Death at the Beggar's Opera

by Deryn Lake

  And in this pleasant manner John spent another half hour in Miss Verity’s presence before a glance at his watch told him it was time to go home.

  Even though prepared in haste, Sir Gabriel Kent’s supper party proved a great success if somewhat unconventional in fashion. Because of the extreme confidentiality of the subject under discussion, the servants were given the evening to themselves once the main course had been served. Thus, the host and his son waited on table, a task that both of them rather enjoyed.

  Also dispensed with was the custom of the ladies retiring while the gentlemen enjoyed their port. As such a vital member of the party, her husband’s eyes as it were, Elizabeth Fielding was accompanied to the library by all the rest of the group and took part in the conversation, displaying a lively wit.

  John spoke first, telling the Magistrate all that had happened in Kensington, even drawing the puppet from his pocket and passing it round. Mrs Fielding recoiled from it with a look of horror.

  ‘What a gruesome thing. Whoever would want to frighten Mrs Harcross like that? The killer is obviously unhinged.’

  ‘Tormented would be a better word, I think,’ her husband replied calmly. ‘Taken up with wreaking revenge on Jasper Harcross and all his kin – or so it would appear.’

  ‘I believe there might well be two murderers,’ John put in. ‘A woman crossed in love and a madman.’

  ‘The missing Egleton children?’ asked Sir Gabriel.

  ‘That is one possibility, certainly,’ answered the Blind Beak. ‘Though the thought could be leading us down the wrong path. However, this strange woman seen in the church is certainly the strongest clue we have so far. You did not recognise her at all, Mr Rawlings?’

  ‘Unfortunately, no. But there’s something else. Do you remember that Coralie was visited by a veiled woman announcing herself as Mrs Harcross? Well, it occurs to me that if it was not Mrs Harcross, though I am still in two minds about that, it might well have been the woman at the funeral today.’

  Mr Fielding looked stern. ‘Whether there be one or two killers, crazed or sane, the time has come to flush him or her or them out. I have devised a plan which I have already discussed with your son, Sir Gabriel. If I can get it to work – and it calls for the co-operation of several people, all of whom are somewhat temperamental – it should give the killer a sense of false security, so much so that he may feel confident to strike again. But this time, mark my words, we will be prepared for him.’

  ‘What is this scheme?’

  ‘You are aware that a glove found in the room in which Will was murdered belonged to Miss Coralie?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘And you are equally aware that that was the murderer’s first blunder. Little did he know that Miss Clive’s movements could be accounted for entirely that evening.’

  John interrupted. ‘Excuse me, Sir, but I must just say this. Miss Polly Rose, the seamstress, thought the glove belonged to Mrs Delaney, would have sworn to it in fact. If she could be deceived so could someone else. I believe that it is Sarah they are trying to incriminate.’

  ‘But were she to be accused of murder she could plead her belly,’ Elizabeth put in. ‘That means transportation once the child is born.’

  ‘A fair way of getting rid of her none the less,’ said Sir Gabriel grimly.

  ‘Be that as it may,’ answered the Magistrate, taking charge of the conversation once more, ‘we cannot let this state of affairs go on. Therefore, I am going to ask Lady Delaney and her doting husband to leave London for their country seat. Then I intend somehow to persuade Miss Coralie to fake a disappearance but actually go and live in Sarah’s house, in other words to take her place.’

  Sir Gabriel looked blank. ‘But why?’

  ‘So that, with Coralie gone, suspected of murder, the killer will strike at Lady Delaney. That is if our theory of a vendetta against Jasper and his progeny is correct.’

  ‘Wouldn’t that put Miss Clive in the most terrible danger?’

  ‘No, because all the servants in the house will be replaced by my men. Furthermore, I shall ask Mr Rawlings to move in with her to make doubly sure that all is well.’

  The Apothecary felt sweat break out on his brow at the very thought. ‘She’ll never consent,’ he said rapidly. ‘It would be like tying her up as a sacrificial goat.’

  ‘I agree with that,’ said Elizabeth firmly. ‘No woman should be subjected to such peril. Besides, what if either of the two ladies is the killer? After all, your idea of revenge perpetrated by a jilted mistress could still be the correct one.’

