Death at the Beggar's Opera (32 page)

Coming in through the stage door, following the Magistrate who was being led by Joe Jago, John wondered if it could really have been only a few days before that they were similarly gathered together to hear the announcement that Coralie Clive had gone missing. It seemed more like months, he thought. Without wanting to, he looked round at the places where Polly and Dick had stood and was almost shocked not to see them there.

As if they were going to watch a play, the spectators had arrived early, and there was a buzz of expectancy in the air. Staring about him to find out who was present, John’s eyes alighted first on the Clive sisters, sitting together in a box, Coralie wearing a scarf around her throat to hide the ugly bruising caused by the pressure of Dick’s fingers. Also there, very pale and subdued and looking a great deal thinner, was Clarice Martin, who sat beside her husband in one of the higher boxes, her face shaded by a large dark hat. Seated side by side on the gilt chairs were Amelia and Adam Verity, he with one leg negligently crossed over the other, she wearing the most stunning headgear in the place. Not to be outdone, the
ménage-à-trois
, Mrs Vine, Mr Bowdler and Mr Masters, were also dressed exceptionally well, and it briefly occurred to John that most of the theatricals had regarded this meeting as a place at which to be seen as well as to see.

Notably absent from the throng were Sarah Delaney and her husband, he having sent a personal messenger to say that he could not possibly expect his pregnant wife to set foot in their home until all signs of the recent violence had been cleared away. Another face that should have been amongst the crowd, yet no one with any humanity could have expected it to be, was that of Mrs Harcross, that inadvertent bird of ill omen, whose neglect of her children had been the cause of so much suffering. However, one late comer, Samuel, rushed in looking rather red in the face and took a seat beside his friend.

‘Sorry to be late,’ he panted. ‘What a morning! I had intended to close the shop but my father insisted that I get a boy in.’ He looked important. ‘Now that I have been made Free I am considering getting an apprentice.’

John slanted his brows. ‘How very nice for you.’

Samuel looked repentant. ‘I’m sorry. I had no desire to be tactless.’

‘Be quiet,’ his friend hissed in reply. ‘Mr Fielding is about to speak.’

And indeed the powerful figure of the Magistrate had risen from his chair while the bandaged sightless eyes appeared to scan the company. Beside him, David Garrick assumed an air of deep gloom and had the occasion not been one of such profound tragedy, John would have laughed.

‘Mr Garrick, ladies and gentlemen of the Drury Lane company,’ Mr Fielding began. ‘The pitiful story which I am about to tell you began and ended in a theatre and thus it is fitting that we are gathered here today in order that I may recount it. As ever, my well trusted friend Mr Rawlings will fill in those parts of the tale that are relevant to him. I shall outline the rest.’ He paused momentarily, then went on.

‘I think it was a shock to many present to discover at the time of Jasper Harcross’s murder that he was a married man. I am not repeating cheap tittle-tattle but stating a fact when I tell you that he loved the ladies well. Indeed in many instances in this strange account you will see that art mirrored life, and no more so than in the similarity between Captain Macheath and Jasper Harcross. However, despite his amours, it is now known that Jasper had contracted a marriage many years before, when he was struggling to make his way in the theatre, and with no less a personage than the great Mrs Egleton, the actress who created the part of Lucy Lockit in the original production of
The Beggar’s Opera
.’

There was a loud murmur of surprise from several people present and somebody coughed nervously. The Magistrate waited for the hubbub to die down, then continued.

‘At the time of the marriage Mrs Egleton was a beautiful widow in her thirties, probably at the height of her career. However, this same career had not been achieved without a certain amount of sacrifice. By her first husband the actress had borne two children, a boy and a girl, to whom their father, being considerably older than their mother, devoted himself. However, on his death she put them out to a foster mother, a Mrs Camber of Chelsea, and in that sowed the seeds of destruction. What it was about these particular children we shall never know, but let me say, very simply, that they could not have been of a robust mental disposition. In other words, whereas some young people would have made the best of this twist of fate, these two appear to have turned in on themselves and to one another for their salvation.

