at work here.”

“Evil forces,” Father proclaimed in dramatic tones.

“Heavens above!” exclaimed Miss Bates, falling back upon the sofa cushions.

Mr. Clarke cast a longing glance toward the door, clearly wishing for an escape. Emma had to choke down the impulse to laugh.

The prevention officer, however, gathered himself. “I realize that Mr. Larkins is a trusted member of the Knightley household. Nevertheless, I’ve known respectable merchants to be heavily involved in these sorts of activities, and so have gentry. I’ve even known of cases where clergymen were directly involved with the gangs.”

Miss Bates looked speechless with horror. Well, almost speechless. “The clergy! Every notion of good conduct revolts at the very idea.”

“Very true, ma’am, but the fact remains that some clergymen have played roles in the trade, from direct involvement to simply turning a blind eye to what goes on under their noses.”

Now that you mention it …

Emma found it all too plausible to imagine that their curate, Mr. Barlowe, was involved in a smuggling scheme. Not as a smuggler himself, of course. The man was scared of his own shadow. But she could, perhaps, see him quietly turning a blind eye so as to be compensated with contraband goods. That might be one explanation for both his excellent tea and his collection of expensive spirits. Most important, it would address his odd behavior these past few weeks whenever the subject of smuggling or Prudence came up.

“I refuse to believe thatourMr. Barlowe would be involved in anything so nefarious,” Miss Bates stoutly replied.

“I defer to your superior local knowledge, ma’am,” said Mr. Clarke. “Still, I wouldn’t be surprised to hear of people in Highbury who are knowingly in receipt of contraband goods at this very moment.”

“Emma,” Father exclaimed, growing agitated. “Tell Mr. Clarke that such a thing cannot possibly be true.”

Instead, Emma and George exchanged a quick glance before her husband rose to his feet.

“Mr. Clarke, thank you for keeping me apprised of your plans. I’ll do everything in my power to assist you.”

“Thank you, sir. It’s always welcome to have the support of the local magistrate and law officers.”

He gave Emma and Miss Bates a courtly bow before quietly departing the room.

Miss Bates fanned herself with her handkerchief. “I hardly know what to think, Mr. Woodhouse. Can there truly be such goings-on in our beloved Highbury? It’s too dreadful to contemplate!”

“Then we shall not do so,” responded Father as he patted her hand. “Although Mr. Clarke seems a respectable man, heisfrom London. Since the city teems with criminals, he must be in the habit of seeing villains lurking behind every bush.”

Emma refrained from pointing out that villains were, in fact, doing some lurking about Highbury.

“Mrs. Otway told me after the inquest that she suspected Mrs. Ford of receiving smuggled wool,” Miss Bates morosely said. “I refuted the very notion at the time, but now I must wonder if she might be correct.”

Father huffed. “Nonsense. Mrs. Ford found me the most excellent pair of fur-lined gloves, just last week. She knows all about the danger of chilled hands. So sensible a woman would never engage in criminal activities.”

Perceiving that her father and Miss Bates could go on in this vein all evening, Emma made a concerted effort to soothe their anxieties. She replenished their teacups and suggested they reread the contents of Isabella’s latest letter. Once the pair was properly diverted, she joined her husband on the settee by the French doors.

“What a gruesome day,” she said.

“One in a long line of gruesome days, I’m afraid. I’ve written to John about securing legal representation for Larkins. At some point, I’ll have to go up to London to meet with whomever he chooses.”