Death at the Beggar's Opera (6 page)

‘But surely Lord Delaney …’

‘I don’t see that my husband has anything to do with the matter. I thought I was here to answer questions about the events of tonight.’

‘And so you are,’ John replied, putting on his contrite face. ‘You must forgive me. I have this terrible tendency to wander off the point. So let us get down to business. Tell me, what was your relationship with the dead man? You were friends, I presume?’

‘The dead …? Oh, you mean poor Jasper.’ For the first time Mrs Delaney’s lips quivered and her cheeks bleached of colour, showing how very pale she was beneath the highly coloured paint she wore for the stage. ‘Well, of course, we had acted together many, many times. We were true working colleagues.’

‘And nothing more?’

She blazed with sudden anger. ‘I’m afraid I don’t understand you.’

‘Mrs Delaney, forgive me,’ John said firmly. ‘I have already heard that Mr Harcross was a man for the ladies, and you, if you will allow me to say so, are a very beautiful woman. Did he flirt with you?’

‘I am married, Sir.’

‘Yes, but surely that marriage was only recent. What was your relationship with him before you wed?’

The actress’s cheeks went from snow to fire. ‘As you said yourself, we were friends.’

‘And that is all?’

This time there was a very long pause and John found himself being regarded by a pair of vivacious eyes, bright as bluebells but presently dark with thought.

Eventually Mrs Delaney said, ‘Are you entitled to ask that?’:

‘In as much as I am officially acting for Mr Fielding, yes.’

‘Well, then, here’s the truth, before you hear some distorted version of it from someone who wishes me ill. Jasper Harcross and I had been sweethearts, that was until I met Lord Delaney. Then I ended the affair. But you are right about his weakness for women. He could not resist them, particularly those who threw themselves at him headlong.’

‘And were there many like that?’

‘Oh yes,’ she said bitterly. ‘Many.’

‘Fellow actresses?’

‘Of course.’

‘Surely his wife could not have approved of such behaviour?’

There was a stunned silence followed by a rapid intake of breath, then Mrs Delaney controlled herself. ‘I think your information is incorrect, Sir. Jasper Harcross was not a married man.’

‘I’m afraid he was,’ John answered sombrely. ‘Mr Fielding was given that information by Mr Garrick himself. Apparently the lady was kept hidden away in Kensington but, for all that, exists.’

Before his eyes, the actress cracked. ‘The bastard!’ she screamed. ‘The monstrous bastard! If that is the case he deserved to die! How could he have done that to me?’ And she melted into a rainstorm of hysterical tears.

With enormous difficulty John rose from his chair, breathing in in order to move. Squeezing his way from behind the table, he put his arm round Mrs Delaney’s shoulders, raising his bottle of smelling salts to her nose.

‘Steady now! Breathe deeply. Whatever he did is not worth upsetting yourself about to this extent,’ he said gently.

Once again, the actress fought for restraint and found it somewhere in the depths of her being. Wiping away tears with the back of her hand, she stood up, her face ravaged and streaked.

‘Can I go now?’

‘I’m afraid there are still one or two questions I have to ask – but they can wait. I think you should return home and rest. Do you have a carriage?’

‘My husband’s coach has been here for the last hour.’

‘Then with your permission I will call on you within the next day or two so that we can go over the last few points.’

‘Come in the afternoon when my husband is out. I do not want him to be drawn into this tragic business.’

‘I quite understand. I shall visit you shortly, Lady Delaney.’

‘I prefer to be called Mrs when I am in the theatre.’ She gave the Apothecary a sudden, sad smile which made her look extremely vulnerable, then headed for the door. ‘Good night to you, gentlemen.’

John bowed courteously, Samuel attempting to do likewise in the small area at his disposal. As soon as the actress was out of earshot, however, the two friends turned to one another.

‘Is it possible that Jasper Harcross kept the fact of his marriage a secret from all of them?’

‘It would certainly appear so.’

‘And David Garrick said nothing about it?’

‘Why should he? He is the great actor-manager, beyond gossiping with his company of players.’

‘None the less,’ said Samuel, ‘it strikes me as odd.’

‘No doubt we will learn more as the evening proceeds. By the way, did you notice anything missing from Mrs Delaney’s costume?’

‘The red bow on her left cuff had gone.’

‘Yes, though I could have sworn it was there during tonight’s performance.’ The Apothecary frowned as his pictorial memory came into play. ‘Yes, it was, for sure.’

