“It could mean there is more than one killer,” Harriet suggested. “A man to break the captain’s neck, and a lady who dropped thevinaigrettede toilettein the passageway.”
“I forgot about it last night,” Elizabeth admitted. “I did ask a few people before dinner, but after the end of the meal, it was the furthest thing from my mind.”
“Ask again today,” Cathy suggested.
Mr. Darcy furrowed his brows. “Do you think the owner would admit that it belongs to them?”
“Perhaps they may betray some reaction, a modicum of recognition,” Elizabeth mused.
Sir Edward flipped through a few pages of notes, nodding as he squinted through his spectacles. “I agree there is some notion in considering those who argue the loudest.”
“And those who say the least,” Mr. Darcy added. “Sidney Parker is often a silent fellow.”
“But what motive would anybody but Mrs. Rushworth and Mr. Crawford have in killing Mr. Rushworth? They have cause for every murder that has happened,” Lady Allen said.
“If the murderer was indeed the person in the passageway, they would have heard that we are compiling evidence. They might have used what they learned about Mrs. Rushworth to divert our investigation away from themselves.”
“A red herring,” Mr. Darcy agreed.
“I was the obvious culprit already. They had little need of a red herring,” Mr. Tilney said with a shake of his head.
“But they heard Mrs. Rushworth telling Lizzy that she knew of our investigation to clear your name,” Cathy told him. “It does make sense that with so many of us refusing to believe it could be you, they sought someone else to blame.”
Elizabeth smiled appreciatively at her sister and Mr. Darcy. The latter returned her warm gaze as he sipped at his coffee.
Sir Edward grumbled and said, “I believe there is one way to imminently find out.”
Cathy looked at him with eager anticipation. “How is that?”
“If the murderer is someone wholly unconnected with Rushworth, who targeted him to shift the blame onto the widowand her lover, then they would surely not risk harming anybody else.”
“But they have no motive to harm anyone else,” Mr. Darcy said. “If there is any further incident, we may have to consider that perhaps Mrs. Rushworth or Mr. Crawford took advantage of the other murders to rid themselves of the obstacle that kept them apart.”
Elizabeth gasped. “Do you think… surely nobody else shall be harmed.”
Emma scoffed. “I have never been less sure of anything!” She began to primly devour a lemon tart, her eyes full of anxiety.
“I cannot think past how it happened at all, that poor, silly man,” Lady Allen fretted.
“Aye,” Sir Edward agreed. “It is fortunate, of course, but damned odd that only Rushworth was poisoned. How was he singled out?”
“Lady Susan was quick to suggest a means of achieving that,” Elizabeth said.
“But if she had been the one to do it, she would not have explained it to us,” Emma said.
“At any rate, I believe her speculation was correct,” Mr. Darcy said. “It seems to me that anyone might have gone into the dining room once the table was set, and tampered with the dishes. I believe the killer applied poison to Rushworth’s plate or cup using a handkerchief. When I was adding logs to the fire, I found this among the embers.”
Mr. Darcy reached into his pocket and then presented them with a small fragment of charred white linen. It was the burnt remnant of an embroidered handkerchief, and there were two red letters on the little scrap.
Elizabeth picked it up and examined it. “VF? Or VE, perhaps? It is singed there, I cannot make it out.”
“VE – Vernon!” Cathy gasped.
Mr. Tilney leaned in for a closer look at their latest clue. “Could it have been WF – Crawford?”
“Whoever this belong to, you think they used the handkerchief to apply poison to Mr. Rushworth’s dishes,” Elizabeth said to Mr. Darcy.
“Precisely.” He gave her a warm smile. “And then they threw the poison handkerchief into the fire.”