  ‘That is a chance I will have to take, though only if she is working with somebody else could Miss Coralie be guilty. The same applies to Lady Delaney, I believe, much slowed down by her increasing size and obviously in no state to commit a violent crime,’ Mr Fielding said unyieldingly. He cleared his throat, indicating that the subject was closed. ‘And now, let us hear the rest of today’s news. What was your impression of Mrs Harcross, Sir Gabriel?’

  ‘I liked her enormously …’

  ‘That was obvious!’ muttered John.

  His father looked at him severely. ‘… and feel it unlikely that she is a criminal. In fact I believe that the very fact she has been given a witchcraft symbol proves her innocence.’

  ‘My dear father,’ John said with a sigh, ‘please remember that Mrs Harcross was the finest actress of her day. The stricken widow, the terrified woman, could all be part of some calculated act to hide the fact that she is guilty of murder.’

  ‘But you yourself warned her that she might be in peril.’

  ‘Indeed I did – and so she might be. But I am not as convinced by her as you are.’

  ‘For all that,’ Sir Gabriel replied coolly, ‘it is my intention to move Mrs Harcross to some safe place, where I can also keep my eye on her.’

  ‘Gracious heavens!’ exclaimed Elizabeth. ‘Will anyone be left in their own home?’

  ‘No one who I think could be endangered by being there,’ her husband answered seriously. He turned to John. ‘What did you make of the two young ladies I asked you to see?’

  ‘They were both charming in their very different ways. Miss Rose is a tense little thing, obviously overburdened with work. Her evidence was not very useful except for the fact that she detested Jasper Harcross and admitted it. And, as I’ve already informed you, she believed the glove to be Sarah’s.’

  ‘And she has seen and heard nothing of interest?’

  ‘Not that she told me.’

  ‘And Miss Verity?’

  ‘She admitted that she was fostered out in Chelsea, as were the Egleton children.’

  ‘Could she and Adam be one and the same?’

  ‘They certainly could.’

  ‘There is absolutely no proof that Mrs Harcross’s children had anything to do with these crimes, you know.’

  ‘Indeed there isn’t,’ answered John. ‘But, never the less, we must consider all possibilities.’

  Mr Fielding rose from his chair and loomed magnificently. ‘Whoever it is, there is a dangerous killer at large. Tomorrow I shall go and see Coralie Clive and attempt to persuade her to accept my plan.’

  ‘And I shall visit Jews Row, Chelsea,’ the Apothecary answered.

  ‘Are you not going to your shop, my friend?’

  ‘No, I will ask my deputy to do that. If you have no objection, Sir, there is something I would like to check on.’

  ‘When I asked you to help me,’ the Magistrate answered, ‘I expected you to act as a free agent.’ He bowed to Sir Gabriel. ‘Good night to you, Sir. An excellent repast, for which I thank you.’

  And so saying, his wife led him from the room, leaving both John and his father with the strong impression that even the famous Blind Beak was both baffled and disturbed by these apparently inexplicable theatrical murders.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Much to John’s disappointment his plan to visit Chelsea, where he had hoped to find out more about the children of Mrs Har
cross’s first marriage, was brought to an abrupt halt. Shortly before breakfast a messenger arrived with a note from the Master of Ned Holby, the apprentice in the last year of his studies who ran John’s shop for him when he was about Mr Fielding’s business. It said, very simply, that Ned had taken to his bed with a quinsy, and sorry though they were to incommode Mr Rawlings it was a matter beyond their control. They hoped he understood and so on. Reading the note as he finished getting dressed, the Apothecary toyed with the idea of not opening the premises in Shug Lane that day, then decided that it would be extremely bad for business if he did not. And, as is often the way of things, having made that disagreeable choice he was pleased he did so.

  First to patronise him, wearing a beaming smile and looking as full of vitality as was possible for a man of his age, came Lord Delaney, bearing another long list.

  ‘My dear young friend, I simply cannot tell you how vigorous your various lotions and potions have made me feel. As for Sarah, she is blooming with health. As you can imagine, though, recent events have upset her and she has decided to retire from the theatre immediately.’

