“As I already mentioned, whoever had been in the vestry had departed, so I did not consider myself to be in any danger.”
The coroner scoffed. “One might suggest you acted rather recklessly, madam.”
Why was the dratted man treating her like an adversary instead of a witness?
“I thought it important to catch a glimpse of whoever had been hiding in the vestry. And I did arm myself with a brass candlestick for protection.”
“That’s the ticket, Mrs. Knightley,” called an admiring voice from the crowd.
Mr. Elton raised his hands in a prayerful attitude. “Such courage in the face of danger . . . a true heroine.”
Emma caught George’s sigh.
Dr. Hughes continued to question her, and they had a bit of a brangle over the discovery of the handkerchief.
“Why did you not think to give it to me as soon as I arrived at the church? You should have done so,” he said.
“Forgive me, sir. I was distracted by the death of Mrs. Elton.”
He blustered a bit. “We will return to that question. What then transpired?”
“I went to return the candlestick to the altar. That’s when I noticed that its mate was out of position.”
“Was there anything unusual about that other candlestick?”
“Yes. It appeared to have blood on it.”
There were gasps from the assemblage. Apparently, that detail was not widely known.
“And did you notice anything else about this apparent blood?”
“It was smeared, as if someone had tried to wipe it clean.”
Dr. Hughes reached down to pluck something from a basket on the floor by the table. He unwrapped the candlestick, bundled in a white cloth. “Is this the candlestick in question?”
Emma nodded. “It appears to be.”
He turned it on its side and brought it closer for her to inspect. “And is this the smear of blood, Mrs. Knightley?”
The blood had now dried almost to black on the sconce, with a small dark smear on the stem below. Seeing it again made her feel queasy, and she had to swallow before she could answer.
“Yes.”
Dr. Hughes showed the candlestick to the jury, walking slowly down the line so they could inspect it. A thrill of horror enveloped the crowd like an invisible mist. Mr. Elton covered his face with a large handkerchief, clearly overcome.
The doctor returned to the front of the room. “Mrs. Knightley, what conclusion did you draw when you saw the blood on the candlestick?”
Emma carefully chose her words. “It seemed likely that it had been used to injure Mrs. Elton.”
“Fatally so,” Dr. Hughes commented.
The man certainly had a penchant for stating the obvious. She didn’t bother responding.
“What did you do after this discovery?” he asked.
“I thought it best to simply wait for you and my husband.”
“A wise course of action, Mrs. Knightley.”