‘Then it doesn’t count, does it?’

‘Everything …’ But John got no further as there was a knock on the door and Joe Jago put his head through the opening.

‘Ready for the next one, Mr Rawlings?’

‘Who is it?’

‘Jack Masters, who played Lockit.’

‘Please send him through.’

In a swirl of pipe smoke, the granite-faced actor took his place on the other side of the table and the interview started.

A pattern began to emerge, the basis of which had come from Mrs Delaney. Jack Masters, craggy and imperturbable individual though he might be, appeared equally surprised that his erstwhile friend had been married, though once he had got used to the idea it certainly seemed to strike him as amusing.

‘What a cool customer,’ he said, slapping his thigh. ‘There he was, with half the women in London in love with him, yet secretly having a wife all along.’

One of John’s mobile brows rose. ‘Ah, but look where that cool customer ended. Obviously the game that he played was a highly dangerous one.’

Jack nodded, suddenly serious. ‘You’re right of course. There must have been several who would like to have seen him dead.’

‘Do you include men amongst that number?’

‘Jealous husbands, do you mean?’

‘That, or lovers.’

Jack stroked his chin. ‘Well, it’s known that Sarah Delaney, Seaton as she used to be, was close to Jasper at one time.’

‘Are you saying that Lord Delaney had a motive for murdering him?’

The ragged face became uneasy. ‘I’m not one for common gossip, Mr Rawlings.’

The Apothecary nodded. ‘I respect that. So can you answer me something else, Mr Masters?’

‘That depends.’

‘It is rather important, I fear. As you are no doubt aware by now, the platform on which Mr Harcross stood had been sawn through so that the very next person to walk on it would fall. As no one else used that section of the planking but the victim, I think we are safe in presuming the trap was set for him.’

‘Yes? Well?’

‘Dick has assured us that the device worked perfectly at dress rehearsal. Therefore, it seems obvious that the gallows were tampered with after that time. Because of this I must know, Sir, where you were last night.’

Jack Masters looked decidedly ill at ease. ‘I think that’s my affair, don’t you?’

John sighed. ‘As you wish. In the end you will have to answer, one way or t’other.’ His face changed. ‘My dear Sir, I have been asked by Mr Fielding to help him out tonight, the reason being that I assisted him, quite successfully, on another occasion. Believe me, I do not enjoy prying into the lives of others, their business is their own. But surely we all have a common interest in finding the murderer of Jasper Harcross.’

The actor nodded, somewhat reluctantly. ‘You’re right, of course. Well, the truth is that I was visiting a lady.’

‘And she will verify this?’

‘I would rather you did not approach her.’

John sighed once more. ‘Sir, I will most certainly not do so. That remains with Mr Fielding. He is in overall charge of us all.’

‘Oh dear!’ said Samuel spontaneously, obviously perturbed by Jack Masters’s attitude, and both friends were relieved to hear Joe Jago tap on the door once more.

‘Mr Rawlings, Mr Fielding presents his compliments and asks that you meet him on the stage. It seems that there has been a new development in this matter.’

John stood up, extremely glad to remove himself from the stuffy confines of the little room.

‘Tell him that I will attend him in just a few moments.’

The actor got to his feet. ‘Are you finished with me?’

‘Only one word more,’ answered John. ‘Whatever further information Mr Fielding might ask you to give him will be treated in the utmost confidence, I can assure you of that.’

Masters gave him a penetrating glance. ‘You think a great deal of that man, don’t you?’

‘Yes. He is as honest and true an individual as I have ever come across.’

Jack drew on his pipe. ‘That’s as well with all the dark secrets this killing is going to lay bare.’ And with those words he withdrew, leaving a cloud of blue smoke behind him.

A strange scene awaited John on the stage. The Blind Beak and Joe Jago were sitting on two chests, specially brought in for that purpose. Behind them stood one of Mr Fielding’s Fellows, a sketch pad in his hand and an important look on his face. At the back of the stage, stretched out fast asleep, was Will the theatre boy, the wooden gallows that he was meant to have been guarding, quite unattended. All three of the adults had a conspiratorial air about them and John guessed at once that something had been discovered.

‘Ah, Mr Rawlings,’ said the Blind Beak, hearing John approach and obviously recognising his tread. ‘I’m glad you’re here. Would you mind entering the wooden contraption with my Brave Fellow? There’s something he would like you to see.’

