Edward Marston - The Laughing Hangman

‘Jonas Applegarth was a brilliant playwright.’

‘His brilliance has destroyed me!’

‘It cost him his own life, certainly,’ admitted Nicholas. ‘Had he not written The Misfortunes of Marriage , he would still be with us. It was too powerful a piece for its own good. Someone was deeply offended by it.’

‘Yes!’ howled Marwood. ‘God Almighty!’

‘Jonas was killed by a human hand. I can vouch for that.’

Another torrent of self-pity gushed from the landlord but it washed harmlessly over the book holder. He was diverted by the sight of the woman who had just come hurrying in through the archway of the yard. Detaching himself from Marwood, he ran to greet Anne Hendrik. There was a spontaneous embrace. She hugged him with relief.

‘I am so glad to see you safe, Nick!’

‘What brought you here?’

‘The grim tidings,’ she explained. ‘I met with Nathan Curtis as he was returning home to Bankside. He told me of the murder here this morning and I had to come. I feared for you.’

‘But I am in no danger, Anne.’

‘If you pursue a killer, you must be. He has two victims already. Do not become the third, I beg you. Nathan told me how determined you were to avenge this death. Why put yourself in such peril?’

Nicholas soothed her as best he could, then led her across to the tiring-house, unlocking it with his key to give them some privacy. As they stepped into the room, Nicholas felt a pang of remorse. Jonas Applegarth had been hanged in the adjoining chamber and his unquiet spirit hovered over the whole building.

‘Nathan was still trembling at what he saw.’

‘It was a grisly sight indeed. The mere thought of it has thrown the company into chaos. Jonas Applegarth was one of us.’

‘Why was he murdered?’

‘To silence his voice.’

‘I do not understand.’

‘He was a man of strong opinions, who used his art to express them and his wit to belabour his enemies. Jonas was killed for something that he wrote.’

‘But what of Cyril Fulbeck?’ she asked. ‘Did you not tell Nathan that he was killed by the same fell hand? The Master of the Chapel was a gentle man with quiet opinions. He made no enemies. Why was his voice silenced?’

‘I will find out in time,’ he said confidently. ‘But you are wrong about him. Meek as he was, Cyril Fulbeck did make enemies. You introduced me to one of them in this very inn.’

She gave a sigh. ‘Ambrose Robinson.’

‘He would cheerfully have practised his butchery on the Master of the Chapel.’

‘That is not so.’

‘Your friend has too much anger swilling inside him.’

‘He has a temper but is learning to govern it.’

‘The wonder is that he has not descended on Blackfriars in a fit of rage and seized his son by force. How have you prevented him from doing so?’

‘I urged him to proceed by legal means. That is why I brought him to you, Nick. I hoped that you could help.’

‘I have tried, Anne.’

‘What have you found?’

Nicholas hesitated. Delighted to see her and touched by her concern for him, he was anxious not to provoke another quarrel. He took her hand and led her to a bench against the wall. They sat down together.

‘We parted unhappily the last time we met,’ he said.

‘That was as much my fault as ours.’

‘I was unmannerly with you, Anne.’

‘You could never be that.’

‘Too bold in my enquiries, then.’

‘They carried the weight of accusation,’ she explained. ‘That was what distressed me. Your tone was possessive.’

‘I can only beg forgiveness.’

‘You harassed me, Nick. I am not bounden to you. In my own house, I am entitled to make my own decisions.’

‘I accept that.’

‘To choose my own friends without first seeking your approval. Is that so unreasonable a demand?’

‘No, Anne,’ he conceded. ‘I am justly rebuked.’

‘I deserve some censure myself for being so harsh.’

‘The fault is mended.’

‘You were only drawn into this business because of me. I should have borne that in mind. You did not choose this situation. I did, Nick, and I was wrong to foist another man’s domestic problem on to you.’

‘I embrace it willingly if it makes us friends again.’

She smiled and kissed him softly on the cheek.

‘This you must know,’ she said quietly, ‘and then we may put it aside so that it does not come between us again. Ambrose Robinson is a kind and generous man. Thefts and damage to my property left me in difficulty. Many offered sympathy but he alone offered me the money I needed at that time. It saved me, Nick. It let me rebuild. I cannot forget that.’

‘Nor should you.’

‘It brought us close. When his son was taken into the Chapel Royal, he was distraught. I could not deny him my help. That brought us even closer. And yes, you were informed correctly, I have been to church with Ambrose-but only to pray beside him on my knees and not for any deeper reason.’

Nicholas took both comfort and regret from her words.

‘Why did you not confide your troubles in me, Anne?’

‘You were not there.’

‘And he was.’

‘Yes.’

He lowered his head in dismay. The thought that she had been in dire financial straits was upsetting, all the more so because he was unaware of her predicament. It was a disturbing reminder of how far apart they had drifted. If the butcher had come to her aid, the man deserved gratitude. Nicholas felt slightly ashamed. He squeezed her hand in apology.

‘My debt has been fully repaid,’ she continued. ‘I owe Ambrose nothing now. What I do for him, I do out of simple friendship for I would see him reunited with his son.’

‘That may prove difficult.’

‘You have looked further into it?’

‘The deed of impressment has the might of the law behind it. Philip Robinson belongs to the Chapel Royal.’

‘Can he not be released by any means?’

‘It seems not.’

‘Have you spoken again to Raphael Parsons?’

‘He is not the stumbling block,’ said Nicholas. ‘Nor was he responsible for having the boy impressed. That was Cyril Fulbeck’s doing. He is now dead and the lad is answerable to the Assistant Master of the Chapel.’

‘But Master Parsons is the real tyrant here.’

‘Not so.’

‘He is the one who makes Philip’s life such an ordeal. He shouts at the boy, beats him and forces him to act upon the stage. He makes the whole company work from dawn till dusk without respite. It is cruel. Complain to him. Exert pressure there. Raphael Parsons is the problem.’

‘One problem, perhaps. But there is a bigger one.’

‘What is that?’

‘Philip Robinson himself.’

‘In what way?’

‘He enjoys being one of the Chapel Children.’

‘There is nothing he loathes more.’

‘I have seen the boy, Anne,’ Nick argued. ‘I watched him play in Alexander the Great this afternoon. He was a delight to behold. He acted well and sang beautifully, all with true zest. I tell you this. I would make Philip Robinson an apprentice with Westfield’s Men without a qualm. We will need a replacement for John Tallis now his voice has deepened into manhood. If he were not already ensconced at Blackfriars, the lad would be ideal.’

‘I find this hard to believe. Philip enjoys it?’

‘He has found his true profession.’

‘Then why are his letters so full of misery? Why does he rail at Raphael Parsons so? Why does Philip beg his father to come and rescue him from his imprisonment?’

‘He does none of these things, Anne.’

‘He does. I read his tales of woe and so did you.’

‘What we read were letters given to us by the father,’ said Nicholas. ‘We only have his word that they were written by his son. Ambrose Robinson has been a good neighbour to you and I respect him for that, but I beg leave to doubt his honesty. I believe that we have been misled.’