‘It now appears that after some years, when she had remarried, Mrs Egleton offered them a ray of hope and invited them to come home once more. To actors like yourselves, used to envisaging the emotions of others, it cannot be difficult to picture their excitement and joy. But this was to be dashed, for Jasper Harcross refused to have then under the same roof, and once again these children were cast aside. It must have been at this time that a loathing for the man, so violent that it could only have come from very tortured beings, was born. It was this loathing that brought about the two violent deaths in this theatre. You may be wondering at this point why William Swithin should have been a victim of their hatred and I will ask Mr Rawlings to explain that to you.’

Acutely aware that Mrs Martin was sitting in a stage box only a few yards away from him, John got to his feet.

‘The reason why the boy should also have been killed puzzled me enormously. At first I thought it might be because he knew something that the killer did not want him to repeat, and indeed that may have been partly true. Sleeping in the theatre as he did, the poor child might well have seen the person who sawed through the planking of the mobile and yet have been reluctant to say who it was. In fact he came to my shop to tell me something but was thwarted in the attempt. Because of that I could not let the matter rest. I already knew that someone from Drury Lane was acting as patron to a poor orphan boy, but at that stage had made no connection. However, a visit to the Foundling Hospital revealed some new evidence. I feel I should spare the feelings of certain people present and simply say that William Swithin was the son of persons connected with this theatre.’

Once again there was a gasp of amazement which grew to a crescendo as Mrs Martin stood up in her box. Her face may have been shadowed by her sweeping hat but her voice was clear for all that.

‘Friends – I hope I may still call you that – I was the mother of William Swithin and Jasper Harcross was his father. My dear husband who, since my recent illness, I have grown to love and respect more than any other being upon this earth, wanted me to keep the baby, knowing full well that it was not his. It was I, selfish, shallow creature that I was, who insisted that the boy be left at the gates of the Foundling Hospital. James took him there, even though it must have broken his heart to act thus, but dropped an embroidered initialled handkerchief as he did so. In this way Mr Fielding and Mr Rawlings arrived at the truth about the boy’s parentage.’

There was a stunned silence, as if nobody could believe what they had just heard. Mrs Martin sat down again, turning her face away behind its concealing cover, and John noticed that James had put his arm around her shoulders in a comforting gesture. Then the voice of Adam Verity broke the silence, ‘I admire you for saying that,’ he called, and another person cried, ‘Hear, hear.’

‘Pray continue, Mr Rawlings,’ said the Blind Beak as soon as silence was restored.

‘I was obviously not the only one to discover the truth about Will. The Egletons must have found out too, and in their fevered brains their quest became to erase Jasper and his progeny as if they never had been. Thus they concluded that the theatre boy must be done away with. You know the rest. He was hanged by the neck until he suffocated on the same gallows on which his father had perished.’

Now there was the silence of pure horror as that imaginative collection of people considered the wretched child’s fate. During this pause, John sat down again. Responding to the lightest tap on his arm from Joe Jago, Mr Fielding took up the tale once more.

‘It was Mr Rawlings who first began to query the whereabouts of Mrs Egleton’s two children. When he had asked her about them she had told him they had vanished when the boy had been sixteen, the girl ten. Mr Rawlings added to this the fact that a mysterious young woman, heavily veiled, warned Coralie Clive to break her association with Jasper Harcross. Then saw another, answering the same description, throw a witchcraft symbol into Jasper’s grave. This made him wonder whether someone from Mrs Harcross’s past hated her enough to wish her dead within the year.’

Coralie’s voice interrupted the proceedings. ‘May I ask a question please?’

‘Certainly.’

‘Why was I warned off? Why did one of the killers come to see me? Surely I could just have been left to play my dangerous game and take the consequences?’

Mr Fielding paused. ‘We shall probably never know the answer to that but I wish to think that one or other of the pair – indeed perhaps even both – liked you well enough to try and turn you away from Jasper Harcross.’

‘Do you mean that they did not want me to conceive a child by him and thus put myself in mortal danger at their hands? In other words they had no wish for me to die but would have murdered me if I was carrying his baby?’ Coralie asked boldly, though her lips trembled with the strain of actually saying the words.

‘Yes, that is just what I do mean. Now, let us leave the matter. After the two appearances of this veiled woman, Mr Rawlings concluded Mrs Harcross’s missing daughter might fit that bill very well. I think it was at this stage we both realised something very frightening was afoot. Mr Rawlings, would you care to continue?’