‘What’s going on?’ asked the Apothecary, as he stepped once more into the claustrophobic confines of the box in which Jasper Harcross had met his death.

‘Mr Fielding asked me to sketch the cuts made by the saw so that we could have a record of them. And it was while I was doing so that I noticed this.’

And he produced from his pocket a scarlet bow which he handed to John with a flourish.

‘Um, from Sarah Delaney’s costume, I imagine. Where was this?’

‘Snagged on a piece of wood lower down, hardly visible in fact.’

‘Strange that I did not notice it.’

‘It could easily have been missed in the hurly burly.’

‘There was certainly a great deal going on,’ answered John, and had a cruelly vivid recollection of Jasper Harcross’s dangling legs in their high leather boots, and how he had held them tightly to his chest.

‘So what do you think, Sir?’ the Runner went on.

‘A most interesting find.’

But he would be drawn no further and said nothing more until the Blind Beak asked him the same question. Then John gave his honest opinion.

‘I don’t quite see how, Sir, but I believe that bow has been put there recently in order to incriminate Mrs Delaney.’

The black bandage hiding John Fielding’s blind eyes turned sharply in the Apothecary’s direction. ‘And why do you say this?’

‘For two different reasons. One is that I didn’t see the bow when I was inside the gallows, though I admit that is easily explicable. The other is that Mrs Delaney’s costume was intact during tonight’s performance, yet the bow was missing when I questioned her.’

‘You’re sure of this?’

‘Absolutely positive.’

‘Then that means it was planted after the murder.’

John motioned towards the sleeping child. ‘How long has he been like that?’

‘At least half an hour. And during that time most of the actors were either being questioned or were in their dressing rooms. There must have been several periods when the stage was completely deserted, leaving anyone with a strong nerve free to tamper with the gallows.’

‘Then we have a murderer who is trying to implicate another.’

‘It would indeed seem so, yes.’ The Blind Beak stood up, his commanding height dominating the group around him. ‘Mr Rawlings, I suggest that we bring tonight’s questioning to a close. I shall see the rest of the players in the morning while you go to visit Mr Harcross’s widow. Then perhaps we could meet at Bow Street in the evening in order to compare notes, if you and Sir Gabriel would care to dine.’ Mr Fielding cleared his throat. ‘My young friend, I do realise that I am imposing on you by asking you to be away from your shop, the source of your livelihood. It weighs heavily upon my conscience.’

John nodded. ‘It does create certain difficulties, I must admit. Perhaps we could come to a compromise, whereby I work for the Public Office on alternate days, or something of that sort.’

‘I think that might well be the answer,’ said the Blind Beak. He turned to his clerk. ‘And now, Jago, if you would tell the actors that we are done with them for the night and to be back here in costume at ten o’clock.’ He called out to Dick, who had just reappeared on stage and whose footsteps he clearly recalled. ‘Is Mr Garrick still in the theatre?’

‘No, Sir, he’s gone home. But the orchestra and stagehands want to know what to do. They have stayed on.’

‘I’ll see them in the morning as well. Now what about that boy? Where does he live?’

Dick stared at the Blind Beak in obvious surprise. ‘Why here, Mr Fielding. He’s the theatre boy, a foundling, he lives on the premises.’

‘Does he sleep here?’ asked John, with quickened interest.

‘Yes.’

‘Then he will be well worth talking to.’

The Blind Beak interrupted. ‘Joe, put that on your list of things for Mr Rawlings to do. The child will be far less frightened of him than he will of me.’

‘Very good, Sir. Then I’ll go and get those rum cove actors shifted.’

‘And I’ll arrange for one of the Runners to stay here overnight,’ the Magistrate added in an undertone. ‘If one attempt has been made to distort vital evidence, who knows what might happen next.’

The empty theatre began to echo with the noise of footsteps descending the stairs leading from the dressing rooms, and then came the sound of people bidding each other farewell. Voices were hushed out of respect for the newly dead, and the occasional sob added its mournful note to the palpable air of gloom. Mr Fielding, sombre in a dark cloak, left for the stage door, guided by Joe Jago, while John watched the last of the players make their way out. It was only then that he heard his name called and spun round to see that Coralie Clive still prowled in the shadows. Motioning Samuel to go ahead of him and call a hackney, John went up to her.