Edward Marston - The Fair Maid of Bohemia

‘Adrian was a fine actor,’ he said fondly. ‘You could not fault his voice, his movement or his gestures. Even in minor roles, he had a real presence. Had he stayed with us, Adrian might have looked to become a sharer one day.’

‘I will miss his companionship,’ said Owen Elias. ‘It is rare for a man to fall in so easily with his fellows. Adrian seemed to have been with Westfield’s Men for years.’

‘Would that he had!’ sighed Edmund Hoode. ‘It would have made my task as a playwright a trifle easier.’

‘How so?’ asked Firethorn.

‘When I pick up my quill, I have to tailor the parts to suit the talents of the company. It would not have been so with Adrian. He could play anything-a lovesick shepherd, a scheming cardinal, a noble duke, a miserable beggar, a young gallant, an old greybeard, an Italian prince or a Flemish pieman; they were all grist to his mill.’

‘I could play all those parts with equal skill,’ boasted Barnaby Gill. ‘And many more besides.’

‘True, Barnaby. But even you could not have portrayed the sturdy woodcutter in Double Deceit . Adrian made that role his own. You do not have the height or build for the part.’

‘I can act height. I can dissemble build.’

‘We are not talking about you,’ said Elias impatiently. ‘Adrian was the more complete actor and that is that.’

‘He was a mere hired man,’ said Gill with a sniff.

‘You are unjust to his memory,’ chided James Ingram. ‘Have you so soon forgot how he cheered us on the voyage by making us sing? He showed true leadership that day.’

‘Which is more than you have ever shown, Barnaby,’ added Firethorn. ‘The poor fellow is dead. Brutally slain. Does not that mean anything to you?’

‘Yes,’ retorted Gill. ‘It means that I will not sleep soundly in my bed as long as we are in this dreadful country. One of us has already been killed. Who is next? Supposing that the villain murdered me?’

‘I would happily join in the applause.’

‘That is a most callous remark, Lawrence.’

‘Callous but honest. Show some respect to Adrian.’

‘It was not my decision to bring him with us.’

‘No, you were trying to force Clement Islip upon us.’

‘Had Clement been here,’ said Gill defensively, ‘this would not have happened. He was more wary. Clement would never have turned his back to an armed assailant.’

‘He would be too busy turning his back to you ,’ growled Firethorn. ‘That is why you wanted to take that lisping milksop along with us. To face the same way as Clement in the bedchamber and satisfy your unnatural desires.’

‘That is obscene!’

Gill leaped to his feet in a state of uncontrollable agitation and jabbered wildly, waving his arms, stamping his feet and rolling his eyes as if trying to dislodge them from their sockets. Firethorn goaded him on, Elias chuckled, Hoode tried to intervene, Ingram reminded everyone that they were there to mourn a friend and the other members of the company looked on with a mixture of amusement and sadness.

The argument was still at its height when Nicholas walked in. He stared at them with unfeigned disgust. Even the hysterical Gill was silenced by the book-holder’s smouldering anger. Nicholas rarely lost his temper but he was clearly on the point of doing so now.

‘Will you bicker like silly children?’ he said. ‘Adrian Smallwood lies dead on a stone slab not a few hundred yards away and you wrangle here regardless. Was he murdered in vain? Must you dishonour his memory in this shameful way? Can you not even raise a passing sigh for the loss of a good friend?’

Westfield’s Men shifted uneasily in their seats.

‘You are right to censure us, Nick,’ said Firethorn at length. ‘I must take the lion’s share of the blame. It was I who provoked this quarrel.’ He turned to Gill and took a deep breath before speaking. ‘I owe you an apology, Barnaby.’

‘I feel that I owe Adrian Smallwood an apology,’ said the other pensively. ‘He deserves our profoundest sympathy. He was indeed a competent actor. But I would still have brought Clement Islip in his stead.’ He looked solemnly around the table. ‘Gentlemen, I bid you good night.’

‘Perhaps it is time for all of us to take to our beds,’ suggested Elias as Gill walked away. ‘We have drunk more than enough for one night. Let us grieve over Adrian in the morning with kinder hearts and clearer heads.’

The Welshman led the slow departure from the table. Only Firethorn remained. Seeing that Nicholas wished to talk to him alone, he motioned the latter to sit beside him.

‘Forgive our behaviour, Nick. We do care about Adrian.’

‘I know.’

‘Do they have any notion who the killer may be?’

‘None as yet.’

‘What action has been taken to track him down?’

‘Master Davey would not give me details.’

‘Stabbed to death in broad daylight! And only minutes after he had helped to give such pleasure on the stage. It beggars belief! Who could do such a thing to Adrian? And why?’

‘That is what I came to discuss.’

Nicholas looked around the room to make sure that nobody was within earshot. The place was fairly full but the other customers seemed to be locked into their own conversations. Taking no chances, Nicholas dropped his voice as a precaution.

‘Do you recall the pouch you gave me for safekeeping?’

‘Very well,’ said Firethorn.

‘That is what he was after.’

‘Who?’

‘The murderer. He first ransacked our chambers. When he could not find the pouch there, he followed Adrian into the stable and killed him.’

Firethorn was stunned. ‘How do you know?’

‘It is the only explanation that fits the facts.’

‘But Adrian did not have the pouch.’

‘The assassin thought that he did,’ argued Nicholas. ‘My guess is that he knocked Adrian senseless from behind, then tore off his jerkin to search it. Adrian was a strong young man. Even a savage blow like that would not keep him unconscious for long. He may have groaned for help, even tried to rise. The dagger was used to finish him off.’

‘I am quite confused here, Nick.’

‘The confusion was in the mind of the killer.’

‘Why should he imagine that Adrian had the pouch?’

‘He did not,’ said Nicholas. ‘He knew that it was in my possession. In some ways, Adrian and I might have been twins. In Mirth and Madness , he was wearing a buff jerkin much like this one of mine. The killer mistook him for me.’

‘You were the intended victim?’ gasped Firethorn.

‘I believe so. Why should anyone stab a harmless young actor to death? There was no motive. Had I been cut down in that stable, the motive would have been all too clear.’

‘Nick, dear heart!’ exclaimed Firethorn, embracing him impulsively. ‘We came that close to losing the very foundation of our company? Can this be true?’

‘Unhappily, it can. The Governor’s secretary confirmed it.’

‘Balthasar Davey?’

‘The idea had already crossed my mind but I chose to resist it at first. I had guilt enough over Adrian’s murder. To know that he died in place of me is a chilling thought. I am overcome with remorse.’

‘You mentioned the secretary.’

‘Yes,’ said Nicholas. ‘Master Davey has an acute brain. He reached the same conclusion. Adrian Smallwood was killed by a man in search of the pouch I carry.’

‘But the existence of that pouch is a secret,’ said Firethorn in alarm. ‘How does Master Davey know about it?’

‘He knows far more than we.’

‘It was entrusted to me and I gave it privily to you. Who told the willing secretary that it was in your charge?’