  ‘She knows about William Swithin?’

  ‘Alas, yes. News travels quickly. Melanie Vine called with one of her gentlemen friends and told her everything. They all cried for quite a long while, saying that they had always been fond of the child.’ Lord Delaney looked serious. ‘Who is doing these terrible things, Mr Rawlings? Is it a person deranged?’

  ‘In a way, yes.’ Remembering Mr Fielding’s plan, John continued, ‘The most common view is that the crimes are being committed by someone who has a grudge against Jasper Harcross which, as far as I can see, amounts to about ninety per cent of the population. In fact the Beak is advising everyone who was connected with the man to leave London, so soon the city will be completely empty!’

  Lord Delaney did not smile. “Zounds, then it is serious indeed. What a relief that Sarah was no more than a working companion to him, so that we can safely stay,’ he said, mopping his brow.

  Cursing himself for his blunder, John attempted to retrieve the situation. ‘None the less, it might be wiser to remove Lady Delaney to your country seat. For all we know, this killer might be attacking people who so much as spoke to the dead man.’

  Lord Delaney paled. ‘Do you really think so?’

  The Apothecary told the truth. ‘I don’t know what to think, my Lord. Even Mr Fielding admits that he is baffled, there are so many possibilities. All I know is that if I had been even vaguely friendly with the victim I would remove myself as quickly as possible.’

  The older man fingered his chin anxiously. ‘Can you dine with us soon, my friend? Perhaps tomorrow or the next day, no later. Just send a note round when you would like to come. I know that Sarah respects your judgement and will listen to what you say.’

  ‘Does she not like your country place, then?’

  ‘Not in the winter. She says it’s too damnably cold.’

  ‘Better that than cold in the grave,’ John said thoughtlessly, then wished he had guarded his tongue as Lord Delaney shot him a stricken and wretched glance. ‘Don’t worry, Sir,’ the Apothecary continued, realising that his cheery tone was falling flat in the frightened silence. ‘I will come tomorrow, and between us we can surely persuade Lady Delaney to leave town until this terrible business is over.’

  ‘I think I’ll return to her straight away,’ answered his Lordship. ‘Can you make this list up and bring it with you?’

  ‘Certainly. Now, my Lord, would you like a quick tonic? Something to restore your spirits?’

  The old man nodded feebly, and feeling extremely ashamed of himself for being so tactless, John put a good measure of brandy into the reviving drink.

  It was obviously going to be one of those extraordinary mornings, for no sooner had John waved farewell to his elderly visitor than a sedan chair put down outside his shop. Half expecting it to be Coralie, for the simple reason that that was the method of transport she had used when the actress had visited him before, the Apothecary felt a momentary thrill of disappointment when the Comtesse de Vignolle’s buckled and brocaded shoe set itself on the cobbles. But this feeling passed instantly and he hurried into the street to help his friend inside.

  Today, Serafina looked particularly lovely, her smile captivating, her eyes brimming with gaiety, her elegant racehorse figure showing her clothes to advantage. And yet, John thought, in surveying her, there was something different about her. He let his eyes drop rapidly to her abdomen and there, sure enough, was the first sign of waxing. Certain that he was right, the Apothecary kissed her hand. The woman he had once adored was with child.

  ‘My dear,’ she said, sweeping into his shop and embracing him. ‘How is everything? Are you any nearer reaching a solution?’

  It was perfectly obvious that, being outside the theatrical circle, she had not heard about Will Swithin and John hesitated whether to tell her. She was clearly so happy, so delighted with the miracle of her child, that to spoil her joy would have been cruelty itself. And yet she was such a highly respected and fascinating woman that her views were listened to, particularly by haughty young ladies like Coralie Clive. John decided to compromise.

  ‘Unfortunately, Comtesse, there was another murder on the very night that I supped with you last. A child called Will Swithin, the theatre boy, was done to death. It was very shocking and very terrible but good may yet come out of it. Mr Fielding has formulated some masterly plan by which he can draw the murderer into the open. You might be able to help.’

  ‘Me?’ echoed Serafina, and listened intently as John explained everything to her. ‘But surely,’ she said when he had finished, ‘Coralie will not refuse to do this for, if so, I shall be mightily disappointed in her. Why, I would give my eye teeth to help thwart such a monster.’

