Murder in Court Three by Ian Simpson Page B

expected Baggo to be aware of this. He nodded gravely and hoped di Falco would keep going.
    The younger man paused then took the hint. ‘What about the threats?’ he asked.
    â€˜It’s these damned right-to-lifers,’ she said with sudden vehemence. ‘My husband’s been getting letters. There were two last week and I wanted him to report it then but he didn’t. And there was one yesterday. It was the worst and it had been posted after the murder, so I insisted. You probably know my husband’s tall and dark-haired, like Farquhar Knox. Do you think they meant to murder him and killed Farquhar by mistake?’ Her face crumpled as she held back tears.
    â€˜We don’t know yet,’ di Falco said, ‘but do you have the letters?’
    â€˜My husband took them to Glasgow to show the police there.’
    â€˜When was Knox’s identity revealed publicly?’ Baggo asked di Falco.
    â€˜Mid-day or early afternoon on Saturday, I think, but the internet will have got it earlier.’
    â€˜We were phoned with the news on Saturday during breakfast,’ Mrs Cuthbert said. ‘News travels round the bar like wildfire.’
    â€˜We’ll certainly look into this,’ Baggo said. ‘We’ll take fingerprints from you and your husband for elimination purposes. You can find prints on paper and that would be excellent evidence.’
    â€˜He didn’t open the third letter till he returned home last night. He was all set to laugh the whole thing off. But I’m left here alone and it’s not funny.’ Her voice caught again. After a couple of deep breaths she stared at the floor and spoke slowly at first, increasing in speed and decibels as she warmed to her theme. ‘Bar wives have a reputation of being status-conscious and unfriendly. But we have to keep the show on the road; appear well-off when there’s no money; cover up drunkenness; nurse a sick child when your husband’s every waking hour is spent on his practice; boost confidence after a mauling in court; keep his feet on the ground after a triumph. What is it Kipling said about triumph and disaster? It should be carved on every bar wife’s heart. Oh, and you must be stoical if your family is threatened.’ After that bitter, hysterical outburst, she glared at the officers.
    Taken aback, Baggo murmured, ‘That must be difficult for you.’ In a business-like tone he said, ‘We will look into it, but could I ask you to think back to Friday night?’
    She nodded, calmer after letting out her pent-up resentment.
    â€˜Was there anything that happened during the dinner that might have a bearing on Mr Knox’s murder?’
    She took more deep breaths then shook her head. ‘Kenny sat near him, so that might explain how they got mixed up.’
    â€˜And after dinner what happened?’
    â€˜Farquhar got up. He’d adopted the detached expression he often put on when he was bored. Eloise and I chatted for a bit before they cleared the tables. I don’t remember seeing either her or Farquhar till Kenny and I did a Dashing White Sergeant with Eloise, which was after the archery. Molly Bertram and I spent most of the rest of the evening in the library with Eloise. We all got up to dance a couple of times, I think. I certainly did. I don’t remember if Eloise did, actually. The men, Kenny and Rab Bertram I mean, milled about, mostly near the bar. It became pretty clear that Farquhar had done a bunk and I could tell Eloise was furious, though she didn’t let it show too much. We took her home and Kenny saw her into the house. Of course Farquhar wasn’t there, but we assumed it was just another of his dalliances.’
    â€˜Did he have many of these?’ Baggo asked.
    Her face clouded. ‘He was a rat. I shouldn’t speak ill of the dead, but he was. We all knew about that poor policeman’s tarty wife.’ She clamped her mouth