John stood up again. ‘It was something my father said to me that made me decide to follow their trail. He used words to the effect to watch out for the young Egletons. So I made up my mind to locate them. Then slowly I became convinced that they had been under my nose all along, right here in Drury Lane. My suspicions fell on various people, none of whom seemed quite right. But I did not know for certain who the boy was until I finally managed to visit Mrs Camber in Chelsea. There I had a conversation with her daughter, who could tell me little except how close the two children had been. And then I saw a sampler stitched by Mrs Camber when she was a young girl. It was signed with the name Emma Weatherby. At that moment I realised that when George Egleton, whom I have subsequently learned was baptised George Richard, absconded from his apprenticeship and took his sister with him, he adopted the first name that came into his head, the one that he had seen on the wall for so many years of his childhood. However, this still left me with the mystery of the identity of the missing girl.’

Mr Fielding spoke once more. ‘While Mr Rawlings sought the Egletons, I became convinced that the killer would strike again and felt certain the intended victim was Sarah Delaney. An effort had been made to incriminate her by dropping Lucy Lockit’s bow at the scene of the first killing. Then a glove appeared at the second. But in that the murderers made their first mistake. The glove belonged to Coralie Clive, though they obviously did not think so. And Miss Clive’s whereabouts at the time of Will’s murder could be fully accounted for. Thus to lead them into a trap – though please remember that at this time we were not certain that there were two of them – we announced that Miss Clive had vanished but was wanted for questioning in connection with Will Swithin’s murder. Lord Delaney cooperated fully and removed Sarah from harm’s way and Miss Coralie, with great bravery and courage, took her place.’

Simultaneously, both Jack Masters and Tom Bowdler called out, ‘Bravo,’ and ‘Well done,’ smiling broadly in the direction of Coralie’s box. At this Melanie Vine let out an audible clucking sound and John, staring at her, suddenly realised that the older actress was jealous of the high esteem in which both her lovers held the younger. At last understanding her look of triumph on hearing that Coralie was suspected of murder and had disappeared from the scene, he grinned to himself.

There was a long pause, then Adam Verity asked, ‘But what made you suspect Polly Rose?’

Mr Fielding’s face became unreadable. ‘I think Mr Rawlings can tell us that.’

John looked into the middle distance, afraid that his eyes might reveal the truth. ‘I regret that I didn’t suspect her, Adam. Not until the very night she and her brother came to kill who they believed to be Sarah Delaney. I knew Polly, of course. Had interviewed her about the murders. But I simply couldn’t believe that …’ His voice trailed away and there was a slightly uncomfortable silence.

Help came from an unexpected source as Coralie spoke.

‘Dick broke into the house by climbing a tree close to the wall, then smashing the glass of my bedroom window. At first he thought I was Sarah but when he recognised me knew that I would be able to identify him so therefore had to die. But I do not hate him for attacking me. Dick Weatherby will always be the stage manager to me. As far as I am concerned George Egleton was the evil part of him, and that is how I intend to think of the situation.’

Her sister, Kitty, applauded and remarked, ‘Well said!’ and there were murmurs of agreement.

Mr Fielding rose to his feet. ‘And that I believe is a fitting epitaph for this tragic pair, as doomed as Romeo and Juliet. Though the murder of a child is beyond forgiveness, let us remember them simply as Dick and Polly, so helpful about this theatre. It was their other sad, neglected lives which finally led them to commit so atrocious and terrible a crime.’

‘It is Mrs Harcross I blame,’ said Jack Masters, lighting his pipe.

John shook his head. ‘No, Sir, she is as pathetic as her offspring. A silly feckless woman, though for all that talented and witty, retribution came to her when she married Jasper. She loved him to distraction and he gave her a life of misery. But finally, after I had set her wondering about them, she went to see Mrs Camber to find out about her children, and presumably followed the same path as I. She must have seen the sampler, recognised the name as that of the stage manager, and come in search of the missing pair. For one bitter night I saw her in Seven Dials, where she must have heard they lived, frozen with cold and obviously near to tears.’