  John smiled his irregular smile. ‘Comtesse, I rather imagine your days of being the most mysterious and talked-about woman in London are drawing to a close. I fear you will not be able to play Coralie’s part.’ And he winked at her.

  She stared at him suspiciously. ‘Why, you little devil…How did you know?’

  He assumed pomposity. ‘Madam, I am an apothecary and trained to observe the human physique in all its many …’

  But he got no further. Serafina fell upon him, laughing joyfully, and tickling him until he admitted defeat. Just for a moment, though, when she was close, John held her in his arms and looked into her face. ‘I was in love with you once,’ he said. ‘Did you know?’

  ‘Of course I did. And I loved you too, for all the good you did to my morale. It was exciting to be admired, even from afar, by one of the most attractive young men in town.’

  ‘Are you referring to me?’

  ‘Certainly I am.’

  ‘Then I thank you,’ John answered, and kissed her with enthusiasm. Life being what it is, it was into this scene that Coralie Clive decided to walk.

  ‘I am extremely sorry to interrupt,’ she stated icily.

  The Comtesse turned a radiant smile on her. ‘My dear, you are not. John and I are friends of long standing. In fact, I would go so far as to say that had I not been married to Louis, I would seriously have considered him for a lover at one stage in my life. But now, come and join our fun. Today I am announcing to the beau monde that I am enceinte. Please share my happiness.’ And she held out her hand in such a welcoming gesture that Coralie could not resist and was swept into the mutual embrace.

  Very conscious of the actress’s body close to his, John broke away for the sake of decorum. ‘My dear Miss Clive, you called in to see me. How may I help you?’

  ‘Perhaps by explaining this.’ And she showed him the letter from Bow Street, requesting her to attend Mr Fielding as quickly as possible about a matter of some urgency which he wished to discuss with her.

  Making a lightning quick decision, John decided to plead ignorance. ‘I am terribly sorry, Miss Clive, I have no idea why the Beak should ask to see you. I am not privy to all his t
houghts. Perhaps he would like your help with something.’

  ‘But how could I possibly assist him?’

  ‘Oh come, come. There are so many ways in which a woman could be useful,’ put in Serafina, her eyes gleaming. ‘After all, you are an actress, my dear.’ She paused momentarily, then added, ‘I do wish I were closer to it all. How pleased I would be if Mr Fielding asked help of me.’

  ‘Why?’ asked Coralie, astonished.

  ‘Because I would like to be the one who sends a child slayer to Tyburn Tree, I mean it truly.’

  ‘Did you know,’ said John, ‘that the killer left one of your gloves at the scene of Will’s murder?’

  ‘Yes, Kitty told me. But for what reason? Is he trying to implicate me?’

  ‘I’m not sure,’ the Apothecary answered. ‘You see, when I showed that glove to Polly Rose she thought it belonged to Sarah Delaney. It seems to me that she is the one at whom the killer is trying to point the finger.’

  ‘But why?’

  ‘Because she is carrying Jasper Harcross’s child, I would imagine.’

  ‘It is all so horrible,’ said Coralie, with emotion. ‘I no longer feel safe in my bed at night.’

  ‘Then the sooner the murderer is captured the better,’ the Comtesse stated firmly. ‘If Mr Fielding calls for your assistance then give it my dear, I beg of you.’

  ‘I shall certainly think about it.’

  ‘May I hail you a chair, Miss Clive?’ John asked pointedly.

  ‘Thank you, I can manage,’ she answered primly.

  Overwhelmed by a desire to shake her really hard, the Apothecary for all that pressed a small bottle of perfume into her hand. ‘Please accept this as a gift. It is a new fragrance which I have created myself.’

  ‘And what is it called?’

  ‘It does not have a name as yet. Perhaps you can think of one for me.’

  ‘How about Eau de Bow Street?’ she replied instantly, and with that turned on her heel and was gone.

  ‘I would like to strangle that girl,’ said John forcefully.

  Serafina laughed. ‘It is only because you are strongly attracted to each other and neither of you knows how to respond – as yet.’